Land of Wolves: Chapters 36-40 (Patreon)

Chapter 36

My teeth clatter as I hold my key fob to the scanner on my apartment building’s front door. Today’s been a good day, and I’m ready to curl up on my couch with a glass of wine. I can’t remember the last time I felt this truly happy.

Even on my best days with Caleb, there was always this undercurrent of pain and anxiety caused by my secret affiliation with HPAW. Every good moment was overshadowed by the knowledge of what I had to do, but now that the secret is out, I no longer feel that crushing weight.

I feel free.

The door unlocks with a loud buzz, and I pull lit open and make my way to my mailbox just before the staircase. I’m sure it’ll be empty, it always is, but I still check. Someday I’ll have mail, and I’m looking forward to it.

Even if it’s nothing more than spam.

I’m pretty sure Caleb was on every mailing list known to man, but I loved getting it from the mailbox every morning and sorting through it. It provided a sense of normalcy and permanence to my life.

Two things I’d never had before.

I unlock and pull open my mailbox, but it’s empty. I’ll give the bank my address when I go in tomorrow, and I’m sure they’ll send me a few things.

Sighing, I turn and begin climbing the stairs to my apartment. They look like they’ve recently been cleaned, the build-up salt brought in from the icy sidewalks finally removed. I’m glad, and for once, my shoes don’t crackle against the stairs as I make my way up them.

Has Caleb had anything to do with this? This may be his way of showing he cares. I scoff and shake my head. No. I’m reading into things.

Our bond is working in overdrive, and it’s got me looking for any excuse to forgive him and reach out. There’s a dull ache in my chest I only ever feel when we’re fighting, and it’s impossible to ignore.

Caleb is impossible to ignore. I can’t stop thinking about him, even when I know I shouldn’t.

I’m angry, and I fully intend to remain strong.

I received another message while driving home, but I refuse to check it. I haven’t looked at any of his messages since we got into our argument. I can’t bring myself to do it, and it’s not like I don’t already know what they’ll say.

Caleb’s predictable in his apologies. We made a deal, one I worked my fucking ass off to honor, and he can’t do the bare minimum and tell his people he’s not looking for a wife.

He doesn’t even have to mention me.

I only want him to say he needs some time for himself. It’s not an unreasonable request, and I’m sure his people would understand. Everybody knows I tried to kill him, and I genuinely doubt they’d be surprised if he said he isn’t in a rush to find somebody new.

I know he knows that, too. It’s bullshit, and I’m pissed.

My anger grows as I round the final corner of my apartment staircase and see the man in question sitting on the floor in front of my door. I slow, unsure what to say, and linger at the top of the stairs.

What’s he doing here? I’ve been ignoring his messages for a reason. If I wanted to speak to him, I’d have reached out.

“Hey,” Caleb says, standing.

He wipes his hands on his pants, and I clutch my keys in my fist as he steps to the side so I can enter my apartment.

I don’t move. Is he hoping I’ll invite him in? He can’t just show up at my place and expect me to pretend everything is okay.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask. “Your date didn’t go as planned?” My question is full of spite, and I regret it the moment the words slip from my lips.

I’m fishing, looking for him to tell me he hasn’t gone out with any of the female wolves I’m sure have been throwing themselves at him since hearing the announcement. It’s a desperate play, and I refuse to make myself out to be a jealous, heartbroken woman.

I put my everything into fixing our bond, threw aside every scrap of pride and dignity I had to make things right, and Caleb didn’t even care. If he did, he wouldn’t humiliate me further by letting this information spread.

Caleb’s jaw clenches. “I’ve seen no women,” he says.

The crushing weight in my chest lessens, but I force myself not to show any emotion as I cross my arms over my chest and eye my apartment door. The stairwell is chilly.

Caleb steps farther away, putting more space between him and the door. I eye it, debating, before moving forward.

I’m not going to let him in.

Caleb gets the hint and doesn’t try to enter, and I set down my bag and shrug off my coat as he moves to stand at the top of the stairwell. The landing is small, and I get a whiff of his cologne as our movement causes the stale building air to shift.

I gulp, hating the emotions his scent evokes. He smells like home.

“What are you doing here, Caleb?” I ask again.

“I want to talk to you.”

No shit.

“I have a busy day tomorrow,” I say.

Caleb leans against the banister at the top of the stairs. He looks good today, and he’s wearing the brown sweater I love. It’s a thick knit, and I’ve always appreciated how it stretches across his shoulders.

“Do you?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Caleb stares, his expression unreadable. He looks like he wants to pry, but instead, he presses his lips together and glances to the side.

“I need to get an ID and bank account.” I answer his unspoken question.

I know I don’t owe him any explanations, but I’m sure it was only a matter of time before he figured it out. I’m confident he’s got his spies, aka Cole, watching my every move. Although maybe Cole is refusing since Caleb sent Sash away.

I imagine he’s not happy about his mate being banished from the pack, and I’m sure he’s even more pissed she’s been stripped of her title.

“I can help you with both of those,” Caleb offers.

By help, I’m sure he means making a phone call and demanding these things get made for me. I don’t want that, and I don’t hesitate to shake my head.

“I want to do them myself,” I say.

Things grow awkward, and I shift from foot to foot before stepping aside and gesturing for Caleb to come in. I’m weak.

He practically fucking beams as he enters my apartment, and I make my way to the living room as he shuts and locks my door. I usually offer him a drink, but I don’t want him to feel too cozy here. I want him to know I’m angry.

My couch calls for me, but I sit in the chair to the right of it instead. I’m scared Caleb will try to join me on the sofa if I’m on it, and I don’t think I could handle being in such close proximity to him.

Even being in the same room with him is hard.

The bond pulls for me to touch him and be close, and I fight it with everything I have.

“Sorry for not coming by sooner. There’s been movement with HPAW, and it’s been keeping me busy,” he says.

Movement with HPAW? What’s that supposed to mean?

“What kind of movement?” I pry.

Caleb purses his lips as he lowers himself onto my couch. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his thighs, and I watch as he drops his head and runs his fingers through his hair.

The action is full of stress, and I find myself mindlessly copying him as I wait to hear more. What’s HPAW doing? It’s never good when they have significant movements, and it usually means they’re shifting around men in preparation for an attack.

They’ve probably concluded I’m not going to return and are taking matters into their own hands.

The silence stretches, and after a few moments, I realize Caleb is looking for an out. He doesn’t want to tell me about HPAW. It’s annoying, but I don’t blame him. I recognize that I’m not precisely in a place to be demanding information about HPAW.

It hasn’t been that long since I tried to kill Caleb for them.

“Are you here to tell me you’ve announced you’re not looking for a wife? Or are you here because your wolf made you come?” I ask, changing the subject.

Caleb looks up at me, and the hesitance in his expression is all I need to see.

“Well, you’ve seen me,” I sigh, standing.

I walk to my front door, but Caleb doesn’t move.

“It’s time for you to go,” I urge.

Caleb shakes his head. “I’m going to stay here tonight.”

Shock renders me momentarily silent. Excuse me? Caleb may pay the rent, but he’s made it clear this place is mine. I smash my teeth together and suck in a deep breath. Getting angry isn’t going to get me anywhere.

