Page 10 of Wolf’s Providence (The Shadowridge Peak #3)

NINE

Caleb

The question hung in the air between us, sharp and heavy, like the weight of all the unspoken things between us. My throat tightened, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to answer her. The kiss we’d just shared still lingered, I could still taste her, and I still wanted to reach out and kiss her again. My body craved her, and I was having a hard time adjusting from the need to claim her to her desire to talk, like she just hadn’t been wrapped around me, dripping wet for me.

She sat on the bed, pushing herself back, her legs folded under her, and I tried not to notice her slim legs or the stretch of the material as it clung to her curves. When I looked up at her, her eyes were on mine, unwavering. She was strong, stronger than perhaps I gave her credit for. But she was also vulnerable in a way that made me want to protect her from everything.

Especially from me.

“Caleb, are you listening?” Her voice was soft, but there was a touch of steel underneath. “How did you know your blood would save me?”

I didn’t. That was the truth. I hadn’t known anything in that moment; all I’d had was the desperate fear of losing her and an old cautionary tale from a grandmother who walked too close to the wild side for my mother’s comfort. A spell so old and forbidden that only the old ones knew of it.

“I didn’t know,” I told her quietly. It wasn’t even a lie. I had been clutching at anything to keep her with me. I hadn’t even known I remembered the words of the incantation. I wouldn’t bet my life on remembering them now. “I acted recklessly.” Also true.

Willow blinked, her surprise flickering across her face. I could tell she hadn’t expected that answer. Hell, I was no longer sure what she did expect. But she deserved the truth, as much as I could share, and no one ever claimed the truth wasn’t ugly.

“You didn’t know.” Her voice trembled slightly, though she was doing her best to keep it steady. “You didn’t know it worked?” Her eyes took on a harder edge. “When you left, you didn’t know I was still alive?”

I ran a hand over my face, the familiar burn of guilt settling in my chest. How did I explain it to her? How did I tell her that I was lost to the darkness and no longer in control? That the beast within me had been on the verge of taking over?

But…she wasn’t asking me about that. She was asking why I had given her blood, why I had made a decision that was contrary to everything she knew and had been told about shifters.

“I had no choice,” I told her honestly. My voice sounded rough and I hoped she didn’t hear the self-loathing that haunted me since that night. “You were dying, Willow. I couldn’t let you die and do…nothing.” I looked up, my eyes locking onto hers, hoping she understood. “I wasn’t thinking straight, I just knew…”

“Knew what?” The steel was in her voice now, and I deserved it.

“I knew I couldn’t lose you.”

She flinched, looking away from me, but not before I saw the confusion in her eyes. The uncertainty.

I felt the flicker of something deeper, the unspoken connection between us that had always been there. Not the bond, or the link, or whatever the fuck we were calling it today. The more basic connection, the attraction.

“Did you know your blood wouldn’t change me?” she asked me suddenly. “That I would still be human?”

“Of course.” This part, I fully understood. You couldn’t turn someone; that was a Hollywood storyline, not reality. What you could do was tie their life to yours. I’d be damned if I told her that, though. “You have to remember,” I told her, stepping closer, “it wasn’t just my blood, Willow. The connection between us is the Will of Luna, and there was more than my blood at play that night.”

Willow was watching me, studying me, probably trying to sniff out any of my usual bullshit. I watched her back, calmly, watching the frown line deepen as her confusion grew.

“You believe your Goddess stepped in and that I’m here as some form of divine intervention?”

Divine intervention, and some really dark blood magic.

Despite that, I nodded. “I do.”

Willow sniffed. “The shaman believes your Goddess is behind all this.” She looked down at her pants legs, smoothing them over her thighs, distracting me slightly. “He says that the blood and the bond are what healed me. He says because I’m human, it’s why Luna chose me. He says I ground you when a pack cannot.”

I knew I was frowning. “The shaman says a lot,” I mused. “So, he told you that my blood healed you because of the bond, and it’s what the Goddess wants?”

I watched her nod, her movement hesitant, as if she was picking up on the fact I may not be a believer. “You’re an alpha,” she whispered. “Your bloodline is important. The Goddess doesn’t want to lose that.”

