Page 64 of Wolf's Providence

“What was her name?” I asked, looking between the drawing and at him.

“Callie,” he murmured, his eyes filled with pain. “She was three when they murdered her.”

“Caleb…” Pressing my head into his pec, I tried to hold back the tears. “I’m so sorry.”

I felt his lips press against my hair. “Can I keep this one?” His voice was thick with emotion, and I could only nod because I knew I was going to sob if I tried to speak.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, both of us grappling with emotions that I was sure were vastly different from each other.

Eventually, I stepped back, and when I looked up at him, he was waiting, his eyes searching mine, catching the question I hadn’t dared ask yet.

“Willow…”

“You look so free here.” I gestured to the drawing of his pack. “So at ease.” I swallowed hard. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that.”

Caleb let out a slow breath, his hand finding mine, tugging me closer. “My past was…a different time. Who I am in that drawing, I can’t go back to that, not even if I wanted to.”

“Maybe,” I conceded, biting my lip. “But can you say you’ll find that here, outside of your world, where you can be free? Maybe there’s something left for you on Shadowridge Peak.”

Caleb’s gaze flickered, something vulnerable flashing across his face. “You want me to leave?”

“No, I didn’t say that. But…I don’t want to be the reason you feel…I don’t know…trapped?” My voice was barely above a whisper. I picked up the third sketch, the one where he was an alpha of a pack. “I don’t want to keep you from something you might still need.”

His grip tightened on my hand, his expression hardening. “Willow, you don’t hold me back. No matter what my past held, it doesn’t change what I want now, and I wantyou.”

“Really?”

He smiled softly, brushing a thumb over my knuckles. “I want you.” Dipping his head, he brushed a kiss over my lips. “I want to sleep beside you every night. I want to wake up beside you every morning.”

He kissed me again, his mouth moving over mine with a possessiveness I loved, and as the tension slipped away, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we would find a way to make it work.

The next morning,a sliver of sunlight crept through my curtains, illuminating the room in a warm glow. I blinked sleepily, rolling over to find the space next to me empty, the sheets cool. I sat up, rubbing my eyes as memories of yesterday settled in. Caleb and I had bared pieces of ourselves yesterday morning, maybe things we’d been holding back, but I had felt lighter.

I’d gone to work in the early afternoon and spent the day with Lorna, picking up on work I’d missed. She’d set up an inventory of work from local artists that she wanted me to consider hanging in the gallery. It had become apparent to me she had her own opinion, and after a few conversations, I’d finally just made her tell me her thoughts.

She’d been a student and, let’s be honest, a very basic artist, but she had a good eye, and she knew what fit in the gallery. She knew what complemented my style, and I genuinely enjoyed working with her.

Caleb had been in and out during the afternoon, never straying far but never permanent, and I knew Lorna was still someone he wasn’t wholly comfortable around.

We’d enjoyed a quiet dinner, then I went into my studio and Caleb went out to “stretch his legs.” When he came back, we’d had an early night.

It was a good day.

Now I was awake, a new day, and my bed was empty. Part of me wondered if I’d said too much, voiced doubts he didn’t need to hear. But…I also felt a satisfaction that it was out there, and he’d listened to what I was trying to say.

Pulling on a sweater and a pair of sleep shorts, I left my bedroom, the scent of coffee guiding me to the kitchen.

Caleb was standing by the window, a mug in his hand, looking out the window to the trees like he was watching something far away. He didn’t speak when I walked in, but his head tilted slightly, acknowledging my presence. As I walked up to him, he wordlessly pulled me into his side, wrapping an arm around me, as if he’d been holding me like this every morning for years.

Putting his cup down, he reached over and placed a steaming mug in front of me. “Morning. I heard you were awake.”

“Thanks.” I took a sip, knowing that it would be made perfectly. Caleb was thorough in everything he did. I let the warmth settle me, and we stood in silence for a moment before I glanced at him, trying to read his mood. I wasn’t sure why he looked so pensive this morning.

Caleb sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about what Raymond Summers said,” he began, his gaze shifting to look down at me. “I meant everything I said yesterday, but…” His gaze flicked back to the trees, searching for the words. “And you’re drawing again. I can’t stop thinking this is Luna’s doing.”

I frowned, instantly on guard. “You think your Goddess is trying to keep us apart?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But the shaman and, I think, even Cannon think she has more of a hand in everything. I don’t thinkit’s a stretch to say she influences your drawings,” he said softly. “And if that’s what we accept, then what is she trying to tell us by showing my past or…”

---