Chapter 6 Calder
SIX
CALDER
Calder had known intellectually that not telling Adam about being a shifter was a risk. Waiting until they knew one another better had seemed like a good idea… except when did they know one another enough?
So he’d kept delaying, and now he was living the consequences of that.
He sighed internally and kept pushing water out through his siphon, powering through the ocean.
It was soothing moving through the ocean in his natural form: the pressure and movement of the water against his body, all his arms and tentacles free.
He was swimming deep enough that everything was dim and cozy, wrapping around him endlessly.
Life was a lot simpler in the ocean. Especially if you were at the top of the food chain.
His mind was always his mind, but he could allow his animal instincts to take the forefront a little more in this form. As much as he brought his angst with him, being deep in the ocean did make his human problems feel a little more remote.
But he was still dwelling on them.
This wasn’t, at all, the result he’d wanted, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat to keep Adam safe. When he’d grabbed Adam, it had been pure instinct.
Absently, he reached out with his tentacles to grab multiple fish, his arms guiding them to his mouth even as he searched for more. He needed to eat a lot in this form.
Maybe his rescue had been necessary as well as life-saving.
Would Calder ever have gotten up the courage to say anything, or would his lie have been compounded by more and more time?
Sure, it was a lie of omission, but he didn’t suppose that made Adam feel any better about it.
Calder had cherished every detail he’d learned about Adam, but he hadn’t been as forthcoming about himself.
Which was why he was now swimming around the ocean eating raw fish and feeling sorry for himself.
Yes, it was possible that if he’d told Adam right away, his pretty witch—not his, he reminded himself glumly—would have refused to go out with him.
But Calder didn’t know that for sure. He’d chosen not to take the risk.
He’d wanted to spend time with Adam, and he’d taken the easy way out to do that—which worked great until the moment of reckoning.
Calder could envision a whole lot of wanting in his future.
He took more of his frustrations out on the ocean’s fish population (and a few crustaceans, but who was counting?), and when he finally hauled himself out of the ocean and regained his land legs, he felt…
if not better, at least marginally less as though the world was the most terrible place that had ever existed.
Calder had been disappointed before. He’d made mistakes before.
And while this might prove to be the worst in his entire life, he knew that he’d survive it, too, in the end.
(There was almost nothing that he couldn’t survive.) It might be terrible and lonely…
but he’d done that for centuries already.
Maybe he was simply a lot stupider than the Magic had given him credit for. He’d had his chance, and he’d blown it.
Thanks to shifter magic, Calder was dressed in the clothes that he’d been wearing before he shifted, and his cellphone was in his pocket. It was inaccessible when he was shifted, but it never took any water or pressure damage, no matter how deep Calder swam.
To his surprise, there was a message.
Adam: Can I see you today? Anytime after 5pm. Just come by the apartment. Please.
Calder looked up at the top of the screen. Shit. It was almost nine. That was way too late, but Adam had said anytime after five. Calder realized that he was already walking in the direction of Adam’s apartment. He increased his pace.
Should Calder have texted an apology after Adam left him?
He’d been so clearly upset that Calder hadn’t thought it right to bother him—and then he’d gone to drown his sorrow in the depths of the ocean, entirely out of cell range.
But now Adam had texted that they should meet, and there was no tone to read in texts.
How upset was he? Obviously, it wasn’t good that Calder hadn’t apologized for his mistake.
His fingers itched to send an apology now, but he was nearly at the man’s apartment, and an apology in person would be better—if he had the chance to get an apology out. Maybe Adam wanted to see him face-to-face to break up with him.
Calder’s stomach clenched at the thought.
Well, if that was the case, he had to face it, and delaying wouldn’t make it any better.
But he did at least think to send a more prosaic text.
Calder: Just saw your message. On my way if you’re still awake. No worries if you’re sleeping already. I can be available whenever you want tomorrow.
He would sleep outside Adam’s building and be ready first thing in the morning, if that was what Adam wanted.
The three dots bounced, and a response came through a moment later.
Adam: I’m awake. Come now.
Adam: Please.
Calder broke into a jog and ran the rest of the way.
Adam buzzed him up, and Calder climbed the stairs two at a time.
