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“Thank you,” she said. “Not for the sex,” she added quickly. “For being with me, showing me how it should be.”

A slight smile flickered across his face, as though he could tell exactly how hard that had been for her. Then the smile was wiped away, and a grim determination took its place.

“You’ll be okay next time,” he replied. “Just remember a couple of rules—away from people but out in the open, and you’ll do okay. You already have strong control, stronger than I’ve ever seen in a new wolf. You won’t need me again.”

Regan sat up, hugged her knees to her chest, and studied him. She realized with a start of surprise that he was warning her off. Telling her this was a one-off and not to expect anything more from him. Wasn’t that supposed to be her line? She was always the one to set the boundaries.

“You sound like you’re not planning on being around next time.”

He pulled himself up so he sat facing her, the top of his head almost grazing the rock roof above them. His face took on a closed, shuttered look. “I’m not.”

Regan knew she should leave it alone. He obviously wanted nothing to do with her, and she was fine with that.

Or maybe she wasn’t.

“Why?” she asked.

She thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he shrugged. “This isn’t my world.”

“This?”

He gestured toward her. “I don’t know what you are, exactly, but I’m pretty sure you’re not human.”

“I’m a witch.”

A flare of surprise showed briefly on his face, and his gaze wandered over her. “That figures, but it really doesn’t matter. I decided a long time ago that I didn’t want any part of your world.”

Regan frowned. She was missing something here. “How can you say that—you’re a werewolf.”

Something dark flashed in his eyes. “I amnota werewolf.”

“But I saw you change.”

“Werewolves are humans that get bitten. I wasn’t bitten.”

She looked at him carefully, sensed he was telling the truth. How fascinating. “Have you ever been human?” she asked.

His eyes narrowed. “I’m as much human as anything else.”

“Who are you, Caleb?”

“You really want to know?”

She nodded.

“Ethan Stone is my father.”

Her mouth fell open. Shock filled her mind, quickly replaced by fury as her brain tried to make sense of what he was telling her.

“Ethan Stone? As in Ethan Stone, the goddamn, stinking werewolf that bit me?”

He nodded.

How could Ethan be his father? She clearly remembered Catrin telling her werewolves couldn’t have children; that werewolves were made, not born. Then again, Caleb had told her he was not a werewolf. But she’d seen him change.

Regan scrambled to her feet and backed away, needing to put some distance between them. She was naked, it hadn’t mattered before, but now it felt wrong, and she muttered the words of a spell. Caleb’s eyes widened as her clothes appeared, but she ignored the look. She’d told him she was a witch. Didn’t he know what witches did?

If he was Ethan’s son, what did that mean? Had it all been a setup? Caleb finding her in the woods. “Rescuing her.” Coming to her aid last night.