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Chapter 15

Half an hour later, Regan glanced up as Caleb entered the room. He’d obviously showered and changed into clean jeans and a black T-shirt. He sank down onto the chair opposite her. Regan whispered a word and a drink appeared beside him. He picked up the glass and stared at the amber liquid. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

“No.”

“Pity.” He took a sip of his drink. “What would you like to do for the rest of the day?”

She looked at him in amazement. “You can’t avoid the situation.”

He turned to her. “I’m not avoiding the situation, because there is no situation to avoid.”

“Your mother was killed last night.”

The look Caleb sent her was fierce. “She was not my mother. My mother died when I was born.”

“Sarah brought you up.”

“She was Ethan’s mate—she had no choice.”

“So, she didn’t love you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. It didn’t matter. When it came down to it she wouldn’t stand up for me.”

“Against Ethan?”

He nodded, and then sighed. “Ethan wanted a son. I don’t know exactly how he got hold of my mother, but he did, and she had me. Only thing was, Ethan wanted a werewolf son to follow him, and I never shifted. Of course no one knew what to expect of me; there had never been a werewolf child before, or at least not that anyone could remember.”

He took a sip of his drink. Regan bit her lip; she had a feeling she was going to learn something here that would explain Caleb, but he couldn’t be pushed. She held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

“Anyway, Ethan decided that I needed a little encouragement. He’d already tried biting me. I reacted badly, and he gave up on that idea. But it’s known that weres often change under pain and stress. So he decided to test the theory on me.”

Shock surged through her as she realized where he was going with this. “The scars on your back?”

He nodded. “I was always aware he was bitterly disappointed in me, and I thought it was a punishment for being a failure. I was five years old at the time.”

She blinked away a tear at the thought of the little boy, subjected to all that pain and suffering.

Caleb looked at her in surprise. “Don’t waste your tears on me. It’s in the past.”

“Of course it is, and it has absolutely no effect at all on the man you are today.”

He ignored the comment. “I came to hate the full moon. I came to hate the wolves, and I came to hate ‘my mother,’ who stood by and did nothing. All of them who stood by and did nothing. And now they expect me to go back and save them.”

“Not everyone is as strong as you, Caleb.”

“I know that now. Unfortunately, I didn’t know it when I was five.”

“So, did it work? Did it make you change?”

“No. Luckily, my father gave up after a few years. I changed when I was eleven and managed to keep it a secret from him for another year. Just out of spite. I wasn’t like the others. I could always control my wolf. I didn’t have to turn at full moon.”

“Will you help them?”

“I’m not going back to the pack, but they can stay here. They have my protection until they can get away, find somewhere safe.”

“And if your father comes after them?”

“He won’t.”