“I know you’re angry, but I’ve had a horrible day at work and I just need to be here and make sure you’re safe,” he pleads.

I drag my hands down my cheeks.

“I’ll sleep on the couch and won’t bother you at all,” he continues.

He sounds so fucking pathetic. It’s my weakness.

“Is this about HPAW?” I ask.

Caleb worries his bottom lip between his teeth before giving a jerky nod. After seeing those torture videos they sent him, I’m not sure I want to know what happened today that made him so desperate to be near me.

I pause, debating it, before making my way to my linen closet and pulling out my spare set of sheets. Caleb can stay, but I will not be welcoming him into my bed. I’ll be a goner the moment we’re under those covers together.

My body aches for him, and I struggle to keep the distance I know we need right now.

Caleb watches as I approach with the sheets, and he smiles as I set them on the coffee table and begin pulling all my throw pillows off the couch. It’s a fairly large sectional, but it’s not big enough for him to comfortably sleep on.

Still, he’s the one who asked for this.

Caleb grabs the sheets and begins setting up the couch to his liking, and I head to my bedroom to grab one of my bed pillows. I have two, and after minor hesitation, I snatch the one I usually use.

I find sick pleasure in knowing he will be sleeping with the pillow that reeks of me, and I hope it makes him think long and hard about his search for a wife.

I toss the pillow at him once I step into the room, and Caleb catches it just seconds before his nostrils flare and he looks away. He smells me on it. It takes everything in me not to crack a smile as he sets it on the couch and clears his throat.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Caleb says.

It’s not like he makes it easy to say no. Despite how angry he makes me, I still love him. Besides, I know it’s my fault we’re in this predicament in the first place. I’m still haunted by the look in Caleb’s eye when he woke up and realized I’d just sunk a knife into his throat.

He looked so shocked, so scared, and I hate knowing I was the cause of it.

All because I blindly believed in HPAW. Despite the months of kind treatment I’d received from the wolves, I chose to believe the organization that had lied to me since childhood.

Caleb reaches for my arm, but I smoothly move it away before he makes contact. Every piece of me wants to ask how he plans to move forward with his search for a wife, but I won’t torture myself by doing so.

I lick my lips and glance at my kitchen counters. I usually keep my place tidy, and it’s just my luck that Caleb would invite himself over the one time it’s messy.

“If you get hungry, there are leftovers in the fridge,” I say.

Caleb’s eyes dart to the kitchen. He likes my cooking, and it was something I always enjoyed doing for him. There was a kitchen I was allowed to use while I was with HPAW, but it wasn’t until I was with Caleb that I truly began to experiment.

There’s something about cooking for another person that made me feel good, and I think Caleb liked being taken care of.

“I have zero intentions to take a wife, Ev,” he says, not commenting on the leftovers.

I clear my throat. It’s easy for him to say that, but his actions prove otherwise. It may not have been his fault Sash released those statements, but his reaction to them speaks volumes.

“It sure doesn’t look that way to me,” I admit. “It’s been days, and as far as I know, you haven’t said one word about it.”

Caleb runs a hand through his hair.

“It’s not because I don’t want to. I just…” He trails off hesitantly, and I cross my arms over my chest as I wait for him to elaborate.

He doesn’t, and I resist the urge to scream as I spin on my heel and storm back into my bedroom. I don’t have the time, energy, or patience to deal with this. I have a lot to do tomorrow, and Caleb clearly doesn’t intend to be entirely truthful about what’s happening.

I’ve lost his trust.

Caleb doesn’t attempt to stop me as I close my bedroom door and shut him out. A small part of me wishes he would, but he doesn’t. The old Caleb would have. Before everything went to shit, Caleb would have pulled me into his lap and rubbed my back until I fell asleep in his arms.

Now he can’t even bring himself to tell the wolves he’s not searching for a wife. Or that our bond is no longer vanishing. It’s not fixed, but it’s no longer black. He feels the mate bond again.

Caleb’s ashamed of me.

Tears threaten to fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks, but I refuse to let them. I’m tired of sitting around feeling bad for myself. Yes, I made shitty decisions, but I’m working hard to rectify them. I can’t control what Caleb does, but this is my life and I’m determined to make the best of it.

I’ve got a new job I’m excited about, and come tomorrow, I will have an ID and a bank account to match. I’ll make my own money and start my own life, and I refuse to let anybody or anything stand in my way.

Chapter 37

Why’s he still here?

I stare at my ceiling as Caleb clatters around in the kitchen. I expected him to be gone when I woke up, and I snatch my phone and glance at the time with a deep sigh. He should have left for work by now.

I’m willing to bet he’s waiting for me to get up.

I want to hide out in my room until he leaves, but I need to get a move on. I don’t know how long it will take to get my ID and bank account set up, and I’d like to ensure I have enough time to do both today.

Greg asked me to get my paperwork to him this week, and I’ll be damned if I’m late on the first task he’s given me. That wouldn’t be setting a good example for myself.

Pulling back my covers, I shiver as the cool air hits the bare skin of my arms and legs. The vents in my bedroom aren’t great, and it always gets cold when I close the door and block the flow of warm air from coming in through the main living area.

Still, it’s worth it if it keeps Caleb away.

I doubt he’d take it upon himself to crawl into my bed in the middle of the night, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I wouldn’t have the strength to push him away if he did.

Caleb continues to clatter around in the kitchen, and I tug off the shirt of his I wore to bed and slip on something of my own instead. His head would get too big if he knew I was wearing the shirt I took from him when we were in the hospital.

“What’s going on?” I ask, pushing open my bedroom door.

My question is met with another loud clatter, and I step into the kitchen just as he kicks my dishwasher shut. The counters are spotless, and I purse my lips as I realize he has cleaned the entire room.

Why’d he do that?

Caleb shoots me a nervous smile and leans against the sink.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

I shake my head. I don’t usually have a big appetite in the morning, a fact that’s always annoyed Caleb.

“Aren’t you going to be late for work?” I glance at the time on the stove.

I assume Caleb doesn’t intend to go to work in the same clothing he wore yesterday, and by the time he goes home, showers, and leaves, he’ll be a good hour and a half later than usual. It’s not like Caleb has anybody to report to, but he’s always been good about being punctual.

He looks disappointed, and my heart clenches as he licks his lips and dips his chin. I know he wants to talk, but I’m not ready. All he’s got for me are excuses and half-truths, and I’d rather not hear them.

I clear my throat and scratch the back of my head. What now?

“Can I see your cut?” Caleb asks.

My fingers still where they rest on my scab. It’s almost entirely healed, and thankfully my hair no longer rests weirdly over the spot. I still haven’t been able to brush out the area, but I finger-comb through the strands so they don’t get too tangled.

I’ll give it a few more days before tackling it with the brush.

I drop my hand to my side and spin around. Caleb’s bare feet patter quietly against the ground as he approaches, and a second later I feel his fingers in my hair. His touch is amazing, and I fight the urge to step back into his chest.

What would he do if I did? Would he wrap his arms around my waist and hold me, or would he pretend not to notice and step away?

“It looks good,” he says, his voice quiet. “I can take you to the hospital later if you’d like to have it looked at.”

I shake my head. That’s an odd offer, and I lick my lips before turning back around. Does he not know about my new job? He hasn’t said anything about it, but I struggle to imagine he hasn’t already been informed.

