Chapter 7 - Lila
Unfamiliar smells startle me from my sleep, forcing my eyes open when the wrong notes of pine, smoke, and something distinctly male reach me. My surroundings don’t register at first, but when I recognise traces of Caleb’s scent, it all comes flooding back.
Reaching over for Astrid, my hand meets the cool sheets, and my stomach drops.
“Astrid?”
I sit up fast, pulse roaring in my ears as I glance around. But the room is empty, and the blankets on her side are rumpled.
Panic sits heavily in my chest, and I’m on my feet before I can waste another moment, stumbling towards the door.
All rationality goes out the window as too many possibilities swim in my head at once, reminding me that we still aren’t safe, that there are few people on this island I can trust.
Throwing the door open, I hurry down the hall, rounding the corner to where I remember seeing the kitchen branching off from the living room.
“Astrid—”
Then I freeze, heart still thundering.
Astrid is sitting at the kitchen table, swinging her legs and humming absently to herself while warm light pours in. There’s a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her, along with fruit and juice. She pokes at it before taking another bite.
Relief nearly knocks me to my feet as I pull in a deep breath. Then I see him.
Caleb’s by the stove with a spatula in hand, and the muscles in his arm flex as he flips something in the pan. The familiar, overwhelming scent of him permeates the room, making me feel woozy for a beat. He glances over his shoulder at me the moment he senses me there.
“Morning,” he says simply, like nothing is out of the ordinary here.
I don’t answer, and I can’t. Not while there’s so much happening inside me at once, caught between the relief, along with irritation, resentment, and something too similar to how I used to feel. Seeing him standing there in that form-fitting tee is enough to make me stumble.
“I have eggs, Mama,” Astrid says, grinning as she waves her fork.
Forcing a smile for her, I take a breath and move in behind her, putting a hand against her back, more so to reassure myself. “I see that, sweetheart. Are they good?”
She nods without hesitation. “Mhm… better than yours.”
I huff to myself at that in feigned irritation, but my smile becomes more genuine then. “Traitor.”
She giggles and continues eating, and I swear, even with his back turned to us, Caleb’s lips pull in amusement.
“She was awake early,” Caleb eventually says while turning the burner off. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
My brows pinch together. “So you just took her?”
“I didn’t take her,” he says directly, looking barely ruffled by the subtle accusation. “She was hungry, so I obliged.”
Something ripples through me while I look at him, feeling the iciness between us. I know I’m being unreasonable, but my pulse hasn’t fully settled, and it’s hard not to let that bitterness out.
Astrid is unbothered by the conversation, still happy with her meal, so I exhale slowly and gently brush a hand against the back of her head.
“Next time, wake me up.”
His expression shifts, looking almost apologetic.
“Noted.”
Gazing at him a moment longer, I notice his hair is still damp, like he recently showered, and when he turns, carrying two plates of food, he reveals the tattoos along his arms I don’t remember him having.
He looks older now, which is a given, yet he’s still reminiscent of the boy who once made my heart race even when it never should’ve. And the one who shattered it all the same.
It’s all so confusing, but I push it down and look away to help Astrid with her fruit.
Caleb sets the plates down on the table, full of too much food, then stands by the coffee machine and pours himself a mug. But I catch the way he watches us, almost like he’s waiting for something, or, at the very least, is considering something.
When he returns to the table and sits with us, he listens while Astrid talks happily through breakfast, mentioning how Hunter showed her a puzzle trick and how Zane said she was smarter than all of them. She imitates their deep voices, making us both chuckle despite ourselves.
She’s carefree in a way I haven’t seen in a few days, and I cling to that, never wanting that to end.
But every so often, I catch Caleb watching me, or taking in how I interact with Astrid like he’s studying us.
And when breakfast comes to an end, Astrid wanders back into the living room to play with the old games, leaving the kitchen far too quiet. It’s obvious now how effective she is at diffusing tension and returning it in her absence.
“So,” Caleb begins after a moment, glancing at me with a neutral expression. “How old is she?”
It sounds like an innocent enough question, but I know better than to assume it isn’t loaded anyway. “Four.”
Something flexes in his jaw, and he pauses before asking, “Who’s her father?”
My heart lurches at that, and I try with everything I am not to lock up and make it obvious. “Why do you care?”
His gaze hardens. “Because another pack wants both of you, and even Wraith Peak wolves don’t pursue children without a reason. I want to know who fathered her.”
