Chapter Forty-One
Jay
Iwake gently to the sun beaming through the big windows and birds singing.
My eyes flutter open. I’m in Caleb’s bed, his arms wrapped around me. I lift my chin to look at him above me. He’s still asleep, but at my movement, he wakes, too.
With a gruff voice he says, “Hey.” He kisses the top of my head. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I say, nuzzling into his chest.
Last night was easily the best of my life. Not that the competition was ever strong to begin with, but even if it was, this one would take the cake.
He stretches with me still on top of him, making that strained noise one does.
“How late did we stay up?” I ask.
“Late. What time is it?”
“I have no idea.”
It’s then Caleb’s eyes glaze over, so he’s speaking to someone.
“Who is it?” I roll over.
Caleb springs up and shuffles for his clothes and hands me mine. “Get dressed. Quickly.”
“What? What’s going on?” I fumble with my dress that’s inside out. Finally getting it, I pull it over my head and let it fall on my body.
“We have to get to the Hunter’s Quarters. I’m late for training, and now the king is looking for me to be his sparring dummy.”
“Don’t you mean partner?”
He shoots me a look. “I wish.”
“What’s the Hunter’s Quarters?”
“I’ll explain along the way. Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and leads the way to Bloodhound’s Hunter’s Quarters. Once there, Caleb faces me and places his palms on my shoulders. “Alright, are you going to be okay here while I train?”
Caleb’s tan body is glistening from the sweat. I hadn’t had much of a chance to look at it on the way here with him leading the way.
When you’re done drooling, he asked you a question, my wolf snaps at me.
“Oh . . . uh, yes. Of course. But uh . . .” I peer over Caleb’s shoulder, taking in the training happening around us.
There are people sparring . . . and not very well.
The king is barking at someone who complained it’s too hot out to train.
Sam is partnered with the king and although Sam isn’t complaining, he winces every time King Dax demonstrates an action on him.
I can only imagine the red under his eye has something to do with it.
Caleb opens his mouth like he’s about to say something but freezes when the king calls after him. “Mutt!”
Caleb shuts his eyes tight, wincing. When he exhales, he plasters the most pleasant customer service face I’ve ever seen before turning to face the king. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Where were you?”
Caleb side eyes me, smirking.
I shoot him a warning look. Don’t you dare.
He winks at me, then says to the king, “There were important matters that needed my attention.” Caleb’s heated gaze travels over my body.
My cheeks redden.
“Well, you’re late. Which makes you my demo partner for today,” His Majesty says.
On his knees, and in dramatic fashion, Sam presses his hands together in prayer and speaks to the sky. “Oh, thank you, Goddess. Finally, anyone else but me!”
His Majesty grins sadistically and crooks a finger at Caleb. “Let’s spar.”
Caleb curses under his breath but jogs over reluctantly.
Taya is sitting nearby in a lawn chair on a grassy slope that doubles as a border for the training arena. There’s another chair next to her.
She hands me a beer, opening it with one hand.
“Thank you, but I don’t really drink.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. Did you want something else?” She puts the drink back in the cooler.
Before I can say no thank you, she grabs her purse, plops it onto her lap and sifts through it.
She’s definitely the mom of her friend group.
“Let’s see, I’ve got . . .” She pulls out one airplane-sized bottle after another as she lists them. “Tequila, whiskey, vodka . . .” She whips out a tampon and giggles. “A tampon.” Then she shoves it back in her purse. “Take your pick!”
“That’s so kind. I’m good, though. Do you mind if I hang out with you while the boys train?”
“Not at all!” She moves the cooler from the chair beside her to allow me a place to sit. “Have a seat. We can people watch together.”
What?
“People watch?”
“We just sit and observe. Well sometimes we judge. Recently, I was watching Sam be a human punching bag for Dax. Every now and then he’ll look over at me and plead for me to save him. When he does, I drink.”
I drop into the lawn chair next to Taya.
In exaggeration, Sam crawls in our direction from the arena with his head hung, “Help me.”
“Oh dear goddess,” she says, cupping a hand around her mouth. “You’re being dramatic!”
I laugh. “Sam is so funny.”
“No, he thinks he’s funny.”
I’m sure she laughs every day at least once. They seem to have that kind of relationship.
Sam grips the lawn chair’s metal legs like a life force. He gasps for air, inhaling deeply. “Water!” Another deep breath. “Water!”
Taya rolls her eyes, but her grin tells me she still finds him amusing.
Yeah. At least once. They’re so funny together. Couple goals.
She hands him water as he lays on the ground. “Don’t drink it all.”
“Don’t worry, if we run out, I’ve got something else to quench your thirst.” He winks at her.
