Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Caleb sits behind his desk. Adam and Logan are sitting on the couch on the opposite side of the room. I stand, too nervous to sit.
Caleb’s phone begins to ring. He puts it on speaker.
“This is Knox.”
“Alpha Knox,” a man’s voice repeats. He sounds calm. Polished. “This is Director Grant, Department of National Security. We appreciate you taking this call.” Grant pauses, then continues. “Given recent…events, we felt it was important to establish direct communication.”
Caleb says nothing. He makes Grant fill the silence.
Grant clears his throat. “You are currently harboring American citizens who were forcibly removed from a private research facility.”
“They were imprisoned.” Caleb’s voice is flat.
“According to our records—”
Caleb interrupts. “I’m not playing this game with you. Your citizens are demanding an investigation into HPAW, and you’re worried I’m going to leak information regarding your breeding programs.”
The line hums.
“We’d prefer cooperation over escalation.” Grant eventually says. It sounds like he’s speaking through gritted teeth.
“So would I,” Caleb says. “That’s why I’m still on this call.”
I pace the length of the room, biting at my nails. I hate not knowing where this goes. Hate that one wrong word could start a war.
Logan and Adam are sitting ramrod straight, so still, I’m not even sure that they’re breathing. Sash is downstairs with Chunk, keeping him occupied until this call is over.
I have half a mind to ask her to bring him up. I could use a fat roll.
“What do you want?” Grant asks.
“HPAW dismantled.” Caleb’s answer is immediate. “All facilities. All funding. All shadow corporations.”
“That’s not within my authority.”
“Then put someone on the phone who has it.”
There’s a quiet rustling on the other end of the line.
I wonder who else is in the room with Grant.
I’m certain he’s not alone. He’s probably surrounded by high-ranking government officials.
Is the American President with him? I don’t know much about President Moore, but I’m certain I don’t like him.
“And the individuals currently under your protection?” Grant asks, changing the subject. “What of them?”
“They stay with me.”
“And should they decide to speak out?”
Caleb’s hands ball into tight fists. “They won’t.”
“We’d love a firmer answer from you.”
“You’re not getting one.”
Another pause.
“You’re asking for a lot,” Grant says. “HPAW is the backbone of our country. Shutting them down won’t come without costs.”
Caleb blinks. “Are you aware of what HPAW did to my mate? You should be thankful that I’m offering any alternative to war.”
I look down. I don’t want this to be about me.
Grant breathes down the line. “Your silence won’t last forever.”
“No,” Caleb admits. “But it will last long enough for you to clean up your mess.”
The line goes silent for a long minute. Have they muted themselves? When Grant speaks again, he sounds frustrated.
“We’re prepared for a formal meeting. Tomorrow.”
Caleb shoots me a look. “Send details.”
He ends the call.
The room exhales, and for a moment, nobody speaks.
Logan jumps to his feet. “I’ll prepare our talking points.”
Adam doesn’t move right away. He’s looking at his hand, where his marking once lived. Has he spoken to Bells at all recently? He’s been avoiding visiting the warehouse apartments, I suspect because Bells lives there.
“I need fat baby rolls,” I say. “Immediately.”
Adam laughs, then mumbles something incoherent and leaves.
Caleb follows me downstairs into the lobby. Sash and Rosy are behind the reception desk, both of them looking awfully impatient. They rise as we descend the stairs, questions pouring out of their mouths before we reach the bottom step.
Caleb reaches over the reception desk and plucks Chunk up into his arms. He blows spit bubbles, then lets out a happy giggle.
“Ev,” Rosy says, drawing my attention.
She points to a large box sitting on her desk. “These are presents…for the humans. Their mates are hoping we can deliver them.”
They brought presents? My lips curl. “I’ll take them.”
I’d be more than happy to.
My shoulders burn as I hurry into the warehouse apartment building, and I shoot the shifter who opens the door for me a grateful smile before rushing up the stairs. I’m in a great mood, and it’s impossible to hide.
I step into the common room, my three shifter escorts close behind. Adam has chosen not to join me today.
The room’s attention shifts toward me as I burst inside—panting and sweating—and I offer the room what I hope looks more like a smile than a grimace as I shuffle to the nearest table. I set the box of gifts on the table.
Jack peers at me over the back of the couch. “What is that?”
“Presents,” I say. “From your mates.”
Jack hums, his cheeks flushing despite himself. He was the first to request a meeting with his mate. She’s a beautiful brown-haired woman, and she gave me an alarming amount of information for her packet. At only nineteen, she sure had a lot to share.
Her packet was easily the largest.
Jack must know everything about her by now. She left nothing out.
Beside Jack is Bells. She avoids looking in my direction. Fine by me.
I’ve heard from others that she’s actually quite pleasant to be around, but I haven’t personally seen that. She’s rude to me, as well as to Adam. She blames us for HPAW’s assassination attempt on her.
That’s not my fault, and she needs to get over it and make amends with Adam. He’s depressed.
I look away from her, then bring my hands together with a clap. “Jack isn’t the only one with presents. Your mates aren’t permitted to contact you without permission, but they have gifts.”
Jack and the two other humans who have tentatively opened communication with their mates come forward, their flighty gazes darting between me and the box of presents. They’re eager to open them. I can just tell.