“I work at the hospital now,” I say.

Caleb’s eyes grow comically wide. He truly doesn’t know?

“What?” he asks.

“I’m the janitor. Greg hired me just yesterday. I’m surprised Cole hasn’t told you already,” I admit.

Caleb cocks his head to the side, and I resist the urge to shrink as his expression grows cold. Is he angry? He can’t honestly expect me to sit inside all day weeping over him.

I deserve to make a life for myself, and Caleb told me that that’s what he wants for me, too. He even went as far as to say he wished for me to find a male and start a family.

“You’ve been talking to Cole?” Caleb sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. “Why? About what?”

What? He’s making no sense.

“No? I haven’t seen him since I was with you in the hospital,” I’m quick to explain. “I just assume you have him watching me.”

Caleb stares at me like he’s searching for a lie.

“What makes you think that? Do you feel like somebody’s watching you?”

I shake my head. “No,” I admit.

Caleb breathes out a sigh of relief. “I don’t have anybody watching you, Ev. There’s a tracker on your car that sends an alert if you leave the pack lands, and I have a few other alerts set up for certain actions on your phone and computer.”

The fact that he doesn’t elaborate on those alerts tells me all I need to know about where his trust in me currently lies.

“You really don’t have me being watched?” I can’t help but ask.

Caleb shakes his head.

Oh. That’s nice to know.

“Well, Greg hired me yesterday, and I start on Monday,” I say.

I know I don’t need to tell him this, but I don’t see a reason to keep it a secret. I’m proud of myself for getting a job, and a small part of me wants to brag. I want Caleb to see how well I’m doing for myself.

Caleb’s eyes dart to my hand, and I instinctively move my arm behind my back. I’m embarrassed by my mark, and I hate when people stare. I know I fucked up, and I don’t need the constant reminder.

“Ev, I—“ he starts.

“You should probably get going,” I interrupt. “You don’t want to be late for work.”

It’s not my smoothest moment, but Caleb gets the hint. The smile he shoots me doesn’t meet his eye, but I can tell he’s trying and it breaks my heart. I don’t understand what’s happening between us, and it fucking hurts.

Caleb slides a mug of coffee I didn’t notice before in my direction, and I peer into the cup to see he’s even poured in the right amount of creamer. My hands shake as I grab it and retreat to my room, and I refuse to let myself be upset as I step into my closet and get ready.

I wait until I hear my front door shut to leave my room, and only once I’m sure he’s gone do I make my way to my car and head to, naturally, Caleb’s office building.

I pray he’s not the person I’ll need to speak to, and I white knuckle my steering wheel the entire way there. I’ve been inside his work dozens of times, and I slink against the wall as I step inside and make my way to the building’s receptionist.

I’ve never spoken to Rosy before, but she always seemed nice. She sits behind her desk looking terribly bored as she picks a piece of lint off her black sweater and flicks it away. Her eyes flash to me as she does so, and she sits up so quickly my brain can barely register the movement.

“Evelyn?” she says, grabbing the phone.

I’m willing to bet everything I own that she’s about to call Caleb, and I frantically shake my head to stop her.

“I’m here to get an ID,” I explain.

Her lips form the shape of an O, and she sets her phone back on her desk before turning to her computer and typing something in. I hold my breath while waiting to see what floor and room she tells me to go to.

“It’ll be a bit of a wait, but if you head down the hall and make a left, Miss Greene in room 107 will be able to help you with that,” she says.

I nod. “Great, thanks,” I say, heading down the hall she’s pointed to.

I keep my head down so I don’t draw too much attention. Unlike the hospital, this building is full of wolves. None give me a hard time as I make my way to room 107, but I can feel their eyes on me. Everybody is always watching me.

The second I spot Miss Greene’s office, I push my way inside and greet her receptionist. I’m directed to wait in one of the chairs sitting along the far wall, and I do so with a weak smile.

It’s finally happening.

Rosy wasn’t kidding when she said it would be a bit of a wait, and two hours pass before I finally get invited inside Miss Greene’s office. I’ve seen her around a few times, and she gives me a cold greeting before pulling out no less than a thousand forms for me to fill out.

Sweat builds and drips down my inner arms as she hammers me with question after question, and my embarrassment grows with every one I’m unable to answer. I do my best, but I was taken to the HPAW facility when I was young and I hardly remember the little things like my mother’s maiden name or my actual birthday.

Miss Greene doesn’t seem pleased, and I have a feeling Caleb may have said something as she angrily skips past the things I don’t know. I want to be angry with him for interfering, but I have a feeling I’d be denied the ID if it weren’t for him.

I’m seconds away from ripping out my hair when she finally hands me my temporary paper ID an hour and a half later. Even knowing I will receive a plastic one in the mail doesn’t lift my spirits.

Fuck.

I already feel a headache coming on, and the excitement I had for today has all but vanished as I make my way to the bank.

That was harder than I thought it would be.

The wolves only use one bank, and I clutch my paper ID to my chest as I step inside the building and get in line. It’s busy, probably a lunch-hour rush, and I hope the wolves nearby can’t hear my rumbling stomach as I wait.

I should have taken Caleb up on his offer to make breakfast.

Unlike in Caleb’s office, the wolves in the bank don’t ignore me. They shoot me dirty glares, and I can tell some are even speaking about me as they pointedly stare in my direction and whisper to the person in line next to them.

It’s uncomfortable at best, and I do my best to pretend I don’t notice as I wait my turn in line.

A good forty-five minutes pass before I see a teller.

“I’m here to open an account,” I say, setting my paper ID on the tall counter between us.

The man laughs abruptly before pointing behind me and to the left. I turn and look in that direction, but there’s nothing more than a bunch of empty cubicles.

“You’ll need to wait over there,” he says.

What? “There’s nobody over there?”

The teller sighs like I’m today’s biggest inconvenience.

“Do you not see the cubicles?” he asks.

I hesitate. “I do.”

“Good. Jimmy’s on lunch, but he’ll be back soon and can help you set up an account. You need to wait over there,” he repeats.

I grab my ID from the counter. So I just waited in this long line for nothing? I could cry, but instead, I straighten my shoulders and shoot the teller what I hope is a friendly smile. I want to be an independent adult, and that means learning how to navigate these situations.

Even if they’re fucking humiliating.

“Thanks,” I say, making my way over there.

There are precisely two chairs near the cubicles, and I take ownership of one.

The seat is a terribly uncomfortable hard plastic, and it takes a good hour for Jimmy to appear from the back room. It’s well past lunch, and my body is begging for food. Already I can feel my brain getting foggy, and I do my best to ignore it as Jimmy waves me over.

He eyes my paper ID with a raised brow, and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh as I explain I need to open an account. Despite it, he doesn’t give me a hard time as he turns on his computer and prints out another thousand forms for me to fill out.

I’m sick and tired of forms.

He makes copies for me to keep, and by the time I finally leave, I’ve got an armful of welcome packets and bank information I’ll never need. Jimmy explained the basics to me, and I made sure to write down my routing and account number for work.

I’ll figure everything else out as I go.

It’s almost time for dinner by the time I finally make it home, and I drop everything on my kitchen island before gathering the ingredients I need for a quick panini. I don’t have the energy or patience for anything that requires a lot of work.

