Chapter Thirty-eight
Caleb
Tyler’s logical response to finding out Jay is my mate echoes in my brain.
It was pleasantly unexpected. After sharing, it was freeing to gain validation.
Free to feel. Or at the very least, free to explore my emotions.
It’s all so complicated, though. After everything I put her through, would she reciprocate any of it? I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.
Yet my gut is telling me she feels it, too. The tension between us is painfully obvious. Every second I’m not touching her is torturous. It takes everything in me not to mount her, not to claim and mark her when every fiber of my being demands it.
For a while, we stare at each other, refusing to bend.
Neither of us can speak any of it into existence.
I shouldn’t reduce it to something as tired as miscommunication when it’s more than two adults refusing to talk for their own reasons.
First, there aren’t the right words to explain what this inexplicably wrong tug between us is.
Second, it’s not what we say but rather what we feel and what is lingering between us is fear.
Regardless, words have not been our love language.
But our actions? They have spoken louder than words ever could.
I take a leap of faith and give myself over to the bond. I reach for her hand, and the sparks tickle my palm as I settle over her skin. And it’s the bravest thing I’ve ever done. Perhaps the only thing I’ve ever done for myself.
Like a dork, I count eight seconds before Jay is unable to stand my touch any longer and shy away from me.
She scrambles out of bed. “I should, uh, probably get dressed.”
Dammit, now I’ve scared her. I try not to crumble under her rejection as it’s my fault she’s skittish in the first place. I clear my throat. “Uh, yeah. Of course.” My eyes don’t leave her as she stands and grabs the clothes, moving to the farthest side of the room to get away from me.
She stares back at me. I try to read what she might be thinking. Did she pull away because she’s repulsed by me? Or is she not repulsed and it’s that being alone is terrifying her just as much as it is me? I have to know.
“Could you?”
“Yes?” I perk up at her voice.
It’s cringe, but I can’t help it. I’m eager to know what’s on her mind.
“Could you, um…”
In my head, I’m a spastic mess, desperate for her attention. Could I? Yes, anything. Everything. I would do anything. If I can, I will. I can’t take the anticipation.
“Turn around, so I can change?”
My hope deflates like a balloon. Definitely not what I was gunning for. Reluctantly, I look away.
A minute and several teeth grindings later trying not to sneak a peek, she speaks, “Alright, you can look now. But– but don’t laugh, okay? I look ridiculous.”
Mate could never, my wolf says.
He’s right. I was trying my hardest not to jump her bones when she was draped in rags. Whatever Taya brought her, I don’t have a prayer. But I make sure to say one anyway before I turn around.
Jay is wearing a faded Mediterranean blue sundress hugging her waist and flares out at the bottom. Although Jay’s legs are much longer than Taya’s, making it ride up shorter on her. Taking my breath away.
Fuuucck me.
“Wow,” I blurt.
My wolf pants.
“Wow?”
Shit. Did I just say that out loud?
My wolf snickers. Yeah, you did!
She makes me nervous. How is it that my mouth could salivate and dry up at the same time?
She asked you a question. Speak! My wolf reminds me.
Right, thanks.
I shake my head and clear my throat. “Er . . . I meant, wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that outfit…”
Great. Now she probably thinks I keep tabs on what Taya’s wearing like some kind of stalker. What a creepy thing to say to someone. I cringe at myself.
We only stalk mate. My wolf doesn’t do any better at coming up with an argument to dig me out of the hole I’ve put us in.
Yeah, I don’t think that’s helping, I tell him.
Confused, he tilts his head. To him, hunting and stalking are completely normal and sane behavior. But to humans, it’s creepy.
Crap. Okay. I can recover from this. Think.
“Sorry, that . . . didn’t come out right.” My words come out broken. “I just meant that seeing that outfit brought up some nostalgia,” I say. “Taya used to wear it a lot,” I add a lie to be more convincing.
“Oh.” Jay examines herself in the mirror and frowns.
Did I say something wrong? Oh, fuck, what’d I say?
With her attention focused elsewhere, I wipe my brow, but my palms are also sweaty, which doesn’t help. I yank my shirt up to wipe my face and hands before she notices, and my wolf seizes the chance to offer advice.
Eh . . . maybe don’t speak, my wolf advises me.
I know. I’m just making things worse.
And I thought I was good at digging holes, he says.
That’s not helpful! I snap back at him.
You’re sweating a lot . . . Mate looks good, doesn’t she? He snickers at me.
Good? She’s fucking beautiful. Mentally, I kick myself. Now why couldn’t I have just said that? Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that outfit, I mock myself. Ugh, idiot!
The way she continues to frown as she scrutinizes herself in the mirror makes no sense to me. What could she possibly be insecure about?
“If I had her curves, I could probably fill it out better,” Jay says. She laughs somberly . “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that someone as pretty as her would be so memorable.”
If only she knew how long I’ve been trying to forget her . . . and failing. But Jay’s problem is selective blindness. She doesn’t see what I see. It kills me that her mind could convince her to think she’s anything less than downright breathtaking. Taya is pretty, but Jay? Jay is…
“You’re perfect,” I breathe.
