Page 18 of Wolf's Providence

I saw a flash of something—pity probably—crossing his face. “Maybe he’s struggling exactly as you are, and let’s not forget, he has his demons. I don’t know what he’s done, but I don’t think it would have been easy. He may be struggling as much as you are. Maybe sharing his blood took its toll.”

“He doesn’t need to deal with it alone.”

“He broke pack law,” Doc reminded me. “One, you’re human, you shouldn’t know anything about us. Two, even if you weren’t human, blood sharing…it’s not common amongst pack.”

“Why?”

“You share blood with any of your past boyfriends?”

“Ewww, no!”

“Then why would we?” Doc’s grin at my assumption was wide. “We’re shifters, we’re not debased animals.”

My cheeks burned at the reprimand. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You reminded me that you are clueless about our world.” Doc looked at his hands, which were linked together on his lap. “Which makes it all the more dangerous.”

“Are we snowed in?” I asked suddenly. “Am I here for the whole of winter?”

Doc looked up at me. He looked like I wasn’t going to enjoy what he said next. “It’s not fully winter yet.”

“Right.” My eye roll told him what I thought of that comment. “Can I get down?”

“If you leave within the next couple of weeks.”

“And I get to leave?” I asked hesitantly. “With everything that’s happening?”

“The shaman has been, and he told Cannon he will tell him what he learns.” Doc stood, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot, Willow. More than most, and that’s before Caleb struck you. You need time to heal. You’re getting stronger every day, but you still need time. Rest.”

I nodded, knowing everything he said was true, but healing felt impossible when everything inside me was a tangled mess of confusion and fear.

After Doc left, I got back up, and after retrieving a sketch pad, I settled back against the pillows. The dull ache in my abdomen throbbed steadily, reminding me of what had happened. The itch under my skin persisted, pulsing faintly, but it was low, as if he was resting.

The thought made me pause. Was Caleb sleeping? Was that why it was just a slow gentle beat? The idea that I may know more than just beingawareof him startled me.

What else would we be able to feel? How deep did it run? Would I know what he was thinking? Because for someone like Caleb, knowing what went on in his head would be a welcome perk.

Groaning loudly in frustration, I opened my sketchbook. Then I had to get up and get my pencils. When I was back in bed, I was feeling less benevolent towards the man who was linked to me.

If he were here, we could learn together. If this was something I had to live with, for therest of my life, I wanted toknowmore. Caleb didn’t have the right to take that off me by staying away. He didn’t have the right to make all my decisions and choose howIlived my life.

I knew he would be feeling guilty for what he did. I knew he would be punishing himself more than anyone else could, and I knew he was too thickheaded to listen to anyone else about it.

And there was little I could do about it except tell him that I didn’t blame him. If he ever deigned to show up again.

I hadn’t lied. Not the night it happened, not the times Cannon or Doc had raised it. I didnotblame Caleb for what happened to me on that mountain.

But I may never forgive him for leaving me behind.

SIX

Willow

I satin the chair beside the bed. The snow was so heavy outside that I no longer looked up at the small window. Soft electric light filled the room. I’d been surprised to find the lights were on a dimmer switch, but it was a happy surprise. My sketchbook was on my legs while I rubbed a hand across my abdomen.

The phantom aches still lingered, and I wondered how long it would be before my brain accepted the fact I was no longer injured. I’d been a lot more stable on my feet today. I’d had another shower, even washed my hair, and was now in fresh jammies. I kept glancing at the door, anticipating the arrival of my breakfast. Today was the first time I could say that I had an appetite.

A quiet knock at the door had me sitting up in the chair, my notebook being put on the bed in eager anticipation of being fed. Calling out an invitation to come in, I didn’t mask my surprise when the shaman entered.

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