Chapter Twenty-Eight
Caleb
That was close.
I can’t believe I got carried away like that. Almost lost to the dark side, I would have brought shame to my family. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if things had gone any further.
I’m relieved, but my body is frustrated that Tyler showed up when he did. My mind ping-pongs between concern and desire, between a moment longer and . . . Fuck. Just a moment longer.
Caught between Heaven and Hell and I don’t know who I want to receive my soul. Why is the devil so damn tempting?
Tyler has laid out a spread for us. The kind of setup that, if things were different, I’d want to make for Jay. But that’d be suspicious, so I asked Tyler to do it. Per my request, he packed things Jay could eat rather than just a bunch of different meats like we would normally throw in a cooler.
I wish he wasn’t here, and I thought about telling him to scram, but that’d be suspicious. If I had more time with Jay . . . I was so close to being buried in her. And the way her hand gripped my dick with such need . . .
Thinking about Jay, I stare off into space. I’m ready to shift to my mantra to avoid a boner—when I nearly miss my mouth with a carrot.
Whoops.
I glance at Tyler, who’s too busy chowing on beef jerky to notice. Jay averts her eyes, pretending she didn’t see me fail miserably. She can’t hide those dimples as her lips curl into a smile.
Has she always had dimples? How come I haven’t noticed them before?
I’m pulled from my thoughts when Tyler’s stomach gurgles. “Oh . . .” He clutches his stomach.
“You alright there?” I raise a brow at him, leaning back, afraid he’s going to explode.
Tyler pauses like he’s bracing for something. When nothing comes, he drops his hand from his gut and goes back to picking at his food. Nodding, he says, “Yeah, I’m good.”
We carry on, but then his stomach gurgles again, louder this time. Tyler’s hand flies to his gut once more, and his eyes widen. “Oh no. Be right back.” With haste, Tyler scurries into the forest.
I guess his stomach isn’t used to such a balanced meal. Just in case, I push away the bowl he was eating from.
“Anddd another reason I don’t eat meat,” Jay giggles, a sound men would kill for.
A snob would have turned up her nose and tossed her food aside, complaining that my friend just ruined her appetite. At least some of the women I know would have. But Jay does no such thing. Instead, she continues eating, and I’m glad she doesn’t let small things ruin the moment for her.
She’s filling out into a healthier version of herself. With the right nutrients, the color in her complexion is even brighter. I wouldn’t want Tyler’s flatulence to ruin the mood. But with him gone, I have a chance to learn more about her.
“Why did you become a vegetarian?”
“I’ve seen enough blood to last a lifetime. Now that I’m free . . . well”—she pauses—“maybe not free, but you know what I mean. Anyway, it’s a choice now. And I choose not to. That’s also why I don’t hunt.”
She doesn’t hunt? Jeez, could she be any more wrong for me?
As much as I want to be annoyed—she’s a wolf for goddess’s sake—I’m more confused than anything.
Why did our Goddess match us when we are total opposites with nothing in common?
Maybe that’s just it . . . It’s about balance.
Jay doesn’t eat meat, which only can mean more for me.
Actually, that doesn’t sound so bad now that I think about it. I chuckle to myself.
Jay takes a bite of an apple and wipes her mouth on her arm. I hand her a napkin. Whether she chooses to use it or not is up to her. What matters is she is eating.
“Thank you.” She takes it and blushes, dabbing her mouth. “Just to be clear, I don’t judge those who do. It’s just not my preference. And I completely understand its importance in our culture.”
But that doesn’t explain the big question.
“If you don’t like hunting, why did you insist we come?”
Because mate knows we like it.
That can’t be it. There’s gotta be another reason, I tell him.
“Well, you seemed sad.”
See, my wolf gloats.
“Traditions don’t have to die with the person who started them. Not if you don’t want it to.”
She shrugs and reaches for another piece of fruit. “I’m always pretty sad on my birthday. If you can even call it that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Um . . .” She bites her lip, and it almost derails me from seeking answers. “I don’t know when my actual birthday is.”
“I thought you said you were twenty-one?”
“I am.”
Jay’s certainty almost convinces me, but if she were twenty-one, her wolf would sense me. Although, I wouldn’t put it past the Moon Goddess to find a new way to torture me.
“Do you remember that photo you tore up and burned?”
“Mm-hmm.”
How could I forget? Even though I’m guilty, I don’t regret it. I did what I had to. It was old and damaged anyway.
“On the back of it, there was writing.”
I nod.