As soon as I say the words, my wolf’s jaw drops.
Did I really just say that?
My first instinct is to cower and bury myself alive in whatever hole I dug earlier, but I decide against it. I meant what I said, and whether she receives it or not, doesn’t make it any less true. My pride is not more important than her knowing the truth.
Her eyes slowly meet mine in the mirror.
I think she wants to believe me, but the demons in her brain must take over because she snorts and shakes her head.
“Yeah, right. I don’t think your definition of perfectionism includes scars and a tattoo that says murderer.
Maybe if I didn’t have them, I could believe you. ”
I wouldn’t change anything about her. She still takes my breath away, but I hate the way she looks at herself. If I could help her see what I see—enough to feel even a little better—I’d do it without question.
“I . . . might know of someone who can help.”
She stops criticizing herself in the mirror long enough to spin around and look at me. Eager, she asks, “You do?”
“If this is what you really want.”
“You’d do that, for me?”
I’d do anything for her. But I can’t say that either so instead, I say, “Come on. Let’s go.”
***
“You know, the forest is actually kind of serene when no one is trying to leave you for dead.” Jay says.
I appreciate her trying to lighten the mood and ease any tension, but this isn’t something I’ll ever be able to laugh about.
“That’ll never happen again. I can promise you that.”
She glances over her shoulder, then faces forward again. “I . . . believe you.”
And her belief in me has my wolf wagging its tail. It’s nice to have someone believe in me.
I hate what my pack did to her. It hurts my wolf. No one deserves that, especially Jay.
It hurts you, too.
No, it doesn’t, I respond to my wolf.
Whatever you say, Sweaty Eddy.
I shoo my wolf to the back of my mind.
Both of us are uneasy being back in these woods, and I’m sure she is too. It’s probably what caused her to make such a joke. We’ve walked in silence, with Jay in front, so I can guard her from harm.
From the sight of her hips swaying side to side, it has got to be both my best and worst idea yet.
She is baiting me. It’s the perfect setup.
We’re in a forest, alone, with no one else around.
She’s vulnerable. While almost fully healed, she’s still recovering from her injury.
No one could stop me out here, and her wolf wouldn’t want to.
I could have her. Right here. Right now. As rough as I want to.
I may be her predator in every way, but the way she draws me in with each move, I’m not so sure anymore. And if I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing anything under that dress.
Holy shit, she’s killing me.
I adjust myself in my shorts. I’m definitely the prey in this instance. Nothing is succeeding at distracting me. Then I couldn’t watch her to make sure she’s safe. I’m trapped.
Probably sensing my eyes on her, Jay turns and catches me checking her out. The sun creates a golden outline around her hair, and it’s like I’m watching her in slow motion. Her layered raven hair frames her face, freckles scatter across her tanned skin and—my favorite—dimples indent her backside.
Beautiful.
Jay looks down, and I’m thinking she can see my boner straining in my shorts.
Though I don’t even bother hiding it. She is going to be horrified when she sees it.
But she scans up my body, and her eyes meet mine again.
She seems shy, flattered maybe. But not horrified by the sight. Instead, she smiles.
I bite my lip and moan a soft whimper.
One look, and I’m hit with her arrow. And that is power, her power. And to think when I’m finally caught in her trap that she’d have mercy.
No.
No, no. This was only just the beginning. Her honey scent drifts on the breeze, already driving me mad with lust, and her arousal only sharpens the deadly mix.
Mate smells delicious.
I know. It’s torture. I need some distance. Fast. I’ll have her speed up.
I clear my throat, and my voice cracks like I’m a teenager again. “Walk-walk a little faster, Jay.” I can’t keep my composure much longer.
Jay picks up the pace, and the distance doesn’t help as I now have an urge to chase her.
Prey. My wolf howls and crouches down, ready to pounce.
No, no, no, stay.
“Uh . . . On second thought, walk slower.”
She does. And like a T-rex who can’t see its next meal when it’s no longer moving, my wolf snaps out of it. Now that she’s no longer speed walking, he stops crouching.
I sigh, relieved. Although I don’t know if relief is the right word. I can still smell her, but I trust myself to withstand her tricks more than my wolf.
I think.
My saving grace in the form of Medein’s gothic and earthy cottage comes into view. We’re close enough to see there’s an end in sight. “Thank Goddess, we’re finally here.”
Jay looks at me funny.
“In one piece,” I add quickly.
My quick thinking works as she nods, buying my attempt at recovery.
Medein’s home sits deep in the forest, its intricate architecture blending with nature as trees and foliage weave through its structure.
The subtle details, such as the hand-crafted lopsided windows and ornate carvings, add perfection to its imperfections.
The pointed roofs blanketed with fallen leaves give off magical enchantment with a long, ancient history waiting to be discovered.
“Come on, it’s not much farther.”
We make our way up the cobblestone path and moss-covered steps when a vibration of the ground halts us from going further.
Jay’s eyes widen in horror, her thumps wild loud. “What is that?”
Whatever it is, it’s not an earthquake. But something is coming. I listen closer as I pinpoint what is causing the ground to shake. My eyes bug out of my head as I say, “Run.”