Despite the difficulty, I keep my breathing steady. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
The tension between us is blistering now, caused by everything left unsaid. I narrow my eyes at him, well aware that he’s digging.
“If this is about before, that was years ago. I moved on.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
My hand clenches beneath the table, nails biting in my palm to keep that panic at bay. But instead of letting the truth slip out, I lie.
“It was someone you don’t know,” I say coldly, hoping it’s biting enough to get him off my back. “Someone from another pack.”
Caleb’s posture changes in a way I can’t read, and his brows pull together while something unreadable moves across his face.
I can tell there’s plenty he wants to say, but instead, he settles for a simple response that still manages to sting anyway.
“I see…”
Not knowing why, I scramble for something else to say, whether it’s to add more weight to the lie or to soothe the tension in his face, even if I shouldn’t care. “He’s not in the picture.”
His jaw flexes, and he mutters, “Irritating.”
“What is?”
“That you have ties with someone from another pack, given what’s happening.”
While I have half the mind to assume I’m imagining it, that possessive edge in his words echoes in my mind, and it triggers something in me, reminding me of what he said yesterday in the woods.
“I don’t belong to you, so don’t pretend I do.”
Caleb pushes away from the counter and steps closer to the table again, not touching me, but close enough to feel oppressive in my space.
“I didn’t say you did. But I need to know who else might claim you, or Astrid,” he mutters, not bothering to hide the friction in his tone.
It both makes my spine tingle and stirs my anger even more.
“No one will. Just drop it.”
He watches me for a beat, letting that tension burn between us even longer, then he backs off and crosses his arms. “There will be a pack meeting later. It’s the first one since I’ve returned.”
“Great,” I mumble passively. “Enjoy your homecoming then.”
“You’re going.”
I pause, and my pulse jumps again. More dread floods my system. “I’m not going. I don’t go to them… I haven’t in a while.”
He doesn’t budge. “You’re going.”
My anger snaps back into place without warning. “You don’t get to order me around.”
“It’s not an order. It’s an expectation,” Caleb utters, annoyingly calm in the face of my irritation.
“And it’s for your sake. If Wraith Peak is making moves on you, then I need the elders and enforcers briefed.
Besides, you’re in this pack. You should act like it, especially if you want Astrid to be safe. ”
He doesn’t get it. Even after all this time, he doesn’t realise how painful that is for me, or how all those years of torment come rushing in all over again.
“No,” I mumble, throat tight. “They don’t want me there.”
“It doesn’t matter what they want,” he returns, tone clipped but determined. “You’re under my protection.”
Every instinct in me screams to fight him on it, but I know it won’t get me anywhere, so I clamp my mouth shut again.
After a beat, Caleb forces out a breath. “Don’t go far. I’ll let you know when we’re leaving.”
My jaw clenches, and I urge myself to speak regardless of how my skin burns at the thought of going. “I have work, you know. I can’t just drop everything because you say so.”
He pauses, looking genuinely confused. “Work?”
I scoff. “Yeah, work. The thing people do to survive. I do home care for the elderly in town.”
Caleb frowns at that, almost like the mere idea offends him to some degree. “You don’t need to.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re staying here, and you’re safe here, as I said. Let me handle the rest.”
The thought both stuns me and makes my blood boil. “And there it is…”
“What?”
“The arrogance, the control, and the complete disregard for the life I’ve built without you,” I fire back, careful not to be loud enough for Astrid to hear me.
“I’m not disregarding anything.”
“Yes, you are,” I mutter, body tense with anger. “Regardless of what you might think of it, my work matters, and so does my independence. I’m not some fragile thing that needs sheltering.”
Caleb’s eyes darken at that, losing some of his cool. “I’m just trying to help you, Lila.”
“And I’m trying to stay sane.”
We stare at each other too long for comfort, both resisting the urge to blow up completely.
Finally, Caleb steps back, expression unreadable. “Just be ready.”
Without waiting for another word, he heads for the door and grabs his jacket, throwing it on. He leaves, and the house sits silently with a lingering note of finality from his exit.
Still in the kitchen, my chest burns with my rage.
I should be relieved for that undeniable safety, but instead, I feel cornered and suffocated.
After I carefully constructed those walls high enough to protect myself and Astrid, Caleb has stormed back into my life with his absurd demands, expectations, and a connection I tried to kill years ago.
Even with him gone, I can still feel the ground shifting under my feet and all the ways he’s turning things upside down.
Worst of all, I fear the part of me that still responds to him anyway.