And how in the hell did tethering me to Willow preserve my bloodline? Seriously, was anyone buying this shit? I saw her eyes widen, doubt swirling in her green eyes as she tried to tell me that there was some greater reason behind all this than the actual truth.

“Is it not true?”

How did I answer that? Truthfully? Fuck no. “I don’t know.” Which was true, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that it was bullshit. I also wasn’t one hundred percent sure it wasn’t. “I know that you’re alive”—I gestured to her midriff—“and healed. And that’s all that matters.”

“That’s all that matters?” she asked skeptically.

I held in my sigh. I wanted to tell her I’d been asking myself the same thing. I wanted to tell her none of it made sense. That we were even connected to begin with still made no sense to me. I wanted to tell her that the pull I felt towards her, the need to protect her, to be with her, was stronger than anything I had ever felt in my life.

And that feeling terrified me.

“You being alive, unharmed, is all that matters,” I told her instead. “I won’t ask for forgiveness—I don’t deserve it—but I want you to know that I am so thankful that you are.”

“Thankful.” Her gaze hardened. I saw the way her shoulders straightened, the way her eyes narrowed. “You’re thankful .”

Fuck. What had I said wrong this time? “You think I’m not grateful?”

Anger flashed in her eyes, and I had no clue how I had made this worse. “Thankful. Grateful. Any other adjective you want to throw at me?”

I knew my face showed my surprise at her outburst. “What have I said to piss you off?” I asked her cautiously. “I never meant to hurt you. The fact I almost killed you, the fact you’re still here, yes, I’m eternally grateful.” Shoving my hands into my pockets, I watched her. “You should have never been involved in this, and the fact that you can walk away is all that matters.”

“Walk away?” Well, that went down like a red flag to a bull. She was on her feet. “You think with this connection between us, I can walk away ?”

So that was what was wrong? She didn’t want to be tethered to me? That I understood. “I know it’s going to be difficult to start with, but hopefully, with time, we may not even notice it anymore.”

I’d never seen Willow so close to losing her shit completely, but I was pretty sure she was about to explode.

“What does it feel like for you?” she asked me suddenly. “The bond. Describe it.”

I shook my head helplessly as I thought about it. “I dunno, a…a pull.”

“A pull?” Her arms folded across her chest, and her foot began to tap against the floor. “That’s it? What kind of pull? A strong pull? Weak? Warm? Comforting? Irritating?” The last was asked with a look that didn’t need further explanation.

I shrugged. “Just a pull.”

Willow screeched and I ducked to miss the sketchbook as she hurled it across the room at me. Wildly she looked around, and I knew she was looking for something else to throw. In two strides, I had her arms pinned to her sides, trying to avoid the thrashing of her head from side to side.

“Will you calm down?” I asked through clenched teeth as the little vixen kicked me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

With an almighty shove, Willow broke free, putting distance between us. She faced me, her chest rising rapidly as she panted, her glare fixed on me. “A pull?” Her voice pulsed with anger. “I go through all this , and you feel nothing but a pull ?”

She actually let out a growl, and when she saw me start to smile, I hastily wiped my face clear of emotion.

“Is this the part where you tell me what it feels like for you?”

Willow shook her head, turning her back to me and wrapping her arms around herself. “Why? You obviously don’t feel the same.” The amount of bitterness in her voice made me frown.

Slowly, I approached her. Her back stiffened as she heard me approach, but she didn’t turn around or stop me. Tentatively, I reached out, my hands landing lightly on her shoulders, feeling her tense beneath me. My grip tightened and relaxed as I rubbed her shoulders.

“The pull I feel, it’s constant,” I admitted softly. “It tugs at me every second.” I moved her hair aside, my nose trailing over her neck, inhaling the fresh scent of her. “It used to be…fragile,” I explained as I searched for the right words. “Now, it’s stronger than rope. Thicker, too. It feels unbreakable.” My lips tasted her skin. “It’s within me, buried deep, right here.” My hand slipped between her arm and her side, trailing over the material of her top, loving the sound of her quickened breathing, coming around to her front, and resting lightly on her chest, between her breasts. “Right here,” I said, pressing lightly.

