Page 28 of Wolf’s Providence (The Shadowridge Peak #3)

TWENTY-SEVEN

Caleb

The wind howled around me as I climbed the ridge, each gust cutting through the trees like a warning. I pushed forward, my breaths coming heavy as the cold air bit at my skin, the snow crunching underfoot.

The peak loomed above, a reminder of everything I’d fought for and everything I was terrified of losing. My fists clenched at my sides, the tension in my muscles a reflection of the turmoil in my mind.

Eamon should have never let Willow come after me.

The moment I’d seen her through the trees, my heart had stopped.

The fact that she was so ready to confront danger with that defiant look in her eyes, a part of me had surged with pride. But that pride had been extinguished as quickly as it came, crushed by the reality of what she had just walked into. She was brave, no doubt about it, but I couldn’t shake the image of her bleeding to death in my arms.

The thought of her caught in the crossfire of that confrontation, or here on Shadowridge again with me, where she’d been hurt before, was more than I could bear.

Images from the fight replayed in my head like a bad dream. I’d seen the shifter’s eyes light up at the sight of her, knowing he was going to use her as leverage. I felt sick thinking about what could have happened if I hadn’t managed to reach her.

The burden of responsibility weighed heavily on my shoulders, and it felt like it was crushing me.

I reached the top edge of the peak, the point where man or wolf couldn’t climb higher. Not without ropes and tools. I’d never had the urge to get the equipment. The fact my wolf could climb this high was enough of an achievement for me. I was standing at the precipice with the world spread out before me. Dawn was breaking and the sight before me was breathtaking. The trees below were dusted with snow, the mountains in the distance wrapped in mist.

But the image in my mind was of light green eyes filled with ire, soft blonde hair that felt like silk as it ran through my fingers, and skin as soft as the finest cotton—that was where I saw beauty. Her frown when she looked at me earlier was a stark reminder of my failures.

I heard the murmuring of many voices around me, reminding me of my failures. My pack was gone because I was too weak to be here to protect them. Willow’s blood on my claws as I tore into her flesh, mistaking her for the enemy from my past. Listening to the harsh whispers in my ear as they reminded me of how many I had let down.

Why are you fighting?

There’s nothing left for you here.

Let go. Let go of the anger.

Only in death will you find peace.

Aren’t you tired, Caleb? Tired of fighting?

I was tired. So tired of living with this guilt. Looking down at the mountain from this high up, everything below me seemed so…small. So, pointless.

I stepped closer to the edge, the drop below beckoning. For a moment, I wondered what it would be like to listen to them, let go, and surrender to the darkness.

For all the pain and doubt to melt away and never bother me again.

Remembering the moments of peace I’d felt these last weeks as I lay in bed, Willow asleep curled up beside me, her faith and trust in me absolute.

Willow .

“Really?” I muttered under my breath, “After all this, you’d kill her too.” I shook my head as if to physically dispel the thoughts. “You really are a pathetic coward.”

But the demons that shadowed me weren’t easily dismissed with a shake of my head.

They clawed at my insides, whispering the same lies I’d fought against for years: that I wasn’t strong enough, that I would always let the ones I cared about down, that I didn’t deserve love.

With every beat of my heart, the memories flooded back—of running alone through the trees, knowing my pack was dead. Reaching the first cabins, I saw the dead of my pack, fallen in their homes, their bodies of no concern to the ones who took their life.

I remembered losing control. I remembered the cold, hard rage that filled me as I went from cabin to cabin, looking into the faces of my pack in death. Climbing the stairs of my parents’ home, I could feel the weight of it all, as the scars of my past pressed down on me. I saw the blood spilled. I saw the mattress still saturated with their blood, even three days later.

I’d skirted the edges of the clearing, seeing the many bonfires as the Cristone Pack celebrated their victory over a pack that was never given the chance to fight back. The doors to the communal hall were open, and I could hear them cheering their victories. I had seen the pile of bodies, human and wolf forms strewn carelessly in a heap, discarded with no respect. I had seen the hand lying at the bottom of the pile. A ring on a finger I would have recognized anywhere.

They put my parents at the bottom of the pile.

Like they were garbage.