I grab my cutting board and get to work slicing a tomato when the tears come, and for once, I let them flow as I cook.

Today was fucking exhausting.

I sniffle and wipe my nose with my sleeve, my anger, embarrassment, and sheer fucking exhaustion turning me into a crying mess. I want things to be back to normal. I miss Caleb and how comfortable my life was with him.

Things we easy, and I was happy. We were happy.

A knock on the door draws my attention, and I slam my knife on my cutting board before making my way to the door.

What’s Caleb want now?

The knocking continues, and I resist the urge to scream as I rip it open. I fully expect to see Caleb standing on the other side, but instead there’s some man I don’t recognize waiting for me. He looks pissed.

I wipe my cheeks, not wanting him to notice I’ve been crying. I’m sure it’s incredibly apparent by my red eyes and splotchy cheeks, but I’d still like to try and preserve whatever shred of dignity I have left.

The man huffs, and I trail my eyes down his frame.

He’s tall and muscular, unsurprising for a wolf, and he wears a ratty t-shirt and loose sweatpants. Interesting attire. I look up and take in his hair. It’s messy, and it seems like he just woke up. Is he a neighbor or something?

“Yes?” I ask.

My voice is clipped and maybe a little bit rude, and I clear my throat before forcing a smile onto my lips. I’m supposed to be winning over the wolves, not snapping at them.

Even when they pound on my door like the building’s on fire.

“Can you keep it down? I’m tired of listening to you cry every fucking night,” he snaps.

I recoil, shocked by both the anger in his voice and the words he says. He can hear me crying? I’m not exactly making an effort to be silent, but I’m by no means bawling or making any excessive noise. My crying is very average.

I open my mouth, but no sound emerges.

“I know Alpha Caleb dumped you and all, but the crying is fucking annoying,” he continues.

My blood boils, and the last bit of patience I had evaporates.

“Close your fucking ears, then,” I snap.

I slam the door shut before letting out an exaggerated sob and storming back into my kitchen. Fuck him. Fuck the wolves.

Fuck everything.

Chapter 38

I never in a million years would’ve thought mopping could be so hard.

My muscles ache as I stick my mop into the full bucket and swirl it around. I need to refill it soon, the water now a murky gray, but I’m hoping to finish this hallway first. Some soap splashes over the side of the bucket as I lift the mop and squeeze the excess water out.

How long has it been since the floors were last mopped?

There wasn’t too much dust when I swept, so I know that’s been kept up on, but I’m beginning to think the hospital hasn’t had a good mopping since Mark found his mate and quit. I resist the urge to groan as I nudge the bucket aside and drop the wet mop to the floor.

I’ve been here all day, and this is the last thing I need to do before leaving.

I never imagined it would take so long.

Voices travel up the hallway from the employee break room, and I shiver as I recognize them as Jan and Gabby. There’s a schedule posted on the back wall of the break room with all the nurses and their shifts, and those two are expected to work tonight.

Fuck my life.

They remind me of the evil stepsisters from one of the princess movies I faintly remember watching as a child.

The only interaction I’ve had with them was when they shared the information about Caleb’s wife search, but it was enough. Most wolves don’t like me, but they limit their hatred to glares and sneaky talk behind my back.

It’s not a good sign when any go out of their way to be cruel, and I dread what further interaction with them will look like.

The mop gets caught on an especially sticky part of the floor, and I grimace as I push harder on the handle. I don’t want to know what those sticky spots are. I don’t encounter them often, but they always fill me with dread.

I’m choosing to believe they’re simply spots where coffee was spilled and not adequately cleaned.

They’re definitely not body fluids.

I finish the remainder of the hallway with no issues, and thankfully Jan and Gabby’s voices have disappeared by the time I dump my bucket and make my way through the employee lounge and into the janitor’s room.

Today was a long day, but I find a lot of satisfaction in grabbing my marker and checking off everything I did. I’m making good progress.

I linger for a few minutes and make a plan of action for tomorrow. I’m going to try coming in a bit later in the day. It seems less busy, and I like to avoid people as much as possible.

I’m becoming a hermit.

Sniffling, I turn and look around the room. Mark kept it organized and finding everything I need has been easy. I think I’m going to end up enjoying this job.

Jan’s voice seeps through the walls, and I shrug on my coat and make my way out of the building before I run into her.

Frigid air whips around my face the second I push open the doors and step outside, and I let out an audible groan as I yank my coat around my body and rush to my car. It’s one of the only ones in the lot, and I mentally curse myself for parking so far away.

I decided to leave the front spots open in case of an emergency, but that seems to have been silly thinking.

There were a total of six wolves who came in today, and four of them were children needing routine physicals. The fifth only came to bring one of the nurses lunch, and the sixth was a pregnant female in need of an ultrasound.

Seeing the pregnant female made me feel so guilty I thought I would get sick. It twisted up my insides until I could barely breathe, and I had to hide in the bathroom for a good ten minutes trying to calm myself.

I can’t believe I asked Caleb to cum in me, and I’m so thankful it didn’t get me pregnant. I was in agony for a good week until my period started, and even then I was still scared. Would Caleb have asked me to get an abortion?

He seemed pretty upset when I told him that was my initial plan, but it’s not something I intend to ask about. What’s done is done, and I have a feeling revising that particular conversation isn’t going to fix anything.

Another gust of wind has my teeth chattering, and I grimace as I rip open my car door and jump inside. My car windows are covered in ice, and I squint as I try and fail to see the parking lot beyond it. I’m not going to be able to drive until it’s gone.

There’s a snow brush in my trunk for this reason, but I think I might freeze to death if I spend one more second outside. Instead, I turn on my car and switch the heat to full blast. The air that initially shoots from the vents is cold, but I know it’ll warm soon enough.

I press my hands to the wheel as I wait.

I don’t want to go home. My apartment is lonely, and every minute I spend there slowly crushes my spirit. It represents my dozens of mistakes and overwhelmingly shitty life situation, and I’ve grown to hate being there.

It’s a shame I don’t have any friends to spend time with.

Greg is the only wolf who’s been nice to me, and I doubt he wants to hang out with me. He’s a middle-aged man with a mate and a gaggle of children. I’m of little interest to him.

I wrestle with my coat pocket and pull out my phone. I have no messages, unsurprising considering Caleb is the only person who ever texts me and his daily message came a few hours ago. I tap at the screen in boredom before turning on my car wipers.

The vents have warmed the ice just enough that most of it scrapes away, and I put my car in drive and make my way to the library before I change my mind. I’ve always enjoyed reading, and I’ve never gotten to truly indulge.

I was just starting to get into it before everything went to shit with Caleb and me, and I miss losing myself in another world. I’m sure Caleb wouldn’t say anything if I used his card to purchase some books online, but I don’t want to use his money.

I’ve been trying my best to only use his card for necessities, and books, unfortunately, don’t fall under that category.

The library is free, and I can read there until I get my first paycheck in two weeks.

I’m more than a little excited to get paid. The mere thought of having money that is genuinely mine makes me giddy, and I don’t even know what I will spend it on. I should treat myself to something nice.

