Chapter 22 Caleb
CALEB
The moon lights up the midnight sky—dark yet starless.
I glance around at the trees gently blowing in the chilling breeze. The sound of branches and leaves crunching echoes in my ears. I whip my head to the sound, only for it to change direction. I exhale a breath through my nose at the shudder that rushes down my spine.
When I turn around again, I spot a figure standing in the distance, their back facing me. I frown as I inch closer, recognising those blond curls from anywhere. His entire body is shaking, and I pause a few meters away.
“Evan?”
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The noise buzzes around my head. So loud. So aggressive.
I flick my gaze to his arms, resting by his sides.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Evan?” I repeat his name as my heart thumps.
A low cry bursts through the forest. It’s filled with pain and terror. I head straight towards him, but every step feels like I’m stuck in thick mud. My legs drag, and I grit my teeth, trying my hardest to reach him.
After a few moments, Evan turns to face me. Tears stain his cheeks as he cries. It’s an agony I never knew I could feel.
My eyes move from his face to his arms, seeing dark liquid pool around his wrists. That’s when I see blood dripping over his palms and onto the ground beside him.
Cuts. So many cuts. All down his forearms.
“Pups,” I rasp in despair. “What have you done?”
“I-I can’t make them stop,” he chokes out hauntingly.
I’m fighting against my strength to get to him, but I can’t move. He’s getting further and further away. Panic rips through me as I reach for him, but I’m still so far.
“Evan, come here, please,” I murmur desperately.
His head shakes. “Better off dead.”
My forehead pinches, and it feels like I’ve been stabbed a thousand times over.
“Why did you do this? Let me see. Let me help you.”
“C-can’t.” He trembles before his knees give out, and he hits the floor.
“Evan!”
His eyes close, blood smeared all over his T-shirt. A growl bellows from my chest as I attempt to rip my legs from the mud, fighting to get to him, but I can’t. Why can’t I reach him?
The stench of blood filters through my nose. His lifeless body lies there.
“Evan!”
I jolt between the sheets, my body flying upwards as I catch my breath. My skin is coated in a thick layer of sweat, to the point that the duvet and pillow are soaked right through.
My eyes dart down to Evan as he lies beside me. He’s curled up in a ball with his eyes firmly closed. I watch his chest to find it rising and falling softly.
I’m still shaking from how real the dream felt. My stomach is in pieces at the images of his blood, his tears, his devastation. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to control my erratic heartbeat. My lip worms its way between my teeth as I gnaw at the skin helplessly.
The second my eyes snag on his wrist that lies flat on the bed, the button having fallen undone during sleep. I suck in a breath and raise my fingers before subtly flicking open the material. I shudder at the sight before me.
White scars. Red scars. Healing scars.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath and turn to swing my legs over the edge of the bed.
My head falls into my hands.
No. No. No.
Sometimes, my dreams are just dreams. Other times, they are precognitive. And if I don’t do something, they can become a reality. It’s been a curse since I was born.
The first few times, I thought it was a coincidence. But when it started happening a little too often, I knew my dreams were predicting the future. That’s if I don’t do something to stop it first.
Images of my brother’s body drowning float through my mind—a dream I cannot shake. Then it’s filled with blood once more. Evan’s blood.
My stomach churns, and I stand abruptly before stumbling towards the bathroom. The second I see the toilet, I’m brought to my knees, and I empty my insides into the bowl. I retch and retch until my stomach gargles.
My ass hits the floor, and I drag my hand over my head, unable to think clearly. I have to stop it. I have to do something so I never have to see it in real life.
After brushing my teeth with the disposable brush and glancing over my face, other than the horrific dream, I had a good night's sleep—one of the best I’ve had in years. There’s no need to explain why, especially when my wolf is the most settled he’s ever been.
When I make it back to the bedroom, Evan is still fast asleep.
I study him for a long moment. The scent of fresh cotton and sweet cherries has been consuming me all night.
It’s refreshing to be alone with him, to enjoy it in private when I usually have to pretend it doesn't affect me. And I don’t want to pretend anymore.
His safety is my priority. It has been from the start.
Ruffling sheets have my eyes drawing up instantly. Evan stretches out in the bed as his eyes crack open, flashing me his beautiful blue eyes. Mesmerising, really. They’re pale and light, but filled with a deep sadness I haven’t been able to ignore since the moment we met.
He glances at me and rubs his forehead. “Hey,” he rasps as he pushes back into the headboard. “Everything okay?”
No. Everything is far from okay, I heave in my head.
Words fail me. I have no idea what to say.
Evan’s brows dip as I remain silent. His eyes flick over me as I stand at the foot of the bed, still half naked and wracked to the bone.
“Uh…” he murmurs with hurt flashing across his face. “Maybe I should go.”
I watch as he hops off the bed and quickly throws on his trousers.
“Don’t,” I say as I shake my head.
He lifts his head and stares at me cautiously. “What’s wrong?”
I drag my hand over my face before recovering. I walk towards him as his eyes follow me. I reach out to take his waist in my hands before slowly pushing him back down onto the bed so he’s sitting. My knees hit the floor as I take his fingers in mine.
There’s no easy way to put it. So I just say it. It’s not something I can ignore.
“I know you’re hurting yourself.”
Evan blinks before snatching his hands from mine and clutching his wrists to his chest. “What?”
Then he drops his hands immediately, gripping the sleeve with his fingers.
“I saw them,” I whisper as I stare up at him. “This morning.”
His eyes shimmer, building with tears, and it feels like my heart is being squeezed. “It’s nothing,” he says before swallowing.
“If you’re hurting yourself, then it’s definitely not nothing. Are you getting help?”
He scoffs and looks away. “I’m fine.”
“Evan,” I say his name with a rasp. “I’m not asking for you to tell me everything; I just want to make sure you don’t do it again.”
A little sniffle echoes through my ears. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I nod and lick along my bottom lip. “Okay,” I say, despite wanting to demand answers. That’s not how I’ll make him feel safe.
And I’m not one to talk. When anyone brings up my father, I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than talk about the pain and torture he’s put me through.
I raise my hand and clutch his face. My thumb swipes over his cheek softly, and I pray those tears in his eyes don’t start to fall.
“I’m not entitled to know anything,” I whisper. “But if you want to talk about it with me, I’ll be here to listen. I know trust is earned, and I’m willing to put in the work. No matter how long it takes.”
Evan’s chest quivers as he stares at me, freckles dancing over his nose. I lean forward and wrap him up in my arms because I don’t know what else to say. I’m not good at comforting people. I'm always afraid I’ll say the wrong thing.
But as soon as I hear him take a breath, he buries his face in my neck. His hands press against my bare skin, and I hold him as his tears stain my collarbones.
It’s everything I didn’t know I needed—to just fucking hold him.
He draws himself away from me and wipes his face. “Does he know we’re here?” he asks, changing the subject.
I presume he’s talking about my father, and I shake my head. “I wouldn’t do something so reckless. He has no idea.”
“I’m not just your secret, am I?”
The fear that clouds his eyes is imminent.
“No,” I say as I stroke his cheek. “You’re my mate, the only person in this world I’m meant to protect.”
His lips part slowly. I take in his handsome face for a few more moments, knowing that when we leave this room, I’ll be back to reality. Yet I can’t grasp the seconds fast enough.
But I know I can’t let my father dictate my life forever. Happiness has never been an objective.
Now I’m eager to change that.
For him.
For us.