Ash
I know the moment he gets here.
Don’t ask me how. I’ve given up trying to rationalise it.
No, not angry, that’s not the right word.
I’m hurt.
Hurt that he didn’t trust me enough to tell me, even though the rational part of my brain knows it wasn’t that simple.
I’ve spent every night for the last week punishing him, well, punishing both of us really, because I’ve missed him. But I needed space to think and to wrap my head around everything, while selfishly still wanting him close by.
I don’t even bother with the pretence of going to bed tonight. I’m already in my sleep pants and a T-shirt, but I’m not tired.
Exhausted? Yes. Today has been emotionally draining, like I knew it would be.
It was good catching up with extended family, reminiscing about happier times when my nan was healthy.
Poignant, because it’s something she would’ve loved.
And after being around so many people all day, the quiet of my house seems extra heavy tonight.
I’m moving before I’ve consciously made the decision to go outside.
It’s a warm night so I don’t bother with a hoodie, only pausing long enough to put my slides on before opening the door.
Like I’ve done every night, I scan the trees at the end of my garden, my eyes drawn to that one spot like always.
The lights from my house don’t reach all the way back, I can’t see past the first few, but I know he’s there, watching, listening. I step outside and pull the door shut behind me.
“Hey.” He won’t answer, not when I asked him not to, but I talk to him anyway.
“It was the funeral today.” Saying it out loud makes my breath hitch and my eyes fill with tears, taking me by surprise.
I’ve been so good at being the strong one today, holding it together through the service and afterwards at the local pub so my mum didn’t have to.
I’ve never liked showing my emotions in public, not when I’m feeling scraped raw inside. But here in the dark and the quiet, I kind of want to let it out and just feel because there’s no one to see me break down.
Callum will see.
And I’m surprisingly okay with that. He’s already seen me at my worst, and knowing he’s out there, watching over me, makes it easier to give in and let the tears fall.
It’s not just about my nan. It’s a culmination of everything that’s happened over the last few weeks.
I must’ve finally reached my breaking point, because I lean over, elbows resting on my thighs, and cry into my hands for what feels like hours, until I’ve got no more tears left in me.
As cathartic as that was, I’m left with a strange kind of emptiness, and I really need a fucking hug. I shouldn’t ask. It’s unfair when I’ve shut him out so completely, but I just want him. “Cal?”
His name has barely left my mouth when there’s a rush of air and then strong hands haul me to my feet, pulling me against a solid chest that smells of wildness and home.
He wraps his arms around me and I close my eyes, sinking into the warmth of the hug I so desperately needed.
More tears fall when I thought I was done, and I don’t even know why this time, because I suddenly feel more settled than I have in days.
Like a part of me was missing and is now back in place.
I choke out a laugh, because how fucking cliché is that?
Doesn’t make it any less true.
“Ash.”
There’s so much emotion in the way he says my name. Sorrow, regret, hope . . . I lean back so I can see his face. It’s all there in his beautiful brown eyes. He’s hiding nothing this time, laying it all out there for me to see, and I fucking look my fill.
One hand slides down to the small of my back, the other cradles my jaw. “I’m so fucking sorry for the way you found out. I should’ve told you that night, and if I could go back and change things, I would.”
But I don’t think I would.
It’s a startling realisation to have after everything I said, but it’s like I can finally think clearly.
“No.” I take a deep breath, wanting to get this right.
“I think Morgan was right. I needed to hear it from him.” Hurt flares in his eyes, and I don’t want that.
There’s been enough hurt for both of us.
“He’s my best friend, Cal. My brother. He was the only one I could’ve heard it from and not freaked out.
More than I did,” I add quickly because obviously there was a little freaking out.
“And the night before he told me . . .” I wait to make sure he knows what I’m talking about.
When heat replaces the hurt in his eyes, I say, “I needed you to be who I thought you were in that moment. I don’t regret it—”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said.” I slide my hands up his chest, feeling the shaky inhale as he watches me, waiting for my next words. “I was hurt, shocked, so many emotions running around my head. You changed my whole reality, Cal.”
“I know.”
“It took a bit of adapting to.”
He stares into my eyes, searching for something. “And have you?”
I smile for what feels like the first time in ages. “I’m getting there.”
It takes a second, but I see the moment he starts to hope. His eyes brighten, his lips curve up in a tentative smile, and his thumb traces a path along my cheekbone.
