“When it involves your well-being? Yes, I can.”
Evan stares up at me through burning eyes. “That is not fair.”
“Wanting you to be alive isn’t fair?” My lungs constrict as I raise my voice a little too loudly.
“You aren’t going to want to know me when you find out,” he heaves.
I shake my head. “That is not true.”
“I’m not perfect, Caleb!”
“And you think I am?”
We stare at each other for a long moment. The loudness of our voices echoes around the empty walls.
“Don’t make me do this, Caleb,” he says with trembling lips.
“You’re worrying me, pups. Nothing you could say will push me away.”
Tears rest in his eyes, but they don’t fall. “You don’t know what I’m going to say.”
“I know whatever happened is tearing you to pieces.” I lower my voice. “You have guilt, and remorse, and that says a lot; it’s killing you because you’re a good person, Evan.”
He shakes his head adamantly. “No. I’m not–”
“Everything okay in here, boys?”
I glance over my shoulder at the owner of the children’s home, and Evan quickly wipes his face. “Yes, Sierra. A little too busy talking.”
Sierra chuckles. “Oh, no bother. Caleb, could I borrow you for a second?”
I force a smile and nod before glancing back at Evan, but he’s already turned away. My heart sinks low in my chest, and I shouldn’t dig, but I believe a problem shared is a problem halved.
Although I think Evan has other ideas.
I wasn’t surprisedto find Evan gone after speaking with Sierra about the generosity of my pack in helping the district unite. I knew he’d run away from our conversation, but I’m not ready for it to be over yet.
When it reaches nightfall, and the pack has gone to bed, I head over to Jaxon’s pack house. I shouldn’t trespass, but I can’t risk them knowing Evan is my mate. Jaxon would understand if he found out, but I know how territorial and protective he is—like most Alphas are.
Before I left, I cast a spell with the help of the witches that protects my scent and presence from other wolves. It doesn’t work for long, but hopefully long enough to understand what’s going on with him.
I might be pushing it at this rate, but I’m not risking his safety anymore. He’s in a fragile state, and I fear isolation will make him spiral.
Flashbacks of my dream echo in my mind like shutter pictures. I close my eyes harshly to block out the blood and the tears. Ineverwant to see Evan like that. Not if I can do anything to help.
I climb up the pillar beneath his window and hurl myself up onto the ledge. My head peeks through the glass to find a dimly lit room. I expected him to be asleep, but he’s not in his bed.
Instead, he’s kneeling on the hard wooden floor, facing the mirror with his head down. I stare for a while, trying to figure out what he’s doing. After a minute or so, he wipes at his face and then stands, brushing something off his knees.
They fall to the floor, bouncing in different directions. I narrow my eyes to get a better look. That’s when I realise they’regrains of rice. He’s been kneeling on grains of rice. A low growl of anger and failure creeps through me.
Without hesitation, I shove open the window and step into his bedroom. Evan whips around to face me at the sound, and he blinks in surprise.
“Wha—” he cuts himself off. “What are you doing here?”
I gesture to the mess on the floor. “What are you doing?”
“I asked a question first,” he sniffles, and it breaks me to see his eyes so red.
