Chapter 31


    31


    CALLUM


    The tip of my pencil moves against the page in quick, sure, strokes as a Nine Inch Nails song sts


    through my earbuds, a heavy guitar rift drilling into my skull. The eyes I’m currently drawing are etched


    into my memory; surrounded in a fan of long, darkshes and brimming with sadness. I wish I’d never


    seen that sorrowful look in her eyes. I wish even more that I wasn’t the one who put it there. And I wish


    I wasn’t stuck in a masochistic loop of drawing her eyes like this over and over again, forcing myself to


    confront the cruel consequences of my actions.


    Sketching used to be my escape. Now, it’s my penance.


    I’m so in the zone that I’ve tuned out everything around me- I don’t even realize someone is knocking


    on my apartment door until the pounding grows more insistent, rattling the door on its hinges and


    causing pples to form in my water ss beside me. yank out one of my earbuds, jerking my ead up to


    stare warily in the direction of the oor.


    Whoever’s banging their fist against the >ther side clearly isn’t going away, and my nind immediately


    conjures up the worst- case scenario of who it could be. Fuckface has been blowing up my phone since


    I got back into town. I’m sure he’s figured out by now that I never put in a good word for Spence with


    our alpha before leaving, and he’s no doubt pissed about me failing to follow orders like a good little


    soldier. I wish I could avoid the guy forever like the gue he is, but he always seems to find a way to


    track me down.


    I have half a mind to keep ignoring the knocking at my door, hoping he’ll just go away, and I even go so


    far as to pick up my earbud and start to slip it back into my ear. Before I do, though, I hear a voice call


    out that stops me in my tracks.


    Her voice.


    “Callum? I know you’re in there.”


    My breath catches, my pulse skyrocketing.


    I tear my other earbud out, tossing them both onto the side table and shooting to my feet. My


    sketchbook and pencil tter to the floor, but I hardly even notice until I’m stumbling over them, nearly


    tripping over my feet in my haste to get to my apartment door. I can’t get it open fast enough; my heart


    pounds at a chaotic rhythm as I fumble with the lock, nearly tearing the door from its hinges when I


    finally get it open.


    The girl on the other side looks like a goddamn angel descended from heaven and dropped on my


    doorstep. Her light blue sundress contrasts with her glowing bronze skin, her dark hair swept back in a


    casual ponytail and her face makeup free. I swear Nessa has never looked more beautiful than she


    does right now standing in front of me, brown eyes wide and puffy lips slightly parted on a sharp intake


    of breath when our gazes meet.


    She’s here.


    I don’t know why or what it means, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Stunned into


    silence, I step aside and gesture for her toe in, her sweet floral and cherry scent assaulting my


    senses as she glides past me into my apartment.


    I kick the door closed, my eyes glued to Nessa as she wanders further inside, then spins around to


    face me.


    “I thought you might want this back,” she says, and only then do I realize that she’s got my sketchbook


    clutched to her chest, grasping it so tightly that her knuckles are white.


    “You can keep it,” I mutter, shoving my hands into the pockets of my low-hanging sweats and striding


    toward her with jerky steps. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”


    She arches a perfectly sculpted brow. “How many more?”


    I shrug, gesturing to the stack of sketchbooks on the small table beside the recliner. “Take your pick.”


    Nessa eyes the stack with curiosity, shuffling closer and running her fingers along the spines. “Are all


    the drawings like these ones?” she asks, depositing the book she carried in on the top of the stack and


    tapping the cover with a silver-painted fingernail.


    I swipe a hand over my chin, eyes roaming over her form appreciatively before meeting her own again.


    I probably shouldn’t be checking her out right now, but fuck, I can’t help myself. She’s gorgeous. “I told


    you before that you were my muse.”


    She turns away before I can read her reaction, sidestepping to peer up at the array of drawings taped


    to the wall instead. ” I need to know, Callum,” Nessa murmurs, her back turned to me. She suddenly


    spins around, her eyes zing with fierce determination as they lock with mine. “No, I deserve to know.


    After putting me through hell, the least you can do is tell me the real reason why you left.”


    I heave a sigh, pinching my eyes closed and raising a hand to rub my temple. “I want to, but…”


    “No,” she interrupts. Nessa moves toward me, eating up the distance between us in a few quick strides


    until she’s close enough to touch. She stares up at me in demand, pressing a palm to my chest, right


    over my pounding heart. “No more excuses. The truth, this time.”


