Page 51 of Wolf's Fate

“Ned got to him?” I was confused. Why would they take Doc and not take me?

“Sure.”

It was his tone of voice, the fact he looked away from me when he said it. “You have no idea, do you?” I accused him.

Caleb met my look, and instead of answering, he picked up the cup of water. “Drink. You’re making my throat dry with how hoarse you sound.”

I didn’t get the chance to tell him it was because I had a breathing tube down my throat—he was already placing the straw between my lips. I sucked water, maintaining eye contact,so I saw his eyes dip to my mouth. His eyes flared, and he quickly looked away.

What the heck wasthat?

Pulling my head back, I wiped my mouth with a shaky hand. “Do you know where Doc is? Ned?”

“They’re not here,” he told me, too casually. “I assume that’s a good thing.”

“You assume?” I didn’t bother hiding my irritation. “How can you not care?”

His look turned hard. “I killed two shifters to get to you,” he told me bluntly. “Two who I assume were the reason your truck rolled to start with. I carried you back to the road, bleeding and almost dead, and then I rode with you here. I haven’t left your side, so I don’t know where they are. All I cared about was thatyoulived. Now that I know you will, I can find out what happened to them. Happy?”

I was speechless. Caleb’s matter-of-fact way of delivering harsh truths was something that always took a moment to process. It had been a while since I’d last seen him, and I’d almost forgotten how incredibly jarring his bluntness could be. He was such a strange contradiction—unapologetically honest yet cloaked in a veil of deception that left you unsure of what to believe. I’d never met anyone like him. How could he be so forthright, but you still felt like he was hiding something?

“What? Nothing to say?” His tone was mocking, and I reached out to punch him for it. That was about as effective as a feather hitting a wall.

“You’re still a contrary A-hole then?” I grumbled as he looked at me in amusement.

“What you see is what you get.”

“Is it though?” I challenged him. “I don’t think it is. I never know what to expect from you,” I told him truthfully. With a sigh, I dropped my head back against the pillows. “I’m exhausted,” I admitted. “And I hurt, and shouldn’t they be giving me, like, nice lovely drugs that make me not hurt?”

Caleb broke eye contact with me, his eyes on the door instead. “I told them you were anti-pain medication.”

I knew I was gaping at him. “Why?” My mouth opened and closed a few times in disbelief. “I was in a truck that rolled overa lot. I was pretty much the human equivalent of a cat in a washing machine. Why wouldn’t you let me get drugs?”

“Painkillers,” he corrected absently, his voice lacking any warmth. His deep brown eyes, so rich and delicious, were closed off and unyielding. I hated that look—the way it had become so familiar, like a wall I could never break through. “I needed you coherent when you woke up,” he continued brusquely. “I need you awake and alert because I can’t be here with you twenty-four seven.”

The last part caught my attention first. “What? Why? Youjustsaid you told them I was your wife for that very reason!” My voice was sharper than I wanted it to be, but the panic I was feeling at his statement was real. The idea that he would leave me now, of all times, was making my heart pound. “Tell me you aren’t leaving?”

The unspokenagainlingered between us like a weight, pulling the air tight between us.

His jaw clenched, his gaze shifting away from mine for a moment, betraying an emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Guilt? Weariness? Frustration? With Caleb, it was impossible totell.

“I have to leave,” he told me, the words labored as if saying them was against his will. “Things are happening, things I need to understand.”

My heart was sinking with every word that he spoke, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “And what about me? What if they come for me again?”

His eyes flicked back to mine, softer now, still guarded but gentler. “Nothing will happen to you again. I won’t be far.” He reached out, his hand hovering in the space between us before he pulled it back to his side. “Blackridge Peak Pack will be close. Cannon won’t be far away.”

“You don’t know that,” I protested. “You don’t even know where he is.”

Caleb didn’t answer that, brushing it off as he spoke. “You’ll be safe, Willow.”

Safe. The word was losing any connotation of what it was supposed to mean. It felt hollow now. An empty promise spoken to keep me grounded and stop me from spiraling, no doubt.

“You keep saying that,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest, an act more of self-defense than defiance. “But it doesn’t feel like I am. It hasn’t for a long time, not since you left.”

Caleb was silent and I was sure that may have been worse than arguing. It was like he was agreeing with me without saying the words.

“They broke into my store,” I told him, watching him closely. “And my home, Caleb. Myhome.”