I step away, making space for them to look. My escorts close in on me whenever I’m within reach of the humans, so I remove myself from the area to prevent it from happening. I stand aside, rocking back on my heels as Jack and the others begin looking through the box.
Antonio’s mate, the blonde human woman, lets out an exaggerated sigh.
“You haven’t brought me any gifts,” she teases.
She curls her fingers around his forearm. I read into the way he leans into her, his lips touching the shell of her ear. They look comfortable. Very comfortable.
I clear my throat, then address the room. “Alpha Knox has connections with the Australian, Norwegian, Portuguese, and UK governments. He believes they would be willing to offer citizenship to any of you who wish to leave.”
I pause, waiting for a reaction. The humans offer none. The woman beside Jack rips open her gift basket, not listening to a single word I say.
I glance at Bells. We make brief eye contact before she looks down, her shoes of sudden interest. Is she not going to jump at the opportunity to leave? Surprising.
“Anyway,” I continue. “Just let me or Sash know if you’d like us to arrange anything.”
I manage to hide my giddiness as I leave the building, but it escapes me the second I step outside. I spin toward my escorts, my smile wide.
“None of them asked to leave,” I blurt out. “Not one.” I bounce on my toes. “Don’t tell Caleb. I want to be the one to tell him.”
The shifters laugh, then transform into their animal forms. They’re not particularly chatty, which is fine. I’ll take comfortable silence over angry brooding any day of the week.
I drive at an unsafe speed to the house Caleb picked out for us to view. I’m eager to bring Chunk home, but I won’t do it until we’ve relocated.
He’s too precious to risk.
This house looks perfect online. It’s closer to the main pack lands, and from the photos, it’s stunning. It’s a beautiful colonial-style with modern finishes and a large, wraparound porch. The property is just under five acres, and the house is set away from the road and private.
There’s a large yard. Enough space for children to run.
Caleb’s already waiting for me on the front porch, and I haphazardly park my car before hurrying to join him.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say, pulling Caleb in for a quick kiss. “I let the humans know about their options for leaving the pack.”
Caleb presses his lips together. “And?”
“And none of them took me up on the offer.”
I wish I could photograph Caleb’s reaction. His lips curl into a soft, genuine smile, and relief hits his eyes so fast it almost startles me. Then he scrunches his nose and looks away, trying to hide his excitement.
He turns back to me with a neutral expression.
“That’s exciting, Ev,” he says. “Let’s wait to celebrate until they’ve had time to process that information, though. They might change their minds.”
Blah. I’m already excited.
Caleb unlocks the front door, then takes my hand. I give him a tight squeeze, my heart pounding as we step into the foyer. The home is empty, and our feet echo. I like the hardwood floors and the bright, open rooms. It’s the first thing I notice.
We spend several minutes exploring the first floor.
“It’s a bit big,” Caleb says. He shoots me a sideways look. “That’s good if we want a lot of children.”
I snort. “One at a time. Relax.”
He’s right, though. There’s more space than we currently need, but we’ll grow into it. I don’t want to be moving every five years. I want to settle. Whatever home we make—I damn well expect to grow old and die in it.
We head upstairs. I pause in the first spare bedroom.
“We could put Chunk’s crib under the window,” I comment. “That would be nice.”
Caleb gulps, his throat bobbing. “My dad’s name was Hudson,” he says quietly. He doesn’t look at me when he says it. “I always imagined I would name my first son after him. Chunk… He would make a nice Hudson, don’t you think?”
“Hudson.” I test the name, softer this time. “Like the lake?”
Caleb places a hand on the small of my back. “It’s a river. The Hudson River.”
Right. HPAW didn’t spend much time teaching me about bodies of water. They cared more about telling me fake horror stories regarding the shifters.
“I like the name Hudson,” I admit. “Hudson Knox. It has a nice ring to it.”
We enter the next room. I pause in the doorway. “How, um… How did your parents die?”
We’ve never spoken about it. Not really. Caleb, and sometimes Sash, vaguely reference them, but that’s about it. I know they passed away when Caleb was seventeen, but that’s the only detail I know.
“It was a freak accident,” Caleb says. He walks the perimeter of the room, then peeks into the closet. “They got caught in a snowstorm while returning from a smaller pack up north. They thought they could outrun it, but an avalanche hit. They didn’t make it out.”
Oh. What a horrible way to die.
“I was told they died quickly. Crushed.” Caleb blows out a breath. “That’s what Doctor Greg said, at least. He probably lied to spare my feelings.”
Maybe. How do you tell two teenagers that their parents suffered? You don’t.
“How did you find out?” I ask.
We enter the next room. It’s the primary bedroom, and it’s giant. Caleb leads me into the ensuite bathroom, slowly evaluating.
“At school,” he says. “I was pulled out of class. I had gotten into a fight with Adam the week prior. Kicked his ass. I thought it was about that.” He shrugs. “Anyway, we had an interim alpha until I turned eighteen. My birthday was only a few months away, so it wasn’t a long wait.”
Caleb spins around. “I love this house.”
It takes me a second to adjust to the abrupt change of topic. He’s deflecting. I don’t mind.
I cross the room, slipping my arms around Caleb’s waist. “The house loves you back.”
“I’m pretty sure it just tolerates me.”
“Do you think Hudson will like it?”
Caleb stills. His heart pounds, beating quickly against my ear. “I think he’ll love it.”