I’d taken the ring, so careful not to touch my mother’s hand, knowing that it would have broken me too soon. I’d felt the anger of the fallen rise up and surround me that day, and I had carried their thirst for vengeance into the hall where the killers celebrated their murderous victory. I’d used my Will and told them all to hold . There was no need to rush, I had taken my time, there was no one coming to save them, and I knew none of them would break my Will.

Because I was an alpha, and they were no match for me.

Each shifter had felt the cut of the blade as I drew it slowly along their throat. Each one’s body had convulsed as I forced them to stay on their feet, and each one of them had died gasping for breath in a body whose lungs would never fill with air again.

I’d watched each one die before I turned to the next. It took hours.

I left their pack leader to the end, ensuring he had seen how I brought his pack down. Then I made him watch as I killed his wife. His son. His daughter. He died in the same way. He’d wanted his bloodline on this mountain, and I gave him what he wanted. His blood would never leave this mountain because I left none of them alive. The blood of him and his children soaked the floor of the hall, seeping into the dirt to the concrete foundation of the hall, but no further. Cristone blood would not pass that foundation and seep into the heart of the mountain; it would not tarnish this land.

My land .

And when the final breath had left his body, when the blood had dried on his dead skin, only then had I turned to Jonah. His death took longer. It wasn’t only his throat I slit that day or the days that followed. First, I had let him scream.

I had let him scream and beg and plead. I had let him do it all, knowing no one was coming for him. No one was left alive to hear him.

He had cried for his Goddess. She hadn’t answered him.

The memories stirred the shadows more, making the whispers in my ear sound more like voices I once knew.

Closing my eyes, fighting the feeling of fatigue, I saw the image of another whose blood had spilled on this mountain. Willow bleeding out in my arms was an image I knew I would never forget. The pain and panic at the thought of losing her was still fresh. I had called to my Goddess for mercy, much like Jonah had done, and like Jonah, there was no answer to my call. In desperation, I’d called for the Goddess again, through an old magic.

Forbidden magic.

Blood magic.

Magic that tied the life of one to another. Willow was already bound to me by the Will of the Goddess. Now, she was bound to me by the rite of blood.

An unbreakable bond.

An unforgivable act.

Hearing that shifter hint at knowing what I had done, I knew I would have to tell Willow. And I knew that in doing so, she would never trust me again.

I didn’t blame her. I no longer trusted myself when it came to her. I would go to any lengths to protect her. To keep her safe.

It terrified me. I knew more than anyone what I was capable of. I was afraid that I’d slip back into that darkness that sought to claim me, and in doing so, I’d lose myself again, and there was no one left to pull me back.

The sharp gust of wind pulled me out of my thoughts. Turning from the ridge, I froze mid-step, my eyes wide with disbelief.

As if she were real, I saw my mother in front of me. Her eyes were filled with love and laughter. I shifted to my human form so sure I could reach out and touch her. Dark hair spilled over her shoulders. She wore a simple T-shirt and cotton shorts. Her feet were always bare. She loved to feel Shadowridge Peak beneath her toes.

Reaching forward, I felt nothing but empty air.

I couldn’t breathe.

Had I jumped? Was this my welcome to the eternal hunt?

My eyes searched her face, memorizing every detail, seeing the laughter and love twist to sadness as she watched me. Why was she sad? She lifted her arm, her hand reaching for my face, and I would have given anything for one more feel of her hand against my cheek.

You have to let go .

Emotion choked me, my throat was too tight, and I couldn’t breathe. Pain crashed through me, crushing me, surrounding me.

I couldn’t breathe.

Panic gripped me.

My mother was saying what the shadows whispered to me.

I thought it was my demons, the darkness inside me wanting to be free. But…what if I was wrong?

Gasping for air, I closed my eyes, willing myself to calm down and when I opened them, my mother was gone.

Gulping huge gasps of air, I looked around wildly for her, shifting back into wolf form, I sniffed the air for her scent.

She was just here . I could find her. My paws skimmed across the surface of the peak as I ran recklessly along the ridge, not caring where my paws landed, intent only on finding my mother.

I lost my footing; the fall came too fast for my claws to dig in and halt my momentum as I tumbled down the rock face. Wildly, I jumped, twisting in the air, hoping for better footing upon landing so I could regain control of my descent. The impact jarred me, my paws digging into the ground as I skated along with the landslide racing down the mountain. A flat ledge to my left caught my eye, and I leaped, my body’s momentum carrying me too close, but I managed to catch myself at the very last moment. As I stared into the blackness below, I saw her face.