My fingers tap against the steering wheel as I pull into the library parking lot, and I stare at the large building for a long moment as I work up the courage to go inside. The librarian isn’t exactly the nicest wolf I’ve come across, and I thoroughly embarrassed myself the last time I was here.

I’m sure she found humor in my begging for a job.

“Fuck,” I huff, turning off my car and running inside.

It’s either the library or my apartment.

Mary’s not at her desk when I push open the doors, and I let out a relieved sigh as I hurry inside and rush down the first aisle to my left. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, and I follow the signs until I end up in the fiction section.

It’s on the main floor, and I wander down the aisles until I find a spine that looks interesting.

I peer around, nervous, before pulling the book off the shelf and reading the back cover. The synopsis is rather long, but I only need to read three sentences to realize this probably isn’t the book for me. It’s some small-town horror, and I’m looking for something to make me feel good.

Not give me nightmares.

I move to the next aisle and grab another random book. The cover is an interesting blue spiral pattern, and the synopsis describes it as a sweet coming-of-age.

It’ll do.

My usual go-to is dirty romance, but I’d rather die than be caught reading those books in public. The wolves would undoubtedly gossip about it, and I don’t want that information getting back to Caleb. He used to love teasing me about how worked up my books would make me, and I bet he’d get a sick satisfaction out of knowing I’m reading them without having him to go to for release.

I mentally note where I took the book from before hugging it to my chest and making my way to a small chair in the back corner of the library. It’s tucked privately away from the tables where everybody sits and works, and I cuddle up on it before flipping to the first page.

The library closes in two hours, and I intend to use the time well.

The book is better than I thought, and I find myself absorbed in the storyline within minutes. I flip page after page with more need than I ever thought possible, and I feel about ready to cry when I check the time and realize it’s time to leave.

I want to keep reading.

My lips purse as I search for something to hold my spot, but there’s nothing nearby to use. Instead, I pull out my phone and take a photo of the page I left off on. I’ll be back tomorrow to finish this bad boy.

Mary is still nowhere to be seen as I return the book to the shelf I took it from, but I spot her at her desk as I make my way to the front doors.

She looks mildly confused as she glances at my hands, and I look down at them before meeting her gaze. What’s wrong with my hands? She provides no answers as she turns away, and I debate asking before deciding against it and leaving.

She’d probably say I’m crazy and has no idea what I’m going on about.

She wouldn’t be wrong.

My car is icy again, and I rest my head against the steering wheel as I wait for it to warm. I really don’t want to go home.

There’s nowhere to go other than the grocery store, but that’s a level of desperation I refuse to bring myself to. At least not yet.

I use my wipers to remove the thin layer of ice on my windshield and put my car in drive. I make the left that leads to my apartment, but instead of cutting another left at the town square, I turn right and make my way down a road I know I most certainly shouldn’t.

This is a bad idea.

I continue down the road until I spot Caleb’s house. It looks the same as I remembered, and I find myself pulling into the driveway before I can convince myself to turn back around and leave. I shouldn’t be here.

There’s a light on inside, and I hope that means Caleb is home as I step out of the car and approach the front door.

I really should leave.

I raise my fist, preparing to knock, before dropping it back to my side. This is a mistake. My shoulders sag as I take a step away, preparing to leave.

Caleb pulls open the door.

“Ev,” he breathes.

I choke up, and Caleb opens the door the rest of the way and gestures for me to enter. There’s no hesitation in his movements, but I’m feeling enough of that emotion for the both of us.

He’s wearing only a pair of tight black underwear, but I’m too focused on the dark bags under his eyes to pay his exposed skin any attention. Caleb looks tired. No. He looks exhausted.

“Not one word,” I say, stepping inside. “Please,” I continue, my voice cracking.

Caleb keeps his mouth shut, and I fight tears as I remove my shoes and coat. He wordlessly takes my jacket and hangs it for me, the action one he’s done hundreds of times.

I hate how comfortable it feels.

We stare at one another, and I cross my arms over my chest as I debate my next move. I didn’t think this through. Caleb cocks his head to the side, and his attention travels down the length of my body as his nostrils flare.

I’m sure I smell gross after spending all day cleaning dusty corners and sticky floors.

“Can we just pretend for tonight?” I ask.

Caleb gulps. “Yes.”

We continue to stare at one another. Caleb, despite his eye bags and unruly hair, looks good. It’s those damn wolf genes.

I can’t say the same for myself.

My face is breaking out, from stress or hormones I can’t tell, and the center of my bottom lips is split. Caleb stares at me like he doesn’t even notice. It’s polite of him.

Seconds stretch, and I awkwardly turn and make my way upstairs after a minute. Caleb follows, but his silence speaks volumes.

He probably wants to know what I’m thinking. I do, too.

The room we once shared is open, and I curl my fingers into the skin of my biceps as I peek inside. It physically hurts to be in here after what I did, and the memory of his blood pooling on the floor and soaking into the sheets haunts me as I look around.

“You’ve gotten new sheets,” I blurt.

I regret the words the second I say them. Of course he got new sheets. His were stained with blood.

Caleb hums but still doesn’t speak as I make my way to his closet and grab one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. My muscles are pulled so tight they ache, but I ignore it as I step into the bathroom and take one of the quickest showers known to man.

I stare in the mirror for a long while after I get dressed. Caleb’s clothing swallows me, and I fiddle with the hem of his shirt before stepping out of the bathroom.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

It hurts to see, and I rock back on my heels as he runs his fingers through his hair and straightens up. His pupils dilate as he sees me in his clothing, and I pull back the bed sheets and crawl underneath before either of us gets carried away.

Tonight isn’t about sex. I just need comfort.

I need to know that somebody still wants me. That there’s one person in the world who would care if I died tomorrow.

Caleb flicks off the bedroom light and slides into bed with me. We lay on our backs and stare at the ceiling, neither of us willing to make the first move. I’m scared he’ll push me away if I try to cuddle. I shift under the sheets, adjusting the shirt that’s ridden up to my hips, before rolling onto my side with my back facing Caleb.

He doesn’t move, and I scoot back until my butt brushes his arm.

It’s a clear invitation.

Humiliation warms my cheeks when he doesn’t move. This was a stupid idea. I shut my eyes and force away the tears that threaten to spill onto my cheeks. I refuse to cry.

“HPAW’s gotten aggressive, more so than ever before. I’m scared claiming you will make you a bigger target,” Caleb whispers into the dark.

I stiffen, and he rolls over. Is that why he’s been avoiding addressing Sash’s announcement? I’m sure word has spread far and wide that he’s rejected me, and I’d be surprised if HPAW hasn’t caught wind of it by now.

The announcement only further proves it.

Caleb drapes a heavy arm over my waist and pulls me against his chest.

“I’m so fucking scared, Ev,” he continues. “I can’t lose you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I promise.

Caleb gives me a tight squeeze but otherwise doesn’t respond.

He slides his hand up the front of my shirt until his palm rests over my heart. His fingers dig into the skin, and he holds me so tightly he threatens to cut off my oxygen supply. It’s exactly what I need, and I bury my face in my pillow as I relax into the sheets.

Chapter 39

Caleb’s gone when I wake up, but I can tell he’s just recently moved. I’m doused in sweat, and the spot where he once laid is still impossibly warm.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. That was by far the best sleep I’ve gotten in weeks, and I stretch my arms above my head before turning toward the bathroom. The door is closed, but I hear running water from behind it.

