Oh, Goddess. I’m home.
I sob into his shoulder as he holds me, a hand clasping the back of my head, fingers sliding into my curls. My hands grip the back of his T-shirt, and I inhale his gasoline and wild berry scent, one I’ve missed more than I can comprehend.
“Oh, pups,” he whispers, and I cry harder.
“You’re here,” I gasp for breath as I clutch the back of his head and feel his hair against my skin. “You’re really here.”
He nods into my neck. “I’m here. I’m home.”
We stay like this for a while until he places me down onto the floor, and I peel myself off him. I stare at his slim face and frown. I reach up and place my hand against his cheek. I can’t stop the tears as they leak down my face, frustration bubbling through my veins at an alarming rate.
Caleb’s expression crumbles, and we clutch onto one another again, sinking onto the floor until we’re on our knees. When I pull back this time, I take a good look at his beautiful face.
“What did he do to you?” I whisper, fury shaking my body.
Caleb could never look bad to me, but he looks different. He’s lost a lot of weight, and his eyes are almost lifeless and dull. Skin ghostly. It looks like months of neglect. It destroys my soul.
“It doesn’t matter right now,” he murmurs.
“It does matter,” I state. “Are you okay?”
Caleb twists his head to kiss my palm. “All I needed was to see you.”
I sniffle at the contentment that washes through me. It’s intense, even without our matebond. I’ve been mourning it day and night—my safety blanket. But I don’t need a matebond when I feel this much for him.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I rasp. “I am now.”
He presses his forehead against mine and wipes away my tears. “He’s gone,” he says as he cradles my face. “He’s never going to bother us again.”
My heart lurches. Gone?
“H-how?”
“I killed him,” he says gravely. “I made him pay.”
I exhale a quivering breath. “It’s over?”
Caleb nods with glassy eyes. “It’s over.”
I lean up on my knees an inch and press my lips to his, tasting our tears mixed together. A sigh of need and despair wracks through me.
It’s not a dream. It’s real. He’s real.
I break away to cry again, unable to keep myself together. We stay wrapped up in each other's arms, and I grip onto him for dear life.
64
CALEB
Ibury my fingers into Evan’s curls.
My mouth is twitching as I press my face into the curve of his neck, and inhale as deeply as I possibly can. The scent I’ve been desperate to remember over the months of imprisonment, when all I could smell was damp and sewage.
He is my comfort. Where I belong. The key to my heart.
Evan pulls back and cradles my face as I study his tear-stained cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispers. “C-can we go upstairs to talk?”