She pauses when I think she is going to continue. Her mouth forms a hard line, waiting for the pieces to come together. When they do, my eyes widen. “Wait. That photo is the only way you know when your birthday is?”
She nods. “And my name. Well, what I could make out from the back. The writing was smudged, so I still had to get a little creative.”
Thinking back to the picture, it wasn’t even a full name or date. Trying to make sense of it, I ask, “Are you saying you don’t know your actual name or birthday?”
The corner of her mouth turns up into a sad smile. “It is . . . was the only thing I had from before . . . Well, truthfully, it was the only thing I’ve ever owned that was mine first. Everything else—I’m sure this comes to no surprise for you—I’ve had to take.”
I must be the biggest asshole on the planet.
She must sense this because she says, “It’s okay though. I’ve come to own the name Jay. Besides, how many people can say they get to pick their birthday, huh?” She bumps her shoulder into me playfully.
She’s so positive and grateful for literally nothing.
What is considered “nothing” is subjective.
If things were different, Jay would never want for anything again—I’d see to that.
Although, I’m not sure she’d ever ask for any of it.
I imagine I’d have to get good at tracking her patterns to anticipate every want and need.
Kind of like I’m doing now with her food.
“Anyway”—she grabs another piece of fruit—“I guess you could say that’s why I wanted you to celebrate your birthday.
It’s the only happy memory I really have.
Even if I don’t remember it, and it was only ever that birthday that I shared with my parents, it’s still a loss. But it’s a memory I think I enjoyed.”
She pauses with food close to her mouth, then backpedals, stammering. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean that to sound insensitive. I just meant that if it’s this hard on me to have lost something I don’t even remember, I can only imagine how hard it must be for you.”
“I’m a dick.”
Jay snorts, spitting out her food. “Oh goddess, I’m so embarrassed.”
But I find it adorable.
She wipes her mouth with her napkin and strangely enough, I think I miss when she wiped it on her body. I never wanted someone perfect—only perfect for me. Not to mention, I wouldn’t mind if her skin tasted like apples.
My wolf is smug.
Shut up, I tell him. I meant as opposed to her usual dirt taste.
Mm-hmm, sure. If she tasted so bad, why do you keep going back for more?
Before I can counter my wolf, Tyler appears, huffing and buckling his pants. Out of breath, he says, “Rogues! They’re coming!”
I whip my head to Jay. “What did you do?”
At my accusation, her eyes bug.
She points to her chest as she swallows what she can and speeds up her chewing as she responds with a mouthful, “Me? You think I did something?”
My cheekbones twitch, and I cock a brow. I wouldn’t put it past her.
She scoffs, crossing her arms. “How would I have done that?”
I shrug my shoulder. “Pack mindlink.”
She snorts. “Herds don’t have a mindlink.”
Her tone suggests this to be common knowledge, but I had no idea. Wait, why don’t I know? I have tons of opinions about rogues, but what else don’t I know about them? And as a leader, shouldn’t I “know thy enemy”?
A familiar scent I can’t identify fused with the growing stench of rogues tells me there’s no time to think about that now.
I turn toward the smell, staring off into the trees, letting the power of my senses take over.
The tracker in me focuses instantly on the threat.
I detect paws hitting the ground at full speed.
Jay’s heart thumping out of her chest also catches my attention, but it’s not her heart I pick up on. As I listen to the pattern, there’s more than just one rogue.
“Shift!”
Able to pick up on their location, they’re close, but there’s still time to prepare. Tyler shakes off his clothes and throws them on top of a bush.
Jay panics, pleading for me not to harm them. I ignore her cries as I take off my clothes and toss them at her.
Tyler’s grey and white fur sprouts from his skin, thickening until he’s on all four paws, snarling and ready for a fight.
I call my wolf forward and reddish-brown fur ripples from my body. My bones crack and move into place. The transformation is nearly instantaneous and paired with adrenaline, I hardly feel it. I land on four paws.
“Caleb, listen to me. I can talk to them!”
That’s the last thing I want—likely, it’s her they’re coming for. But they won’t take her from me. They’ll have to kill me first.
“Caleb!”
When she thinks I can’t hear her, she touches my fur, and it launches me out of focus.
I whip my head and growl to get back. Her golden orbs flash, and it’s her wolf that urges Jay to listen.
As she does, my wolf stays trained on her until she’s far enough out of harm’s way.
Once my wolf is satisfied with her distance, I concentrate on the threat.
A good alpha assesses the situation and determines next steps.
My father’s voice echoes in my mind.