The door was open when he got there, and Adam ushered him in.
Calder couldn’t quite figure out the expression on his face, but he could see the tension in every line of Adam’s body.
He looked terrible, circles under his puffy eyes, not enough color in his face, and hair a bird’s nest like he’d been running his fingers constantly through it.
And then Adam grabbed something off the little hall table and whacked him with it. Calder deserved it, so he didn’t move.
Adam’s cheeks went crimson. “Oh, shit, sorry. These are for you. Shit.”
Calder took the… flowers?
They were, unmistakably, flowers. It was a mixed bouquet of what looked like lilies, daisies, fronds of some sort, and tiny purple flowers he didn’t know the name of.
They looked slightly bedraggled from being smacked against him, but he finally realized that Adam hadn’t been trying to hit him.
He’d been trying to hand Calder flowers.
“What are these?” he asked a bit stupidly.
Adam cleared his throat, looking everywhere but at Calder.
“I, uh, wanted to apologize, and I know it’s a cliché, but it seemed better than chocolates or a stuffed animal or something, and I really didn’t mean to hit you with them, I just wanted you to know that I’m so sorry, and I didn’t mean to be such a terrible person, and I swear if you give me another chance, I’ll do better, but I totally understand if you don’t want to give me another chance, I just wanted to make sure that you knew I was sorry! ”
Adam’s chest was heaving by the end of this speech, which was no wonder given that Calder hadn’t seen him take a breath once as all his words tangled together.
Calder had no idea what was going on, but it seemed pretty clear that Adam wasn’t trying to break up with him.
“Sweetheart,” Calder said, and Adam flinched, making Calder change his mind practically mid-word. “Come here.”
Cautiously, Adam approached, and Calder carefully pulled him into his arms and wrapped him up carefully in a hug. Adam buried his face in the crook between Calder’s neck and shoulder and clutched at him.
Calder held him for a long moment, relishing in the feel of his mate tucked up against him, feeling him calm the longer they stood there.
Finally, Calder drew back slightly, though he didn’t let Adam go completely.
“You’re definitely not a terrible person. What’s this all about?”
Adam’s gaze slipped away from his, but then he seemed to firm his resolve and raised his eyes again. He swallowed visibly.
“I didn’t realize how prejudiced I was against shifters. Simon set me straight. I thought I was being reasonable after what happened to my family. But of course it’s asinine to act like all shifters are to blame for two bad things that happened.”
Frowning, Calder stroked Adam’s back with the hand that wasn’t holding the flowers.
He wished desperately he could use his arms and tentacles and have enough limbs to hold Adam exactly the way he wanted, but it seemed a little early for that.
Something had hurt his pretty mate. Calder was entirely prepared to drag that something to the depths of the ocean and destroy it utterly.
First things first.
“Is that why you don’t want to get bonded?” Calder asked gently.
Adam nodded. Then his brow furrowed. “I always thought so. I mean—” He made a frustrated sound. “You know how a witch can’t bond with a witch?”
Calder nodded. “Or with a human. You need a shifter.”
He nodded again. His voice was raw. “My mom and dad were both witches.”
“No bond.”
Adam blew out a breath. “And when I was eight, my mom fell in love with a shifter. She wanted me to go live with them overseas, but I didn’t want to leave my dad or my friends, and so she just… left.”
Calder could hear the underlying childish hurt, the wound that had never quite healed.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Calder said, even as he decided “screw it” and used a tentacle to place the flowers back on the hall table so that he could use both arms properly to pull Adam back into a hug.
Adam nestled against him, tucked up against his shoulder once more.
“It was… hard,” Adam admitted thickly. “I didn’t totally understand what was going on.
Dad was angry and hurt, especially once he heard that they bonded and the shifter was her familiar.
She started another family with her shifter mate, and it…
uh, felt a lot like we were replaced. As I got older I knew my dad wasn’t being totally reasonable, but I didn’t…
I didn’t apply it globally like I should have.
So I’m friendly with Joseph—you know, the shifter from work?
—and I correct Dad if he’s ever rude about him, but that only made him worry that I was falling for his wiles. ”
Calder snorted. “Does Joseph have wiles?”