23. Caleb
23
CALEB
C aleb's basement gym smelled of metal and sweat as he moved through another set of pull-ups. The familiar burn in his muscles helped quiet the storm of thoughts in his mind. Almost.
"You're going to wear yourself out before tomorrow," Fiona called from the doorway. Her presence sent a wave of warmth through his chest, temporarily drowning out his darker musings.
"Just warming up," he grunted, dropping from the bar. Sweat darkened his tank top and trickled down his neck.
"Right. Because the hundred push-ups I watched you do earlier were just a light stretch?" She crossed her arms, green eyes narrowing. "Don't think I haven't been counting."
"Didn't realize I had a personal trainer." He grabbed a towel, wiping his face. "Though most trainers don't make pasta quite like you do."
"You mean the disaster from earlier?" She laughed. "I'm pretty sure that sauce could qualify as a weapon."
"It wasn't that bad." He moved closer, enjoying how she didn't back away despite his sweaty state. "The parts that weren't stuck to the pan were almost edible."
"Such high praise." She poked him. "Now stop avoiding the real issue. You need rest, not more training."
The concern in her voice made his chest tight. He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I know. Just trying to keep busy."
"Well, I have a better idea for that." She tugged him toward the stairs. "I found your secret stash of terrible action movies. The ones with the really bad special effects."
"Those are classics," he protested, following her up. His home felt different with her in it - warmer, more alive. The thought of losing this, of losing her...
"Hey." She stopped, turning to face him. "I can hear you brooding from here. Tonight's not about tomorrow. Tonight's about watching awful CGI wolves and throwing popcorn at the screen when they get the howls wrong."
Caleb pulled her close, breathing in her scent. "You're something else, you know that?"
"I know. Now go shower, you smell like a gym sock." She wrinkled her nose. "And hurry up - the popcorn's getting cold."
Caleb pretended to watch the movie playing on his TV, but his attention kept drifting to Fiona curled up against him on the couch. Her fingers twisted anxiously in the hem of her shirt, a nervous habit he'd noticed over the past week. The scent of her worry hung thick in the air, mixing with the butter from their untouched popcorn.
On screen, a clearly CGI wolf howled at an obviously fake moon.
"That's not even close to how we sound," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "We're much more dignified."
"Says the wolf who howled at the ice cream truck last week." Fiona's attempt at teasing fell flat, her voice tight with tension.
"It was playing my song." He pulled her closer, running his fingers through her red hair. The simple contact steadied him, even as his own doubts gnawed at his insides.
The movie's protagonist started a dramatic monologue about destiny. Caleb fought the urge to roll his eyes - Hollywood never got anything right about shifters.
"You know," Fiona said suddenly, "we could just run away to Vegas. Get married by an Elvis impersonator, live off blackjack winnings."
"Tempting." He pressed a kiss to her temple, breathing in her familiar scent. "But I'd make a terrible showgirl."
Her laugh was shaky but real. "I don't know, you've got the legs for it."
"You've been staring at my legs?"
"Someone has to appreciate them."
The banter felt forced, but he appreciated her effort to maintain normalcy. To pretend tomorrow wasn't looming over them like a storm cloud. His wolf paced restlessly beneath his skin, already anticipating the fight ahead.
"Caleb?" Her voice was small now, vulnerable in a way that made his chest ache.
"Hmm?"
"Promise me you'll be careful tomorrow?"
He wanted to tell her everything would be fine, that Victor didn't stand a chance. But he wouldn't lie to her. Instead, he tightened his arms around her and said, "I’ll try my best."
The movie droned on, neither of them paying it any attention as they held each other in the soft darkness of his living room.
Fiona suddenly sat up straight, her eyes blazing with that dangerous spark Caleb had come to recognize. The one that usually preceded either brilliance or chaos.
"We should go hit them now," she said, jabbing a finger toward the window. "Tonight. While they're not expecting it. Get the pack together and-"
"No." Caleb kept his voice gentle but firm.
"Why not? Victor wouldn't see it coming. We could-"
"Because I already issued the challenge." He shifted to face her fully, taking in the way her hair caught the TV's flickering light. "Going after them now would be like..." He searched for an analogy she'd understand. "Like showing up to throw down at a scheduled wedding instead of waiting for the actual cage match."
"That's a terrible analogy." She crossed her arms. "And weddings are overrated anyway."