I have a feeling sneaking out while he’s in the bathroom isn’t the right move, but I doubt either of us wants to deal with an awkward morning after conversation. We didn’t have sex, but the way he held me felt even more intimate.

What now?

I don’t want to overstay my welcome, and I’m absolutely certain that Caleb would never dare tell me he wants me to leave. He’s much too polite for that.

If he were a human, he would be horrible at one-night stands.

The water shuts off, and I climb out of bed and fix the sheets while he dresses. I want to discuss what he said last night, and I linger as I wait for him to leave the bathroom.

“Good morning,” Caleb says, pushing open the bedroom door.

He looks good.

He’s dressed for work, and the bone-deep exhaustion he wore yesterday has all but vanished. I fight back a smile as I eye him. He’s feeling better because he spent the night with me.

That realization makes me feel better than it has any business doing.

“Thank you for last night,” I say.

I figure pretending it didn’t happen isn’t the right course of action, especially when I’m currently in the middle of making the bed we shared. My cheeks warm as I recall how tightly he held me.

I bet I smell like him right now.

Caleb’s lips twitch, and I catch him flexing his marked hand before smoothly moving it behind his back.

“Why are you hiding your mark from me?” I ask.

I’m fully aware I’m a bit overly sensitive about them, but knowing that does little to stop the nervous anxiety coursing through my veins. Has his mark darkened any further? Has mine?

Caleb clears his throat as I bring my hand in front of me and inspect my mark. My breath hitches as I realize it’s a shade lighter than it was yesterday. The change is subtle, and if it weren’t for me staring at it for what feels like hours every day, I’d probably never notice.

“Has yours lightened as well?” I can’t help but ask.

“About the same as yours,” he admits.

It seems our bond liked us sleeping in the same bed last night. Or maybe it liked that I took the initiative to come here uninvited and crawl into Caleb’s bed. Either way, something we did made it happy.

“Did you mean what you said about being scared to claim me because of HPAW?” I ask.

I need to know. It’s one thing if Caleb is avoiding addressing things because he’s leaving options open, and it’s another if he’s doing it because he somehow thinks it’s protecting me. Neither makes me happy, but the second is arguably better than the first.

The second I can understand.

Caleb purses his lips and glances at the wall behind my head. I wait, eager to hear what he has to say, only to deflate when he shakes his head and turns away.

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” he says.

“But you did, and I want to know if you meant it,” I urge.

I can practically see Caleb shutting down in front of my very eyes. He continues avoiding eye contact, and the muscle in his jaw moves as he grids his teeth together. I’d kill to know what he’s thinking right now.

The old Caleb wouldn’t have thought twice to share his feelings, but this one is painfully reserved. I suppose I don’t blame him.

I did try to kill him.

“I’m not discussing this with you,” he decides.

He turns and leaves the bedroom, and I clench my hands into tight fists as I listen to him walk down the stairs. Is he seriously just going to walk away in the middle of our conversation?

I enter his closet and steal a pair of sweatpants before following him downstairs. He’s in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee, and I come to a halt on the other side of the island and cross my arms over my chest.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“You can talk to me,” I say, lowering my voice.

Caleb purses his lips and taps his fingers against the counter. I can tell he’s deep in thought, and I make my way around the kitchen island and bring us chest to chest.

“I’m uncomfortable,” he admits.

What? I instinctively take a step back.

“I don’t want to speak with you about HPAW. It makes me,” he pauses and runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck! It makes me upset, and I feel uncomfortable discussing it with you.”

Caleb cups the back of my head and shoves his face into my hair. His body is so rigid I fear one wrong movement will throw him over the edge. He sucks in a shaky breath, and I tentatively reach up and grab his biceps.

“You’re not going to lose me,” I whisper.

Caleb drops his forehead to mine, and I tighten my grip on his biceps before tilting my head and pressing my lips to his. He kisses me back immediately, his soft lips forming around my own before he relaxes around me.

I can feel the change in his body as it happens, and I hold him for a second longer before pulling away.

“I’m not going to push you to talk about this today, but I’m not going to move past it. The next time you approach me, this will be the first thing I bring up,” I say.

Caleb squeezes my waist and straightens up. “Thank you.”

I nod and make my way to the front door. This morning has been an absolute clusterfuck, but I don’t regret coming here last night. Even if Caleb is unwilling to talk about it, I have a feeling HPAW is what’s holding him back. I can’t imagine what they’re doing that’s got him so frightened, but I know he wouldn’t tell me if I asked.

He doesn’t trust me, and I’m sure he regrets even letting me see his worry.

Caleb rushes to the door and grabs my coat, and he helps me slide it up my arms before pulling me into his chest and giving me one more kiss. It’s full of need, and I find it next to impossible to pull away when he moans quietly into my mouth.

Fuck.

I shove my hair out of my face and head to my car before I do something I regret.

It’s not as cold as yesterday, thank the heavens, and I make it to my apartment without skidding on even one patch of ice. I count that as a win.

Caleb’s sweatpants threaten to fall down my legs as I step out of my car, and I yank them up as I check my empty mailbox and make my way up the stairs. Even tied and rolled at the waist, they’re still comically loose. I’m sure Caleb got a kick out of watching me walk around in them.

I know I would if I were him.

My eyes land on my rude neighbor as I round the top of the stairs. He’s standing in front of his door with his back to me, and he turns and peers at me over his shoulder as I come to a halt. His body quickly follows his head, and I tighten my grip on the stair railing as he faces me directly.

He’s holding a handful of mail, and he tucks it under his arm as he leans against his door and takes in my outfit.

I don’t like the way he looks at me. It feels condescending, and I know he’s judging. He takes his sweet time looking over the baggy shirt and poorly fitting sweatpants, and his chest expands as he breathes in through his nose.

Can he smell Caleb on me? I sure hope not.

I’m not ready for anybody to know I spent the night with him. Everything is so awkward and tense between us, and I’d like to figure things out with him privately before any rumors get spread. This guy looks like he’d be one to spread rumors.

“Nice outfit,” he snorts.

He’s laughing at me. I cross my arms over my chest. I don’t know what this guy’s problem is, but I’m not in the mood to deal with it.

“Do you have a name?” I ask.

He shoots me a cocky smile, and I want to smack it off his face. The way he mocked me the other day set my blood on fire, and even seeing him makes me irrationally angry. I’m also embarrassed he heard every time I cry, but I’m refusing to acknowledge that fact.

“Yes,” he answers.

I tap my foot against the ground as I wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t, and I shut my eyes and count to ten before I blow up.

“…and it is?” I pry.

“Adam.”

“Well, Adam, you’re a dick,” I snap.

He looks shocked, and I take great pleasure in it as I storm past him and into my apartment. That pleasure lasts for precisely five seconds before it’s replaced by guilt. I’m supposed to be getting along with the wolves, not insulting them.

I run a hand through my hair and yank on the strands.

I’m too angry to apologize right now, but I’ll stop by his apartment when I leave for work and force an apology out of my throat. I’m sure the words will burn as I speak them, but it needs to be done.