Taya kicks him with her foot playfully.
He snickers and moves out of the way. “Oh, Oh! Don’t make me laugh. It hurts!”
“He went pretty hard out there on you, didn’t he?”
“Always. But not as hard as he’ll be with Caleb.”
All three of us peer over to find Caleb taking a kick to the gut, knocking the wind out of him.
In unison, Taya and I say, “Ooh.”
That hurt me from over here.
“I want you to learn from your father’s mistakes,” King Dax says. He punches Caleb in the gut, the same spot he kicked. “It’s important that I remind you what it feels like to get your ass handed to you, so that you don’t let it happen again.”
Caleb grunts from the blow. And my wolf and I have to stop ourselves from stepping in.
“My father only wanted to keep the peace,” Caleb says through breaths.
“Your father,” he says, “was neglectful of his people. It was his responsibility to prepare everyone with the tools to defend and protect themselves while there’s a goddamn war happening outside these walls.”
At the insult to his father, Caleb growls and charges.
But His Majesty is ready for him. They lock up together, growling in each other’s face as the king’s eyes glow maroon into Caleb’s gold.
“My father ensured I was prepared to protect my people.” Caleb shoves the king with all his might, and he stumbles back, recovering quickly.
The king picks Caleb up by his throat and carries him backward until he slams him into a tree.
I shoot up from my seat, and my hand flies to cover my mouth as I gasp. I take a step forward, ready to help.
His Majesty turns his head slightly at my movement.
My wolf stops me. Wait. Don’t. We can’t challenge the king.
We can’t just do nothing. He’s hurting Caleb!
If you step in now, it’ll be seen as a challenge to his position, and we’ll be forced to fight him, she says.
I don’t care. He needs me.
She shakes her head. You’d be emasculating him.
What? I scoff. Don’t be ridiculous. Caleb’s not like that.
Eyes shut tight, Caleb strains in His Majesty’s grasp.
I take another step forward. This time, King Dax peers over his shoulder completely to look back at me. He growls in warning.
I’m not afraid. I take another step, and his eyes glow a deep, threatening maroon.
He rams Caleb into the tree again, and my lip twitches.
Maybe not to him, but to everyone else. Then everything he’s done to repair what we broke won’t be taken seriously.
That stops me. Trusting her judgment, I reluctantly sit. The king grunts in approval at my decision and reverts his focus back to the only man I ever truly cared for.
“It is both neglectful and na?ve to have your son be solely responsible for physically protecting the lives of an entire pack he doesn’t lead. That doesn’t even make sense,” he spits.
Caleb kicks his feet and claws at the king’s grip around his throat, choking and desperate for air. But Caleb’s golden eyes show he and his wolf aren’t giving up, and that’s something I love about him.
See? My wolf says. He’s got this.
I beam with pride.
“I’ve told you before that your father was a fair leader but a fierce one—a good one—he was not. I’m here to make sure you don’t make the same mistakes.”
Caleb chokes.
“You are going to be Bloodhound’s alpha. Any pack member’s death is now on your hands.” He drops Caleb, who slumps, landing on his feet.
He clutches his throat, gasping for air.
The king turns and walks away, seemingly done with his lesson, but Caleb growls and charges the king, tackling him. He’s face-to-face mounted on him when he says, “I am not my father.”
With a huff, Caleb leaves.
I stand by in case the king decides to retaliate.
He doesn’t. Instead, he sits up, glancing over his shoulder, shaking his head as he hoists himself off the ground. When he stands, he brushes his hands together. With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, he nods slowly as if he’s impressed by Caleb’s show of force.
“Why does he give Caleb such a hard time?” I turn to Sam, who I imagine knows the king best. I find Sam still slumped, with Taya rubbing the back of his neck.
It seems she’s given him a snack.
“Dax is the best trainer there is. He can see the intentions of others. It makes him a formidable opponent. It also makes him good at figuring out what people need and what motivates them,” Sam says.
Apparently, the way Caleb learns is through insults and a beat down. Huh. Noted.
“It also doesn’t help that Caleb and Dax’s mate used to hook up. Or that Dax found Caleb about to mark her,” Taya says.
“Twice,” Sam adds.
“Oh, yeah—Dax almost killed him that time,” Taya says.
Sam raises an eyebrow and exhales. “Yeah, that was awesome.”
Taya and I give Sam a confused look.
Sam looks between us and hides his grin. “I mean . . . bad,” Sam says unconvincingly.
I shake my head. I think a moment but ultimately can’t resist asking, “When you say, hooked up, do you mean . . . ?”
“Oh, yeah. They fucked,” Sam answers.