Page 26 of Call of A Eagle

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

I didn’t know anything about the old woman. In fact, I’d never even met her.

“Why are you looking for her?” I asked, not understanding why he was so desperate to find her.

“To see if she can clear Xander of Lucius’s spirit, if he’s truly possessed, which I believe he is and so do the others.”

I stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Possessions. Evil spirits. It was all too much.

“When Alma wakes, I’d like to ask her about Maribel,” Waylen said, sounding as though he was asking for my permission.

“Of course. While she rests, let me finish cleaning you up,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.

I reached for the poultice, applying it gently to Waylen’s wounds, my fingers brushing over his skin with care. He winced as I tended to the deepest gash, but he stayed still, jaw tight.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice low.

I paused, glancing at him. “You didn’t cause Xander’s actions.”

He shook his head, his eyes dark with something deeper. “It’s not just that. There’s more I haven’t told you.”

I swallowed, sensing where this was headed. “What was with the waitress?” I asked softly, though my heart was pounding.

Waylen’s shoulders tensed, his eyes flicking to mine before he looked away. “Mia.” He sighed heavily, as if a weight had been pressing on his chest for a while. “My eagle attacked her. Back when I was under Lucius’s control.”

I felt my chest tighten, the words cutting through the air between us. “Your eagle attacked her?” I echoed, struggling to process it.

“She was still human then. Lucius forced me to do it. It was part of an attack on the Ashen Tribe.” His voice was rough with guilt. It tore at the edges of my heart. “I didn’t have control over my eagle—over myself—but that doesn’t change the fact that I nearly killed her.”

My stomach twisted at the thought, but I kept my voice steady. “She’s no longer human. I picked up on her being a shifter while we were at the diner.”

“I know.” His head dipped. “I guess that’s how she survived what my eagle and I did.”

“She doesn’t know it was you though, does she? She doesn’t know you were the eagle.”

He shook his head, his expression heavy with remorse. “No. And I pray she never does. Every time I see her, the guilt comes rushing back. I could’ve taken her life that day.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. Thankfully.”

“That’s why you tip her so well,” I said, piecing it together.

A small, guilty grin tugged at his lips. “Guilty conscience.”

Despite the seriousness of the moment, I felt a flicker of warmth. He was trying to make amends in his own way, even if she never knew.

“I’ll never be able to give her enough money for what I did, though,” he said.

“No,” I agreed quietly. “But you’re trying to do right by her as best you can. That’s more than most people would do.”

He held my gaze and I could see the tension in his body melting away. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for protecting Granny and me as best you could today,” I said. “Thanks for not hurting her when she came at you.”

“I would never hurt her,” he insisted, his brows pinching together. “Or you.”

I believed him.