And I’m done.
Done pretending I give a shit that he’s not human.
Done punishing the both of us for something that was always going to be difficult to navigate.
And done denying the fact that I want him with every bone in my body.
I step back, grabbing his hand in mine. “Come to bed.”
Tension crackles between us, the air electrified as I lead him through my darkened home into my bedroom. Anticipation has my body on high alert. We’ve been here before, but that was when I didn’t know.
Did he hold back last time we were together? Did he tame his animal side? Are there things he likes to do that—
“Hey.” Cal tugs on my hand, bringing me to a stop. He slides his arms around my front and pulls me back against his chest. “I can hear you thinking.”
“Really?”
He laughs, warm breath tickling my neck. I sigh as he groans and kisses the base of my throat. “Not literally, no. But I can tell that you’re all up in your head about this.”
He resumes his kissing, and I tilt my head to the side, giving him room and trying to remember what we were talking about. “Last time we did this . . .” I moan; his mouth is fucking distracting. He nips my skin, derailing my thoughts again.
“You thought I was human?” He offers.
“Yeah.”
“And you’re wondering if it’ll be different?”
There’s an edge to his voice and his hands tense on my stomach.
I spin round in his grip, holding his jaw in my hands this time. “Things will definitely be different this time, because you’re going to fuck me.” His eyes darken, and a shiver races down my spine. “I’m wondering if you’ll be different. If you held anything back last time.”
“Maybe a little.” His wicked grin makes my heart stop because his teeth are way sharper than they should be. He has fangs.
I move without thinking, reaching up to touch one. “Thought you were a wolf, not a vampire.”
His breath catches.
“Are they sensitive?” I stroke my thumb back and forth and he shudders.
“Little bit.”
I imagine them on my skin . . . in my skin. Heat pools in my belly, hot and demanding. “You want to bite me?”
His grip on my waist tightens, the pinprick of nails through my clothes. “You have no fucking idea.”
Oh, I think I do. It’s written all over his face. In the lines of his body.
And I want it too.
He closes his eyes and inhales, long and deep. When he looks at me again, his pupils are blown wide.
I think back to some of the things Morgan told me and a blush steals over my cheeks. “You can smell that?”
“Yeah.”
I’m both embarrassed by that and insanely curious. “What’s it like?”
He backs me into my bedroom, eyes never leaving mine. “Amazing. Addictive. Like you, but a thousand times more potent. It’s so strong right now, it’s taking all my control not to rip your clothes off and fuck you against this wall.”
He spins us and shoves me back against my bedroom wall.
Every fucking inch of him presses against me and I am totally on bored with that plan. “Don’t stop on my account.”
“Is that what you want, Ash? You want me to let my wild side out? Show you how a shifter really fucks?”
Oh god. “Yes.” So many yeses. All the yeses.
“You sure? It can get a little . . . rough.” The slow, dirty grind of his hips does absolutely nothing to change my mind. Neither does the scrape of teeth over my collarbone when he ducks his head.
I want rough.
I want wild.
I want him.
“Show me.”
He gives me one last heated look—all dark eyes and feral grin—and then rips my T-shirt open straight down the middle.
With his claws.
I swallow thickly as he scrapes them gently over my bare chest and down towards the top of my sleep pants. He toys with the waistband, claws dragging along my stomach, making it clench. “Ticklish,” I whisper and he laughs.
It’s the best fucking sound.
I look down, watching his hands, mesmerised as his claws slowly slide back into the tips of his fingers like they were never there. “I like them,” I murmur.
His grin is back. “Me too, but I need human hands for this next bit.”
Oh.
I’m not wearing any underwear, so when he slides my bottoms down, my cock springs free. I’m harder than I think I’ve ever been in my life, and then Callum drops to his knees.
He looks up at me, eyes full of filthy promises as he leans forward and takes me into his mouth.
Scratch what I said before. Now I’m harder than I’ve ever been.
His mouth is hot and wet and I’m desperate to grab on to something, so I grip his shoulder with my good hand, cursing this stupid wrist for not letting me cling onto him like I want to.
His hand covers mine as he takes me deep, then slowly slides back off.
He does this again and again until I’m holding onto him in earnest, reciting the most boring lectures from uni that I can remember in an effort not to come too soon.
Then Callum lets out this grumbly moan.