Page 22 of Wolf’s Providence (The Shadowridge Peak #3)

TWENTY-ONE

Willow

The next few days were unremarkable, which somehow made the tension worse. Caleb had told me to act like everything was normal, but it was hard to relax when I knew I was being watched. Each casual step I took through town felt unnatural and overexaggerated, like I was putting myself on display, walking through a minefield of unknown dangers.

I’d made my way to the gallery, pretending to be as unaware as I could. Stopping to chat with those I knew, just like I would if I didn’t have eyes on me from unknown sources. When I finally turned onto Main Street, nerves made me duck into the bakery so I could feel like I could breathe.

I ordered my usual coffee and added a cruller, which I usually avoided, but I needed the sugar rush this morning.

“You suck at acting natural,” a guy behind me said under his breath. “May as well paint a sign on you that says ‘I know you’re watching.’” I went to turn around, but he stopped me, his hand on my arm causing me to flinch. “Don’t turn, sweetheart. Don’t need the sign to be flashing neon.”

“Who are you?” My heart was racing. I desperately wanted to turn around and confront him.

“Caleb’s still keeping secrets,” he said with a grunt. “Typical.” He moved away. I knew he had as I no longer felt the heat from his body. “Do me a favor, sweetheart. Get your breakfast, keep your head down, cross the road, get into the gallery, get a brown paper bag, lock yourself in the bathroom, and breathe.”

“I’m not that bad,” I muttered, pretending to look at my nails.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “You’re worse.”

Asshole .

“Hey, Willow, haven’t seen you in a while.” The server started talking to me, and I moved away from my new friend .

With my coffee and breakfast in hand, I looked at the stranger as I left the store, meeting his knowing gaze, seeing the smirk as our eyes met. He dipped his head slightly before I turned away and crossed the road. Balancing my breakfast, I opened the art gallery. After the encounter with Caleb’s…“friend,” I hated the fact I’d given Lorna the morning off. I wanted someone I knew beside me. But then that meant I was putting Lorna in danger, and I wouldn’t do that.

Instead, I hastily drew his profile so I could show it to Caleb later. Then I spent my morning finishing inventory and fielding some calls from past customers who had bought one of my pieces and now had someone reaching out to them, making inquiries to buy them for more than they were worth.

I knew it was Cannon and his pack, but still, in another world, in another lifetime, it would be kind of nice to have a conversation with customers who believed your work was worth more than they paid.

Lorna came in around one. The bag with her held mouthwatering aromas, and I helped her unpack and then ate a hot lunch while she asked me a thousand questions about my relationship with Caleb.

Noel had inadvertently been the alibi Caleb had pounced on to leave town. Noel was short a pair of hands for laboring a big job a couple of hours away. Both Lorna and I were alone while our “men-folk” worked out of town.

I wasn’t sure how Caleb was explaining not turning up to Noel. He couldn’t be close to me and two hours away at the same time. It just added to my anxiety.

After lunch, I found myself relaxing in Lorna’s familiar chatter.

“Noel says Caleb doesn’t talk a lot,” she said with a sidelong glance at me. “Does he say much to you?”

“Who, Caleb?” I asked her, looking up from my sketchbook. “Yeah, we speak.”

“He seems so…stoic.”

Putting my pencil down, I gave her my full attention. “He talks when it matters,” I told her, fighting the blush in my cheeks as I suddenly remembered exactly how vocal my man could be when he was ordering me around in the bedroom.

Lorna gave me a knowing look. “Uh-huh, just make sure he keeps talking when the honeymoon period is over.” She tsked softly. “Young love’s all well and good, but if there’s no conversation, then what’s left when the honeymoon is over?”

“Um…” My mind had snagged on the word honeymoon , and I was completely unstuck.

There would be no honeymoon for Caleb and me. He was a shifter, I was not. I didn’t think there was a happily ever after in our future.

Lorna changed the topic when she saw how subdued I was. We said our goodbyes around four, and I refused her offer of a lift. I needed to be seen and lure out my would-be-attackers, so I opted to walk. Like I usually would.

As I walked home, the world felt strange, the hairs on my arms prickling as I walked. It was the tail end of November, Thanksgiving was three days away, and I was bound to be feeling the chill since the snow had started falling.

Only I wasn’t cold. In fact, the cool air was pleasant. My steps slowed as I considered the changes in my body since coming off of Blackridge Peak.

My appetite had increased. I wanted more meat in my diet. I felt so much stronger in my body.

I’d only had one ME flare-up since I came out of the bunker, and it was so mild it was barely noticeable.

Fishing in my pocket, I brought out my phone and immediately called Doc. I then hung up as quickly. I couldn’t have this conversation in the street. I didn’t know who was listening. And then I didn’t know if I was supposed to have this conversation in the street because I wasn’t supposed to know people were listening.