My palms are sweaty as I shrug off my coat and kick off my shoes, and I wipe them on Caleb’s sweatpants as I make my way into my bedroom to get changed. These clothes still smell like him, and the desperate part of me wants to preserve the scent for as long as possible.

Fuck.

I’m sick in the head.

Knowing that doesn’t stop anything, though, and I carefully pull off my clothes and lay them over my bed before changing into something of my own. I’m glad not to have a work uniform, and I tug on some leggings and a long sweater.

I’ve got a few hours to kill before needing to be at the hospital, and I head into my kitchen to make some food. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday, and I’m starving.

Caleb would be pissed to learn I slept at his place without having had any dinner. He was always trying to shove food down my throat, and I’d like to think at least a small part of him still worries about my diet.

I set some chicken out to dethaw and serve myself a giant bowl of applesauce to snack on while I wait. It’s good, and I mindlessly eat it before jolting upright and grabbing a stick of butter out of the fridge.

The thought of saying ‘I’m sorry’ to Adam makes me want to puke, but I can probably circumvent that by bringing him some cookies instead. Baked goods are an excellent apology, and I won’t even have to say the words.

This is perfect.

I bounce on my toes and rush around my kitchen getting all the ingredients out. I’ve made chocolate chip cookies for Caleb enough times that I have the recipe memorized, and I find myself making two batches just in case he makes an appearance at my apartment over the next few days.

It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

I have to stop and cook my food halfway through, and I bake the chicken with some potatoes before heating some leftover broccoli I made the other night. It’s not the most exciting meal, but it’s nutritious and doesn’t require much effort.

Sometimes that’s all you can ask for.

I watch videos on my phone while eating over the counter, but it makes me sad, so I carry my plate to the table instead. It makes me feel only marginally better.

I clean up as I wait for the cookies to finish, and I find myself scooping them onto a plate the second my timer goes off.

This better be quick.

I shove my feet into some slippers before pulling open my apartment door and taking the four steps to Adam’s. Even his door pisses me off, and I glare at it as I knock.

Is he even still home?

The door opens, and I force a wide smile onto my lips as I thrust the plate of cookies in his direction.

“For you,” I hiss through my teeth.

Adam fills the doorway and stares down at the plate. His throat bobs as he gulps, and I send a mental cheer when his nostrils flare a second later. The fucker likes cookies.

“Why?” he asks. “Have you poisoned them?” Despite his words, he doesn’t hesitate to reach out and grab the plate.

“I’m sure you’d be able to smell if I poisoned them,” I say.

Adam shrugs, not arguing my point, before grabbing a cookie and shoving it in his mouth. He hums as he chews, and I take that as a good sign. A small part of me always worried that Caleb was only pretending to like my baking because he knew I enjoyed doing it for him.

I wish I never tried to slit his throat.

“I don’t have anything for you,” Adam says, swallowing.

What? “I don’t expect you to.”

Is this some wolf tradition I don’t know about? I’ve never tried to gift something to a wolf before, but I assumed it would be the same. Adam continues to glance between me and the cookies before he quickly steps back and slams the door in my face.

I jolt, startled by the sudden movement.

Well, fuck him too.

Chapter 40

My phone rings, and I glance at the caller before huffing and dropping the device back into my car’s center console.

Caleb’s taken to calling me twice a day, once in the morning when he gets to his office and once in the afternoon when I get home from work. I ignore every single one of them.

The first few times, I was foolish and answered, but it quickly became apparent that he has no intentions to speak about HPAW and wishes to brush his little confession under the rug. Instead, he wants to ask about my day and talk about mindless nothings.

Usually, I love that, but not now.

We can’t keep ignoring the elephant in the room, and I’m unwilling to talk to him until he’s ready to address it.

Mary looks up as I push open the library doors. She nods in greeting before turning away and focusing her attention back on her computer, and I eagerly make my way to the back corner of the building where my half-read book is.

The library is quiet today, and I thankfully don’t encounter any wolves as I grab my book and return to my little reading chair. This spot seems to be one of the most private in the library, and only occasionally will somebody walk by.

It’s nice.

I tuck my knees into my chest before grabbing my shirt and pulling it over top of them so I’m bundled up into a tight ball. I’m sure it’s stretching out the fabric, but it’s comforting so I do it anyway.

Besides, now that I’ve got a job and a paycheck on the way, I can buy myself a new shirt if this one becomes unwearable.

I doubt I could afford any of the same quality Caleb took upon himself to supply me with, but I’m not picky. As long as it covers my stomach and keeps me from catching frostbite in this cold, I’m happy.

I flip to the page I left off on before getting back into reading. I’m still utterly obsessed with the book, and it captures my attention just as quickly as it did before. I find myself engrossed in the fictional world the author created within minutes, and I gnaw mindlessly at my bottom lip as I flip page after page.

“Why do you do this?”

I jump about ten feet in the air and accidentally bite down on my lip. A sharp metallic taste fills my mouth as I look up and meet Mary’s curious expression.

She stands only a few feet in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest and her heeled foot tapping impatiently on the ground. How did I not see her approaching?

“Do what?” I ask.

Mary gestures to my huddled-up form with a wave of her arm. I look down at myself before awkwardly clearing my throat and removing my legs from my shirt. The fabric doesn’t conform to my skin as it did before, and I’m pretty sure I look more than a little pitiful as I stare up at her.

“Read here,” she explains.

Is there something I’m missing?

“…You want to know why I read in the library?”

Mary nods. “Yes.”

“Because I like books?”

My answer comes out as a question, my confusion only growing. What else am I supposed to do in a library if not read? I know some wolves come here for a quiet place to work, but they usually have a few books surrounding them.

“Yeah, but why don’t you ever check them out?” Mary asks.

Check them out? There’s definitely something I’m missing, because I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about.

Mary cocks her head to the side.

“You know you can make an account, check out books, and take them home for three weeks?” she asks.

I had no idea, but I refuse to let myself get too excited. She could be lying. I know Mary doesn’t like me much, and I wouldn’t put it past her to make up some crazy lie just to watch me embarrass myself.

Mary’s chest expands as she sucks in a slow breath, and I can practically see her annoyance radiating off her in waves.

“How many books can I take out?” I ask.

She doesn’t hesitate. “Ten at a time.”

I squeak. Ten? Now I know she’s lying.

Mary’s lips twitch upward for a brief second before she forces them back into her usual scowl. I don’t know what to make of it. Why’s she trying not to smile? She probably thinks she’s got me fooled.

“And how do I make an account?” I ask.

Mary sighs and gestures for me to follow her. I shove my phone between the pages of my book before clutching it to my chest and climbing out of my chair. Despite what I tell myself, I can’t help but feel a tiny bit excited as I follow her to the front desk.

What would be the point of leading me to the front desk if she was only joking? I suppose it could make the ‘sike’ a bit more frustrating since I’d have to turn around and walk back to the chair. Plus, then the other wolves would see it.

The spot where I like to read is private, and I doubt many people would see or overhear our exchange.

Still, I find myself following her like a fool. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do, and in the very slight chance she is telling the truth, it would be nice to get one of those accounts made.

I would love to be able to take my books home. I hate being at my apartment by myself, and I’ve not been able to find much, if any, enjoyment out of watching the TV as I used to. All it does is remind me of Caleb.