It is enough, my son, let us go.

The despair and the grief almost overwhelmed me. “I can’t.”

Her frown was so familiar, so missed, that my tears ran freely. “I can’t move past it. I can’t.”

Yes. You can.

My mother’s image faded, replaced with one of Willow. Her steady gaze, the fierce determination in her eyes when she stood her ground against the chaos. I remembered how she had refused to back down when I tried to push her away, how she’d insisted that we were stronger together.

Stronger together .

The words echoed in my mind, a whisper of hope in the storm raging inside me.

I took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, grounding myself in that thought. It was true, wasn’t it? With her by my side, I could fight against anything. She had been there, ready to fight, unyielding and brave, reminding me of what I was fighting for.

Who I was fighting for.

The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning, electrifying and terrifying. I was stronger with her, not in spite of her.

She didn’t make me weak; she made me whole .

I closed my eyes, remembering her standing next to me, her eyes sparkling with determination and compassion. I remembered the warmth of her hand in mine, the laughter we shared, and the way she lit up even the darkest corners of my soul.

“Willow,” I breathed, the name leaving my lips like a prayer. The thought of losing her was what truly terrified me, not the threat of my own darkness. I needed to protect her, not just from the dangers that lurked in the shadows, but from my own insecurities and fears.

She was bound to me. As strong a tie that any mate bond held.

Because she was mine .

Suddenly, I felt a surge of resolve, a fire igniting within me. I wasn’t going to let my past dictate my future. I was done letting it define me. I was done hiding, done running. I could face the darkness, my darkness but I wouldn’t have to do it alone. With Willow, I had a chance—a chance to be the man I wanted to be.

The alpha I wanted to be.

I wanted to fight for the life we could build…together.

I turned away from the edge, my heart pounding with newfound clarity. I needed to return to her. I had to let her in, and show her that I was willing to fight, not just for myself but for us .

As I made my way down the slope, determination surged through me with every step. I wouldn’t let my demons win. I would embrace the light she brought into my life and face whatever threats awaited us together.

“Together,” I whispered, the word settling deep in my heart as I descended into the woods.

It felt right, like a promise I was finally ready to keep.

I moved quickly down the mountain, each step pulling me closer to Willow. The snow fell softly around me, the cold biting through my fur, but I barely noticed. Everything in me had been sharpened into a single purpose—getting to her. Each step was a reminder of what had happened, of the darkness that was as much a part of Shadowridge Peak as I was, and that each step led to the clear path back.

Her scent reached me first.

Instantly, I settled, like the calm after the storm. As I weaved through the trees, I saw her, wrapped in a blanket on the porch of Nell’s cabin, her eyes scanning the shadows. She looked tired and vulnerable, waiting in the pale gray of morning. When her gaze found mine, she stilled but didn’t move even as my wolf closed the distance. Willow waited, her look steady and strong as she watched me approach. When I stopped at the foot of the steps to the cabin, she got up and reached out her hand, burying her fingers in my fur.

“Caleb.” Her voice was soft, and there was an edge of something else there—something I didn’t want to admit that I’d put there. A tremor of worry. “Could have used you for my feet last night,” she murmured, stroking her fingers through my fur. “I’ve got your sweatpants. Eamon found them in the trees.”

After walking inside, she came back with them, and I could smell the warmth of the cabin. Shifting, I took them from her, pulling them on hurriedly, eager to talk to her. As I took the first step onto the porch, I hesitated.

No . Enough was enough.

I swallowed hard and climbed the steps with determination. This wasn’t like last time, when I hadn’t wanted to enter a cabin I knew. This time, my hesitation stemmed from the good memories this place held. Nell shouting at me, calling me a good-for-nothing son-of-an-alpha after catching me stealing her freshly baked apple pie. Or the time Eamon had knocked over her newly planted flowerpots because we were racing each other blindfolded.

Willow stopped me, her hand resting lightly on my bare chest. “You don’t need to come in if it’s too hard. I can come out.”

Goddess, this woman . It was freezing, and even then, she was willing to do what made me comfortable.

I knew then I would give her whatever she wanted for the rest of her life.

Taking her fingers gently, I kissed the fingertips. “Willow.” I took a breath, the words on my tongue almost foreign for how raw they felt. “I’m sorry. I was wrong in how I spoke to you. How I’ve acted.” My head dipped down as I glanced at her abdomen. “For what I’ve done.”