God, my head hurt.

I was so caught up in my head that I didn’t even realize it was happening until it happened.

The figure moved in my peripheral vision, hovering just long enough for me to register the threat and then recognize the threat. He was closer than I’d expected, and his face was partially hooded, but I would have recognized him anyway.

The man from the bus station.

He walked rapidly towards me with a single-minded intensity that froze me in place. I stumbled slightly in my haste to walk backwards. I knew I needed to move away . Recovering myself, I forced myself to turn around, every nerve on high alert as I started to run.

I heard him chasing me, and fear made me run faster. Suddenly, a hand as strong as steel grabbed my shoulder, hauling me backwards as I let out a hoarse scream for help.

A hand was slapped over my mouth as I was lifted off my feet. I got ready to struggle when out of nowhere, the guy was knocked away from me. I fell to the ground, my hands scraping against the sidewalk. When I looked up, the guy from the station was wrestling with the guy from the bakery, and I felt some relief as I watched him wrestle the other shifter.

Then Caleb was there. He crossed the distance between us so fast it was almost unnatural, his shoulders rigid, his eyes as hard as steel. The guy from the station clambered to his feet, took one look at Caleb, his face pale beneath the shadow of his hood, and then he bolted.

The guy who’d tackled him was already on his feet, giving chase. Caleb’s arm was around me, pulling me to my feet, crushing me to him. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, and though it was probably meant to sound reassuring, it came out as a growl.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, my knees shaking. “I’m okay.” I saw the wildness in his eyes. “Go, find out who he is.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he bit out. His face was dark with fury. I hadn’t seen that look of anger on his face since the night on Shadowridge Peak. His fists were twitching, his wolf riding close to the surface, and I saw his eyes change color as he struggled to hold on to his control, as if he were fighting the chance to tear into someone.

I knew what those fists felt like when he lost control. Without thought, I backed away.

Caleb saw my move, saw where my gaze was fixed, and I saw the devastation in his eyes as he realized what had happened. He looked away, masking the pain at seeing my reaction.

I moved towards him, but he held up his hand. “Don’t, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Caleb…”

His jaw clenched. “It’s not over. I need to know who he is and what he’s doing. Come, I’ll take you home.” He walked briskly the short distance to my home, never speaking.

And I didn’t know what to say.

At my front door, he backed away. “Lock the doors, open for no one. Not even me.”

He was gone before I could say a word.

Inside, I paced the floor of my living room as I bit my thumbnail, waiting for word from Caleb that he was okay. My cell rested on my coffee table, but it never rang.

Eventually, I made a cup of tea, but it lay untouched as time moved on, and when I did lift the cup to my mouth, it was stone cold.

As the night got darker, I did my best to stay away from the windows. Eventually, I called Doc. I needed a distraction. My improved health would serve that purpose.

He answered on the third ring. “Willow? What’s wrong?”

“Hi, Doc, nothing’s wrong.” Lie lie lie . “I was wondering if I could ask a few questions?”

“I love questions,” he told me, and I heard the warmth in his voice. It was so natural and familiar that I fought back tears. “Shoot.”

“I’ve not been sick,” I told him bluntly, forcing my voice to be strong as if nothing was wrong. As if the man I cared so much for hadn’t just been devastated by my foolish reaction. “Since coming home,” I clarified. “I’ve had one flare up. Nothing to really note.” I drew in a shaky breath. “What’s happening? Am I still human?”

I gave him time to consider it, the silence almost welcome. “You’re still human,” he finally spoke. “As to what’s happening? I need to know more. Can I ask questions?”

“Of course.”

“Some may be more personal than we normally share, Willow,” he said, his voice lower, clearly uncomfortable, which struck me as odd.

“Shoot,” I copied his earlier answer.

“Where’s Caleb?” he asked. It sounded almost like an afterthought.

“He’s…out.” That wasn’t a lie. Just not a true reflection of my current reality.

“You two okay?” he asked carefully.

“Couldn’t be better,” I lied again. “So, your questions?”

Talking to Doc distracted me, but my eyes stayed glued to the door, waiting for Caleb to come home.

We talked about my diet, and he wasn’t in approval of some of my food choices, noting more meat in my diet than previously. He didn’t ask why I was sleeping so soundly. I guess he didn’t need a doctor’s degree to know how biology worked.

“Are you using protection?” Doc suddenly asked.

“Condoms?” I squeaked when I finally found my voice.

“Yes.”

My face was burning. “Um. No.”

“Uh-huh, and are you on birth control?”

He wasn’t kidding when he said he was asking uncomfortable questions. “Um, yes.”