    Her touch has me tongue-tied. I don’t respond, and my hesitation causes her demeanor to shift. She


    rips her hand away, and I immediately ache from the loss of her contact. Her eyes re in desperation


    and she folds her arms over her chest protectively. “Don’t you think I deserve to know?” she asks, a


    sharp edge to her voice that betrays her emotions. “Why’d you say you loved me only to walk out on


    me? Was I not enough for you? Was I not worth sticking around for?”


    I reach for her instinctively, my handsnding on her biceps and pulling her closer. “Not enough?!” I


    scoff angrily, hating her insinuation. “You’re more than enough. You’re fucking everything, Nessa.”


    She wrenches her arms out of my grasp, stepping back with fresh tears shining in her eyes. “Then why,


    Callum? Why’d you leave me?!”


    The pain in her voice slices through me, awakening an instinctive need to soothe it away. Without


    thinking, I move forward again, wrapping my arms around Nessa and yanking her into my chest. She


    doesn’t resist or struggle; instead, her body melts into mine, every soft curve of her meeting every hard


    edge of me. She buries a muffled sob in my t-shirt and I hold onto her even tighter.


    “I’m sorry,” I choke, pressing my lips to the crown of her head. “So fucking sorry. I should’ve stayed. I


    know that now.”


    For the past four months, I’ve ached to hold Nessa like this. I wish it was under different circumstances;


    that she was happy, rather than wetting my shirt with her tears. I soak up every second that I have her


    in my arms, though, because it could very well be thest time. I’ve already resolved toe clean,


    and after what I’m about to tell her, she may never let me get this close to her again.


    She allows me to hold her for another minute or two before she starts to wriggle away. Reluctantly, I


    relinquish my grip, my fingertips trailing down her arms until I take her hands in mine. Then they slip


    away.


    “You’re right,” I say, my shoulders. slumping in defeat. “You deserve to know.


    But you aren’t going to like what you hear.”


    I shuffle backwards to sink down onto the sofa and she takes the seat beside me, looking to me


    expectantly. I try to memorize the way she’s looking at me right now. Her eyes are so wide, so


    vulnerable. She doesn’t know the truth of who I am yet, and once she does, I have a feeling she’ll


    never open herself up to me again like she is right now.


    What’s that they say- the truth will set you free?


    For me, the truth feels like a death sentence. I can’t see a life worth living without the girl beside me in


    it.


    I drag in abored breath, rubbing my hands over my face and fighting against my frayed nerves. It’s


    time to man up and tell her, even if that means nothing will ever be the same.


    I’ve already fucked things up beyond repair, so what’s one more nail in my coffin?


    “Last year, there was a party up at the lodge,” I begin, diving right in. Nessa’s eyes stay trained on me


    as I recount the same story I told Chase, and even though it’s a special kind of torture to see her


    reaction y out on her face, I don’t look away. I watch as she takes it all in, and when I get to the part


    about how I killed the woman from Boulder with my bare hands, she sucks in a sharp gasp of rm.


    Still, she stays. She listens. She doesn’t interrupt me, and I go on. I tell her how Alpha Vaughn handled


    it and how Troy held it over my head after his death.


    “When we went to that dinner at my parents ‘house, Troy reminded me of what I’d done,” I grind out,


    my throat tightening. ” He reminded me that it could happen again, to you, and I just… fuck, I knew I


    couldn’t put you at risk like that, Ness.”


    A long pause hangs between us as she digests my confession.


    “That’s why you left,” Nessa whispers.


    I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “I decided that night that I had to. It was the only way to


    make sure that what happened to her wouldn’t happen to you. I’d never fucking forgive myself if I lost


    control with you like that.”


    Nessa worries her lower lip between her teeth, wringing her hands in herp. “But the full moon…”


    “Made it so much harder to do what I had to,” I grumble, shaking my head. “It killed me to walk away


    that night, but even the mate bond didn’t change the risk of staying.


    I had to leave to protect you from me.”


    She stares at me with wide eyes while I absently trace a fingertip over the little heart she tattooed on


    my wrist. “Do you get it now? Why we can’t be together?”


    “No.” Nessa pushes up off the couch, pacing away. She takes a few steps, then turns sharply and


    paces toward me again. I watch as she goes back and forth, practically seeing the wheels in her head


    spinning. I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands as I listen to her


    footsteps treading against the vinyl flooring.


    Suddenly they stop, and I lift my head to find her standing right in front of me, her arms folded tightly


    over her chest and her eyes rounded in sincerity. “You’d never hurt me,” she says resolutely. “Not


    physically. I know you wouldn’t. But leaving without a word? That hurt, Callum. It hurt so much.”


    I rise to my feet, reaching out to gather her in my arms. She falls into them, fisting my shirt and burying


    her face in my chest.


    “You said you loved me,” she whimpers, her voice muffled.


