When I don’t say anything, he eases his shoulders a bit, dropping that smug undertone. “Let me make you something.”
At this moment, he doesn’t feel like the Alpha, or the man who broke my heart. Instead, he just looks normal, like he’s trying. Trying for me.
I don’t know what to do with that, or the care that seems to come with it.
“Is this supposed to fix everything?” I ask finally, voice sharp out of sheer self-defense.
“No,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving me. “It’s just a meal.”
I huff out a breath, well aware that it’s more than reasonable. “Stop trying to be nice.”
The corner of his lip just barely pulls before he stands up fully and begins back inside. “I’ll try harder to be infuriating.”
I scowl. “You already are.”
But given the flicker of amusement that travels down the link again, I have the feeling I’m far less intimidating than I want to be.
***
After forcing myself to eat the quick meal Caleb made for me, the rest of the afternoon passed in waves of awkward silence, accidental eye contact, and even more silence.
Every time I think I’ve found the courage to confront him even more about our past, the bond pulls at me, and my resolve crumbles. And by early evening, the tension in the cabin is unbearable.
I step outside to breathe and clear my head, picturing the forest path leading me home. Not to Caleb’s house, but tomyhouse, regardless of how modest it is. Regardless of the danger surrounding it now.
But even from out there, I can still feel his presence through the bond, low, steady, and simmering just beneath the surface.
It feels like I’m being haunted by someone still living, and no part of me was ever prepared for this.
I don’t even know how much time passes before I return inside, finding Caleb already sitting on the side of the bed like he’s lost in thought, wearing a pair of joggers and a plain tee that looks far more relaxed than what I’m used to seeing him in.
He rubs a hand over the back of his head before glancing at me. He looks almost vulnerable, and I hate how it makes my stomach twist.
“Lila,” he starts quietly, “we need to talk.”
My words dismiss the thought before my heart has the chance to interfere. “I don’t want to.”
“Too bad.”
Catching me with his arrogance, I look at him in disbelief. “You still think you get to order me around?”
“I’m not trying to,” Caleb murmurs, though his words are edged with the subtle command he can’t always turn off. “I just… I need you to understand that I’m not trying to trap you.”
I huff out a breath, but it lacks any genuine humor. “That’s exactly what it feels like.”
He sighs and absently rubs his hands together. “I know. But I’m not your enemy, and I don’t want to be.”
“You weren’t supposed to be before either.”
That brief quiet is far heavier than I want to contend with, but I still can’t bring myself to move anyway.
He swallows hard. “I can’t change what I did. I know that.”
“No, you can’t.”
I half expect that to be it, but Caleb stands from the bed and takes a step towards me, followed by another until I can physically feel the room shrinking. My heart thrums, and the bond pulls even tighter.
He stops, leaving a step between us, and his gaze focuses on me with such a startling intensity that my throat goes dry.
