Page 39 of Forced Knocked-Up Mate

I don’t want to be in there, warm, safe, and normal. I belong out here, in the shadows, with the vicious creatures and evil things.

Even though I repeat this thought to myself over and over, it won’t stick. My wolf fights against me, wanting to go inside and be part of that warmth and comfort.

I can’t fight this.

Slowly, I go up the stairs and shift right at the back door, touching the doorknob gently. The sound of a child laughing shocks me, and I peer through the window to see Caleb sitting at the kitchen table with Fiona and Rider.

I find my clothes where I left them, in the grass by the gate. Then I go up the steps and knock softly as I come through the door. Everyone looks up at me with a warm smile, but it is Caleb’s expression that blows me away.

“Uncle Pete!” he cries, his eyes lighting up with joy. The boy hurls himself across the room, coming at me like a torpedo and leaping into my arms. His little body wraps around my waist, forcing me to catch him as I stagger against the wall.

“Whoa, little buddy! You almost took me out.”

“I missed you!” he says, grinning up at me. “It’s so wild that you look just like Dad.”

“Yeah. We used to pretend to be each other when we were very little.”

“Wow,” Caleb’s eyes shimmer as he looks at me with awe. “I wish I had a little brother. Can I have a brother, Mom?”

“I’m working on it, son,” Fiona laughs.

“How does that even work?” Caleb asks, and every adult in the room clears their throat and swiftly changes the subject.

Caleb wraps his tiny hand around mine and leads me to the table. While the others talk, he pulls out his action figures and shows them off to me, explaining their features and the cartoons they come from.

“Did you watch cartoons when you were little?” Caleb asks, holding up a transforming mech warrior. “What ones did you like?”

“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t get a chance to watch much TV.”

“Why not?”

Well, kid, I was running for my life most of the time, or trying to stay warm, or find food.

“Oh,” I say again. “I just never really got into any of the shows. I moved house a lot.”

“Dad told me,” he says, sounding solemn. “Like, he said he didn’t really have a home, and that’s why he wanted to make one so badly.”

“But… didn’t he spend most of his life by himself? I thought he didn’t meet you until a short time ago.”

“That’s true,” Caleb says, sounding wise beyond his years. “Dad had a lot of wolf stuff going on over the last few years.” He looks around the table, his eyes darting to Rider, Fiona, and Lucy. They are deep in conversation and not paying much attention to us. “The adults always want to keep stuff from me,” he says. “But I hear things. Over the last few years, scary stuff happened when the wolf packs fought. I know my dad was involved in some of it. But the first time I ever saw him was right before he kicked the bad guy’s butt.”

Caleb pauses to look over at Rider. The little boy’s blond hair glows around his innocent young face like a halo, and his eyes are so much like mine.

If mine had never seen so much murder, pain, and death, maybe then we would look the same.

The way Caleb looks at his father actually causes me pain, and I can’t explain it. It feels like my sternum is being cut open by a buzz saw.

“I knew then that my dad was a good guy. A hero. He had always been a good guy, you know? It’s just that no one ever gave him the chance to be good. When he was finally up against the villain and had to protect me and Mom, that’s when he became the hero.”

Caleb’s eyes are shining with pure, innocent light. I have no doubt that he’s applying principles learned from his cartoons to a real-life situation, but even so, I don’t think he’s wrong.

Before I can think of an answer, Caleb turns those shining eyes back on me and grabs my hand with both of his. “Just like you, Uncle Pete! You’re a good guy, too. All you need is to find the right thing to fight for, and then you’ll be a hero, just like Dad.”

The pain in my chest increases, and to my horror, my eyes burn with unshed tears.

I can’t remember the last time I cried, and I’m not going to start now.

“Thanks, Caleb,” I say, trying not to let my voice crack. “It’s nice of you to believe in me.”

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