    I grit my teeth, holding her close. Hating the fact that I walked out on her and caused so much damage.


    The painced in her words makes something inside me crack open and bleed, and I just wish I knew


    how to fix it. How to make it better. “I still do, Ness,” I admit, feeling the thump of her heartbeat against


    my body, matching the steady thrum of my own. “I never fucking stopped.”


    She pulls back, sniffling, and I cup her face with both hands, angling it up to mine and staring deeply


    into her eyes. “I love you, but I’m a fucking monster.”


    “You’re not,” she breathes, covering my hands with her own and shaking her head. ”


    You made a mistake. That doesn’t make you a monster. I know you, Callum.”


    Fuck, there’s that wide-eyed idealism. Her way of seeing the good in everyone. I don’t deserve it.


    I blow out a breath, leaning down to press my forehead against hers. “You’re too good, you know that?”


    I grumble, sweeping the pad of my thumb over her lower lip. I sigh, my eyes sliding closed. “You


    deserve better.”


    I open my eyes to stare directly into hers. She knows the truth now, but she’s still right here. The fated


    bond between us is gone, but


    we’re still connected in some deep, meaningful way, like our souls still call to one another, her light


    drawn to my dark and vice versa. It doesn’t make sense. We don’t make sense. But fuck if I don’t want


    her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.


    We keep staring at one another for a long moment, drifting closer until our lips are a whisper apart. We


    both stop short there,


    lingering on the precipice, breathing each other’s air. Neither of us daring to be the first to cross that


    line.


    Then, in perfect synchronicity, we collide. My lips m against hers, my hands diving into her hair to


    tug her closer. Her hands grasp the back of my neck, fire flooding my veins as her lips part and her


    tongue finds mine. The kiss is messy, hungry, desperate. It’s like we’re both starving, bent on devouring


    one another, lips sliding urgently and tongues tangling recklessly.


    Kissing this girl is fucking everything.


    It feels likeing home.


    I stumble backwards, pulling her with me, and when the backs of my calves collide with the sofa, we


    both go down in a tangle of limbs. Somehow I manage to catch us, barely breaking the kiss as I roll my


    body on top of hers lengthwise on the couch. Her thighs part, my hips nestling between them as she


    grabs my face and yanks my lips back to hers greedily. I kiss her harder, like I fucking mean it,


    swallowing her responding moan.


    I feel a zap of electricity somewhere deep in my chest, a spark of chaotic energy ring for a


    millisecond. A glimmer of something familiar; something I’d thought was gone forever.


    Nessa gasps against my mouth, her palms pushing at my chest to shove me back. Her eyes meet


    mine, wide with rm. “Did you feel that?”


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    Fuck, she felt it too?


    My throat tightens, my mind reeling. All I can do is nod in affirmation.


    Her eyes widen further, a mixture of confusion and excitement swimming in them. “Do you think…?”


    “I don’t know,” I reply quickly.


    We both just stare at each other for a long moment, held captive in one another’s gaze. Both breathing


    heavily and silently struggling to make sense of what just happened.


    I’m the first to move, rocking backwards and freeing her to scramble out from underneath me. Despite


    the awkward position, Nessa does it gracefully, smoothing her dress down over her thighs and


    swiveling to set her feet on the floor. Her ponytail is hanging crookedly to one side of her head, her lips


    swollen from the intensity of our kisses, but I can’t even fully appreciate her adorably disheveled


    appearance right now- not when a thousand questions are pinging around in my brain.


    Her own confusion is apparent in her expression, reality mming back into both of us like a ton of


    bricks. That kiss happened in the heat of the moment, but things between us still remain unresolved.


    Though everything’s out in the open now, there’s still the issue of whether I trust myself enough to be


    with her. If we can work past that, then there’s also the issue of whether she’d even consider taking me


    back after everything I put her through. And who could forget the issue of my neighbor down the hall


    who may also be her current boyfriend?


    “I should go,” Nessa breathes, rising to her feet and adjusting the straps of her sundress on her


    shoulders. “I think I need some time to think about everything.”


    “Yeah, I get it.” I shove up from the couch, raking a hand through my hair. The air in the room is


    suddenly thick with tension.


    She goes to breeze past me, but I reach out to capture her hand. She sucks in a breath, eyes colliding


    with mine.


    “I’ll call you,” I say, giving her hand a little squeeze before releasing it.


    She nods, skirting past me and heading for the door.


    Even after I watch her leave, I’m frozen in ce, my mind reeling. Most of all, I’m trying to make sense


    of that strange jolt of energy we both clearly felt.


    It shouldn’t be possible, but… what if it is?