When I looked up, a frown was already forming as her eyes searched my face, like she was bracing herself for something she wasn’t sure I’d say. Reaching up, I smoothed my thumb over her brow.

“I’m still fucking furious at you for coming up this mountain and putting yourself in danger,” I told her, my hands clasping her cheeks as I tilted her head back to look at me. “And you will never ever do something so reckless again.” I saw her about to fight back and softly kissed her brow. “But I should never have spoken to you and treated you as I did. Fear ruled my tongue. I’m sorry.”

I noticed a bruise on her temple, and I softly brushed my thumb over it. “I hate to see you hurt, and I hate when I am the one that hurt you.”

Her hand knocked mine away gently. “I fell coming up the mountain. Ask Eamon, I’m sure it will make him laugh for a long time,” she grumbled. Willow reached up, her hand cupping my cheek. “You never hurt me, Caleb. I trust you.”

And she did. I knew it in my soul.

“I thought keeping you safe meant keeping you out,” I admitted, feeling the weight of my words. “But you were right; all I did was make it worse.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I need you to know…I don’t want to do this alone anymore. I don’t want to keep you out.” I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so nervous. “I’m not perfect—Luna knows that better than anyone—but I want to be, for you.”

Willow was watching me, her expression unreadable as she held my gaze. For a moment, a flare of panic made me think she was about to turn away, that maybe I had ruined things beyond what I could ever hope to repair. But then she took a breath, letting it out slowly as she reached for me, her fingers resting lightly on my arm.

“You don’t have to be perfect, Caleb. I’m not expecting that.” Her voice was steady, and it held a note of something firm, unwavering. “But I need you to trust me. To be willing to let me in. And that means…you can’t just disappear when it gets hard.” Her eyes held mine, almost daring me to challenge her.

Even though I had realized it up on the peak, hearing her say it, I knew she was right. I nodded, running a hand over the back of my neck, feeling the weight of her words settle like stones in my chest. My hope that we would be okay was fading, but I had to keep going.

“I know,” I managed, my voice low. “And I won’t. Being with you…it scares me, I won’t lie. Really fucking terrifies me, not because of what’s out there—I will handle any threat that comes at you—but because of what I might find inside myself .” I wanted to close the distance, but I knew I had to finish this. “But I realized one thing tonight. Maybe…maybe with you, I don’t have to be afraid.”

Willow took a step closer, her fingers finding mine, slipping between them until our hands were intertwined. That small gesture, one that should have felt simple but didn’t, made me realize how much I’d been missing.

“Really?” she said softly, her gaze steady and warm. “I don’t want you to be scared of being with me. I want you to tell me if you’re struggling with anything. I’m human. You’re a shifter. We’re not supposed to work. But I think we do, and if you really want to, then I think we can make it work together. And if we get shit for it, well, we can face that together too. Every part of it.” She looked up at me hopefully. “Deal?”

The corners of my mouth lifted into a real smile, one that felt like a release. “Deal.” The word came out as solid as I felt.

Willow’s gaze softened, her lips parted, and for a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Her hand tightened in mine, and without a word, she pulled me closer, her warmth drawing me in like always. I reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, my thumb lingering against her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her breath.

Slowly, I leaned down, our faces so close I could see every shade of green in her eyes and could feel the faint flutter of her heartbeat between us. The bond between us thrummed with a low energy that I could feel wrapping itself around my heart as our lips met.

The kiss started gentle, tentative, but it deepened as I felt her respond, her hand sliding to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. The air around us seemed to still, and I lost myself in the feeling of her mouth on mine, a heady mixture of tenderness and unspoken promise. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was an anchor, a pledge, and a release all at once.

When we finally pulled back, my forehead rested against hers, our breaths mingling in the quiet. She smiled up at me, and I felt the last of the tension between us dissolve.

“There,” she whispered, her hand still warm in mine. “Now, you’re stuck with me.”

I couldn’t help but smile, a real one, and pull her close again, wrapping my arm around her and holding her close. “Exactly where I want to be.”

As we stood there, I felt a grounding peace settle over me. For the first time, I knew I’d found a place—not in a territory or a duty, but right here, with her—and the unwavering presence of her strength beside me was what I’d been missing for so long.

Home.