I heard her shaky inhale and stepped closer to her, pressing her firmly against me. “It sits there, every moment of the day, reminding me that you’re here.” My head dipped, my forehead resting on her shoulder as I covered her back with my body. “Telling me you’re mine .”

“Caleb…”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I know what I did to you.” No, that wasn’t right. “What I’ve done to you. I will spend the rest of my life fighting for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it, I know that, but I will earn your trust again, Willow. I swear it.”

I felt a tear drip onto my hand, and I fought the urge to spin her around in my arms and kiss her tears away. Instead, I loosened my hold and stepped back. “That’s what it feels like,” I mumbled as I moved away. “That’s the pull I feel.”

Willow turned, her eyes soft and wet with more tears. She sniffled, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. “You could have led with that,” she protested weakly.

My smile broke free, and I saw the answering flush of her cheeks. “I’m not good with words,” I mumbled, feeling self-conscious. Open. Exposed.

Willow blew her nose, her eyebrow quirking at my confession. “If you say words like that,” she told me with a light chuckle, “you’ll have anyone eating out of the palm of your hand.”

It was meant as a joke, but it made me frown. “I meant them.”

Her smile faded as she noticed the change in my demeanor. “I know,” she told me gently. “I know.”

We stood like that for a moment, the pull tugging at my insides insistently, as if it wanted me to close the short gap between us.

“It’s why you’re here?” she asked. Stooping, she picked up her thrown sketchbook.

“A bit,” I admitted. “And I needed to see you with my own eyes. See you standing on two feet.”

“I’m okay,” she assured me. “Thanks to you.”

“Not just me,” I reminded her.

Willow rolled her eyes, but I knew she was more than aware that there was something more happening here.

“You okay?” I asked her.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I don’t know how to live with…this. This connection. Doesn’t it feel like it’s too much to you?”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. Was she rejecting the bond? Panic flared within me at the thought of what would happen if she succeeded. “I know it’s a lot.” I kept my voice calm and measured. “But I’m here, you’re not alone. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes searched mine, and for a second, I saw the flicker of vulnerability. She was scared. Scared of what this bond meant and scared of how it could change her life.

And if I was honest, I knew she was scared of me. Of what I was capable of.

“I will never hurt you again,” I told her, moving until I was standing right in front of her, looking down at her. “I can’t promise you much in this life, Willow, but I promise you that. Never again.”

Her breathing was shaky, but she never pulled away. The tension thickened between us, less about fear and more about everything else that remained unspoken between us.

“I never blamed you,” she told me softly, her gaze dropped to the floor. “But…”

“But you don’t trust me,” I finished her sentence. Reaching out, my finger slipped under her chin, tilting her head back so she had to look at me. “I will earn that back. I’ll fight for it, for you, every damn day.”

I saw the battle that played out inside her, felt her struggle through the bond that tied us, as she struggled between her heart and her head. I knew she wanted to believe me. I could see it in the way she looked at me, in the way she never pulled away from my touch. But I could also see the hurt, and I knew she needed to work through it all.

Letting my hand drop from her chin, I stepped back so I wasn’t crowding her, giving her her space. Knowing that she needed it. This wasn’t going to be easy. I knew that, but I meant what I said. I wasn’t going to lose her. I’d come so close to losing her that I would never let that happen.

“You need time,” I told her, “and I know that. When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”

“You’re leaving?” I felt the spike of worry through the bond, and it almost made me smile.

“I’ll be here,” I assured her. “We have a lot to figure out, and I also need to know who was chasing you. Hunting you. There’s still so much we don’t know.”

“I need to go home,” Willow whispered, almost apologetically. “I have the art studio, my home, my friends.”

“Then you’ll go back to Whispering Pines.” It wasn’t ideal, but some time and distance between me and pack couldn’t be bad.

I saw her swallow. “And…where will you be?”

“With you.”

I could almost feel the relief she tried to hide. She wasn’t ready to let me in completely, not yet, but she wasn’t willing to let me go either.

And that was enough. For now.