“Pill?”

“Mm-hmm.” This was beyond awkward.

“Yeah, that won’t work. Caleb’s a shifter,” Doc told me, his voice clipped. Professional. “Shifter sperm is tenacious; basic birth control won’t do squat against Caleb’s little guys, or gals, I should say in this day and age.”

“I could be pregnant?” I felt faint.

“Do you feel nauseous in the morning? At night? Do your breasts feel tender? Are you having weird cravings?” He hesitated. “Like meat?”

“I could be pregnant?”

“Willow? Are you going to pass out?” he asked quickly. “If you are, please make sure you’re not in a place where you can hurt yourself if you fall. Actually, sit down and put your head between your legs.”

I didn’t move. My mind was racing, furiously working out period math. “I can’t be pregnant,” I suddenly blurted. “It’s been too soon since my period.”

“Shifter pregnancies are quicker, even in humans,” Doc said calmly. “Let’s discuss your cycle.”

He asked me a few more questions, and as he did, my panic lessened. He hadn’t outright said it, but I think he was coming around to the idea I wasn’t pregnant too.

The panic never fully receded within me though, and as he made me feel like a teenager while he gave me the “safe sex” talk, I listened intently. Caleb was wearing a condom from now on. When I said as much to Doc, he told me they wouldn’t be as effective as they were with a human male. Neither would withdrawing before ejaculation—his words, not mine—because shifter sperm was indeed tenacious, and some wanted out before the big finale so they could catch my eggs unawares and knock me up.

It seemed the Goddess Luna was all about fertility.

If they told me at this point it was in their holy texts that she wanted women chained to the kitchen sink, barefoot and pregnant, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

“You still with me, Willow?” Doc asked gently.

“I may have passed out,” I muttered and heard his chuckle. “I only phoned about my ME…”

“Well, I would have had this talk with you at some point,” he conceded, “but you left so quickly I never got the chance. I think you need to accept having Caleb’s child is inevitable if you keep having sex with him.”

There wasn’t much to say to that, so after a few more minutes of chitchat, I said goodbye and then hung up.

I spent the next hour rubbing my belly, repeatedly telling my womb to be unaccommodating to all sperm, and watching the door for signs of Caleb coming back.

I woke up when I was lifted off the couch and carried to the bedroom. Opening my eyes, I saw Caleb’s handsome face, noting a few bruises on his cheeks, but otherwise, he seemed unharmed.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s late,” he told me, placing me with such care on the bed that I almost cried again.

“Did the trap work?”

“It did.” His voice was grim, his eyes tight with fury.

“Then it’s over?”

“No, it’s not over. This is just the beginning.” His voice held a hard edge, something dangerous, and I wasn’t sure when he looked at me if he wanted to push me away or pull me closer.

“Your information gathering worked though, right?” I was almost scared to ask the next question. “Which is a good thing…right?”

Caleb looked down at me, his face half-hidden in the shadows of my dimly lit bedroom, his expression one I couldn’t quite read. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said, his voice low, barely controlled. “Not even me.”

The intensity of his words and self-loathing made my stomach flip. “I know, Caleb. I trust you, you would never hurt me.”

“You mean again?” His voice was heavy with scorn. “We all know I already hurt you, Willow…” He inhaled deeply, and I heard how shaky his control was. “We all know I could do it again.”

“No, we don’t.” Sitting up, I grabbed his arm. “I know you won’t. You didn’t hurt me the first time, it was the darkness that lives on that peak of yours. It wasn’t you . It would never be you.”

For a moment, I thought he’d argue, but he finally looked away, his shoulders deflating. “I wish that one day I have as much confidence in me as you do,” he murmured, moving to the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked, fear of losing him clutching at my throat.

“I know who it is that’s targeting you. I know what they want.”

“Who are they?” I was rooted to the bed. “What do they want?”

“Rogues.” He saw my confusion. “Shifters who have left their pack. They roam together, killing, destroying, raiding.” His lip curled in a sneer. “Pathetic.”

“Oh.” That sounded like something that could be handled, didn’t it? “What do they want?” I asked again.

Caleb’s eyes blazed with fury. “They want my land.”

His land?

My stomach dropped like a lead balloon as I understood. “You mean Shadowridge Peak?”

“I mean Shadowridge Peak,” he repeated, his voice dangerously low.

“They can’t take it though, right?” I desperately tried to remember what they told me about Caleb and his packlands. “You have to give it to them?”

“Or I can be challenged for it,” he told me. “Then I would need to fight for it.”

I didn’t need to ask if he would fight for it; the look in his eyes said it all.

The question wasn’t whether he would fight for Shadowridge Peak, the question was what lengths he would go to, to keep it.