"The point is, it would dishonor everything my pack stands for." His wolf bristled at the mere thought. "Besides, I'd still have to fight Victor in the end."
"Then we'll just take him out first!" A small flame sparked between her fingers - a sure sign she was getting worked up.
"Fiona."
"What if we just set his fancy mansion on fire? Just a little bit?"
"Fi-"
"Or I could turn his pretentious sports car into a barbecue."
Caleb couldn't help it - he laughed. The sound seemed to startle them both. "Has anyone ever told you you're slightly terrifying when you're protective?"
"Only slightly?" She tried to maintain her fierce expression, but her lips twitched. "I must be losing my touch."
He pulled her back against his chest, nuzzling her hair. "Trust me, you're plenty scary. But this is something I have to handle the right way."
Fiona's shoulders slumped, the fire in her eyes dimming as she curled deeper into his side. Caleb's wolf whined at the sight, wanting to erase that defeated look from her face. The scent of her anxiety filled his nostrils.
"I just... I hate feeling helpless."
Caleb ran his fingers through her hair, marveling at how the strands caught the light like dying embers. "You? Helpless? The woman who took on three Nightfang wolves and lived to critique their fighting style?"
"That's different." She picked at a loose thread on his shirt. "I could actually do something then. Tomorrow I just have to watch."
"Hey." He tilted her chin up, meeting those green eyes that had somehow become his anchor. "Remember what you made me promise?"
"To win?" A ghost of a smile touched her lips.
"Exactly." His thumb stroked her cheek.
"This can't be your last night, Caleb. I won't accept that."
Something in her voice made his heart stutter. He pulled her closer, breathing in her scent. "If it was though," he murmured against her hair, "I'm glad I'm spending it with you."
Caleb gently pulled Fiona down beside him on the couch, arranging them so she fit perfectly against his chest. Her hair tickled his nose, carrying the scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke that was uniquely her. His wolf preened at having her so close, safe in his arms.
"You're like a furnace," he murmured, nuzzling a spot behind her ear.
"Fire witch, remember?" She wiggled back against him, sending sparks of awareness through his body. "Though you're not exactly cool yourself."
"Wolf thing." His hand found hers, fingers intertwining against her chest. "Higher body temperature."
"Convenient for cuddles."
"Is that what we're doing? Cuddling?"
"Well, we're certainly not watching this movie anymore." She gestured at the TV where the protagonist was now inexplicably fighting zombie wolves. "Though I have to admit, the special effects are getting better."
Caleb laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. Her warmth against him felt right in a way he couldn't explain. His wolf, usually so restless, settled contentedly.
"Better than real wolves?" he asked, lips brushing her neck.
"Mmm, real wolves are definitely more..." She inhaled sharply as he nipped gently at her skin. "...distracting."
His hand slid to her hip, thumb tracing circles through her shirt. "Distracting how?"
"You know exactly how." She turned in his arms, green eyes sparking with mischief and desire. "You're not as subtle as you think, Mr. Alpha."
"Me? Subtle?" He pressed his forehead to hers. "Never."
The movie's dramatic soundtrack faded into background noise as they lay there, breathing each other in. Tomorrow's fight seemed distant now, overshadowed by the way she fit against him, the way her heart raced in time with his.
"Your heart's pounding," he whispered.
"So is yours." Her fingers traced patterns on his chest.
Caleb traced his thumb along Fiona's jawline. His wolf hummed with contentment as her fingers twisted in his shirt. He focused on her lips, slightly parted and curved in a teasing smile.
"You're staring," she whispered, her breath warm against his skin.
"Just appreciating the view." He closed the distance between them, capturing her lips with his. The kiss started soft, tentative, but quickly deepened as Fiona pressed closer.
His wolf surged with possessive pride as she made a small sound in the back of her throat. Her fingers threaded through his hair, nails scraping his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine.
"Your eyes are glowing," she murmured against his lips.
"Side effect of kissing beautiful witches." He nipped at her bottom lip, drawing another of those intoxicating sounds from her.
The heat of her body against his was driving him crazy. His enhanced senses picked up every slight change in her breathing, every skip of her heartbeat. The scent of her desire mixed with her natural cinnamon-smoke smell made his wolf want to howl.
"Caleb," she murmured against his lips, her voice a mix of desire and amusement. "If you're trying to distract me from worrying about tomorrow, it's working."