“Are library systems different outside the wolf lands?” Mary asks, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

It’s a good question, and one I don’t have an answer to. I’ve always known what libraries are, but I never had any reason to learn the interworkings of one. All I’ve ever been told is that they’re places where books are stored for public use.

I shrug. “I’m not sure. HPAW found me when I was seven, and I was never permitted to leave the facility.”

Mary’s pace slows, and I appreciate it as it gives me time to catch up. What’s with these wolves and walking at such breakneck speeds? It’s like they’re making a competition of it.

“Seven?” Mary asks.

I nod.

“And you never left the facility?”

I shake my head.

Mary frowns. “What about your parents?”

I’ve been trying hard not to think about them. My newfound insight into the workings of the wolves have me doubting what HPAW told me, and the knowledge that I’ve spent years saying how glad I am that they’re dead fills me with so much guilt I could vomit.

“HPAW told me the wolves killed them,” I say.

I don’t elaborate. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.

I’m reasonably certain the wolves had nothing to do with their deaths. If they are dead, it was probably HPAW who did so. I imagine they didn’t want the trouble that came with kidnapping me, and the easiest way to prevent that would be to kill the only people who would raise questions.

“Did you go to school or anything?” Mary asks.

I can’t help but laugh.

“No, but I did learn how to fight with broken bones, and I knew exactly where stab wounds are most fatal,” I admit. “HPAW raised me to hate wolves, and they only ever saw me as a way to get to Caleb.”

Mary rounds her desk and looks me up and down. I practically know what she’s thinking before she even opens her mouth.

“You’re too small to fight us,” she says.

I don’t disagree. In a hand-to-hand fight, I’m almost guaranteed to lose. Even if I’m given a slight advantage, like a weapon, I’m pretty sure I’d still lose. The only reason I got so close to killing Caleb was because I’m his mate and he was sleeping.

Even then, I still didn’t succeed.

Mary sits in her office chair and begins tapping at her computer. I shift my weight from foot to foot, waiting for her to tell me this has all been some elaborate joke. My muscles stiffen as I wait for it to come, but it doesn’t.

“What’s your address?” Mary asks instead.

Why? Is she planning to sneak in and take me out in the middle of the night? I’m sure my neighbor, Adam, would encourage it, and he’d probably go as far as to help her hide my body and escape before Caleb finds out.

Mary sighs, dragging her eyes from her computer when I don’t immediately respond.

“Well?”

I purse my lips, hesitating, before giving it.

“Great,” Mary mumbles, typing it into her computer. “Do you have your ID on you?”

I carry it everywhere with me, and I hate how giddy I feel as I pull it out and slide it across the desk. I feel strangely proud to have one, and I stare at the photo of my smiling face on the front as Mary picks it up and scans it into her computer.

Why’s she doing all this?

The computer beeps, and she hands the card over before rolling her chair back a few feet and pulling a card from a basket. There’s a little scanner next to her computer, and she swipes it before looking up at me.

“Give me your book,” she says.

I protectively clutch it to my chest. I mentally prepared for her to play this joke on me, but I don’t want her to take away my book, too. I’m almost finished, and I’d hate not to know how it ends.

For the first time ever, Mary cracks a genuine smile.

“I’m not going to take the book from you, Evelyn,” she says.

She sounds genuine, but I’m not sure if I believe it. Just a few weeks ago, Cole had to stop her from shifting into her wolf and tearing me limb from limb.

My pulse races, and I tentatively set the book on the desk when she quirks a brow. If she intends to take it, there’s not much I can do to stop her.

Mary shakes her head as she brings the book to the scanner and swipes the barcode on the back. The computer beeps, and she returns it to the counter.

“Finished. That’s your card,” she says, pointing to the plastic card still sitting on the counter. “And now this book is checked out under your name. Bring it back within three weeks. You’ll be charged each day you’re late, and I’m not above putting the balance on Caleb’s account and putting a hold on yours if you don’t pay up.”

I stare at her, dumbfounded.

“You aren’t tricking me?” I blurt.

Mary shakes her head.

“No.”

Things fall silent between us, and I feel like my heart is beating out of my chest as I grab the book and card. My hand shakes as I clutch them to my chest. I can seriously take this book home?

I spin and look around the library, my entire view of it changed.

Any of these books can be mine, for free, for three whole weeks.

My smile grows. This means I can check out my sexual romance books and read them in the privacy of my own home.

Adam hates the sound of my crying, and I’m willing to bet he’s going to hate the sound of my masturbating even more. I’ll make sure to be extra loud just to piss him off. He’ll learn how to close his ears and mind his own damn business real quick.

“What did they tell you about us?”

Mary’s question captures my attention, and I spin around to face her.

“What?”

“What did HPAW tell you about us?” she asks.

I wince. “Not very nice things.”

“Like?”

Why’s she even want to know? They aren’t true.

“They said you are cruel, violent people who take pleasure in torturing and killing humans. They told me you were bad, and that by bringing down Caleb, I would be saving the entire human population,” I admit.

It feels stupid saying it out loud, and I feel foolish for having believed it so thoroughly. I understand how I was tricked before meeting the wolves, but I should have realized something was off once I arrived here.

I lick my lips.

I did realize something was off. Almost immediately, I knew Caleb wasn’t the cruel man HPAW made him out to be, and the wolves were all nothing but pleasant.

Mary frowns and leans back in her chair. “That’s a lot to put on a seven-year-old child.”

I shrug. She’s not wrong.

“Do you still think those things?” she continues.

My eyes flicker over the back wall of the library. Multiple heads are turned toward me, the wolves not bothering to pretend they aren’t listening. I’m sure they’re all interested in hearing this. All they know is that I was a part of HPAW and tried to kill Caleb, but they have no idea why.

A small part of me feels good to be able to explain myself.

I know it doesn’t make up for what I did, but I hope it makes me seem less guilty. My hatred for wolves wasn’t something I just stumbled upon. It was ingrained in me for years and years. HPAW truly made me believe the entire human population depended on me, and I was just trying to do what I thought I had to.

“No, I don’t. You guys were kind to me, and I’m ashamed I didn’t give the wolves the benefit of the doubt,” I say.

Mary furrows her eyebrows.

“Did Alpha Caleb know this?”

I don’t know how I should answer that. It would look bad on Caleb if I said he knew and still chose to accept me as his mate and parade me around the pack. I understand why he did it to some extent, but I doubt the wolves will see it that way.

He knew I would never trust him if he came right out and told me what he knew. I’d think everything he said and did was a lie, and I’d still have tried to kill him. He tried to show me the truth instead, introducing me to his people and telling me that humans are told lies about who the wolves genuinely are.

“He knew I was affiliated with HPAW, but he didn’t realize just how deeply,” I say.

It’s mostly the truth.

I don’t think he knew my assignment was to kill him. He probably thought I was here to collect information and report to HPAW once I had what I needed. That was part of my mission, but not the entirety.

Mary stares blankly at me, and I tap my fingers against the back cover of my book before nervously clearing my throat and gesturing to the door.

“I should get going.”

She shrugs and turns away, and I slowly make my way outside, half expecting her to stop me and take the book away. She doesn’t, and I glance at it and my new library card a minimum of fifteen times while I drive back to my apartment.