Page 130 of Callen's Captive
Chapter Twenty-Six
KATE
The funeral pyres lit up the moon-filled sky. Crying and sobs filled the area. Kate couldn’t find the words to comfort Callen, or any of the shifters. They had suffered a terrible loss. Valerie, a nineteen-year-old who had so much life yet to live, and Max, a forty-year-old with three children ages ten, eight, and two. The presence of the moon was a comfort, Callen had said. It meant the spirits of the dead shifters wouldn’t be trapped by darkness, despite how they had died.
While the notion was lovely, it didn’t comfort Kate, not at all. Nothing about death was comforting.
Kate’s hand went to Callen’s, and he wove his fingers through hers, tighter than usual. His face was a mask of emotionlessness, but she knew he was hurting. Facing him was almost as unbearable as facing Valerie’s parents or Max’ mate and children. Kate had done this to them, stolen their loved ones. No one blamed her; they didn’t have to. She knew the truth. The WSSO had only been there because of her.
As Kate and Callen left the pyres, the whispers began, except now she could hear them, as well as Callen. She suddenly realized how much he had pretended not to hear their comments before, to spare her. Now the comments weren’t that she was human trash. She was a shifter, one of them, except not. According to them, she wasn’t just any shifter; she was one ofDrake’sshifters. The white was the dominant wolf color of his pack, and few white wolves existed outside of Drake’s pack. White wolves were rare, apparently. Yay, lucky her. One more strike against her.
She would never be one of Callen’s pack. There would always be questions about her loyalty, her intent, her reason for being among them. And yet, she couldn’t entirely fault them. If she no longer knew who she was, how could they?
Hands locked together, she and Callen walked toward the center of camp. Neither of them was ready to sleep, and Callen had this pent up energy and rage that he refused to acknowledge. During the day, after the news of the deaths had reached them, he talked to no one, except if a security question arose.
When they reached the charred remains of one of the two cabins Briggs had burned, Callen led her in past the debris and pinned her up against one of the crumbling walls, holding her hands in one of his above her head. Her breathing hitched as his eyes traveled down her body. Yellow eyes blazed with more than sexual need. He needed to control.
“A penny for your thoughts?” she said, casually, wishing he’d release her hands, so she could touch him, feel that special connection that came when her hands slid over the hard planes of his chest. She so needed to feel the raw power of his arms holding her in the midst of all the tragedy, but this wasn’t about what she needed. Callen was the one hurting.
He tore open her shirt and stared at her without touching. The cool air washed over her, making her all too aware of how he stared at her breasts. Callen exuded his control as he kept her hands pinned above her head. He would decide whether or not to touch her, merely look at her, or claim her in the open, for anyone to walk by and see their fill. She suspected that was the point. Not to humiliate her, but to regain some control in his life.
“There was nothing you could have done to prevent this,” she said, the sorrow in his eyes breaking her heart.Suddenly her mouth was on his, her tongue searching for his, her own need exploding in her chest. She didn’t want to lose him, but it was inevitable.
His mouth tore away from hers. “You’re hiding from me again,” he said, even as he cupped one breast, his thumb rolling her nipple.
She hadn’t answered his questions about her being a shifter because she didn’t have the answers. What’s more, she wasn’t sure she wanted them.
Callen latched onto a breast. She arched her back, pushing into him as heat pulsed from where he nipped her taut nipples. He yanked her pants down, fully exposing her to the cold night air. Anyone who walked by would see them, adding to the sense of vulnerability she already had. Yet for as naked and trapped as she was, she felt incredibly protected as Callen slid into her and covered her body with his, shielding her from any prying eyes, from the wind and cold, from the ability to escape him. He was staking his claim on her in a way he hadn’t done yet. His cock drove into her hard and fast, his hips crushing her against the rough log wall as he seized her mouth, possessing her, owning her.
Callen was pounding into her, releasing his rage and frustration over Valerie’s death, over the WSSO destroying the peace and sense of security of his pack, over his inability to protect what he cared about most, his pack, her. This was the Callen who wouldn’t give up on her, leave when she told him to, even when she’d given up on him. This was the Callen who’d lost two shifters today, who blamed himself, and didn’t know how to grieve the loss. He needed to control something in his life, even if it was just her.
It wasn’t the first time she’d felt Callen’s emotions. The bond he’d spoken of was real. She’d been feeling it for some time, always like an echo in the background that called to her, but she’d never understood it before. A window indeed. Callen’s window had been shut at her end. She’d only felt faint vibrations of him through a vibrating pane.
After she’d shifted, the window had pulsed with life and needed to be opened for her to experience fully all that was Callen. The window was hers to control now. She could open it wide and see into his soul, or close it to shield him from what she was feeling. He hadn’t told her that part, but it had become clear when he had heard the news of the dead shifters. A sudden burst of pain had crashed into her, stealing her breath. Instinctively, she had slammed the ‘window’ shut to shield herself from his overwhelming grief. Then slowly, she’d opened it again. She couldn’t let him suffer alone. His pain was hers, except she didn’t know how to help him.
She dug her fingers into his back, holding on as the intensity of his thrusts increased. Love, need, and fear poured through the bond, practically swallowing her whole. He didn’t realize how rough he was being, how the logs were scraping her back through her shirt. He kept one hand behind her head, protecting her in the only way he knew how. Despite the pain in her back, her body responded to him, searching for that peak that seemed so close yet so far. Then his other hand was there, against her clit, launching her over the peak with such force she felt her core grab hold of him as if she’d never let go.
As her muscles started to relax, he found his release. Strong fingers dug into her hip as he gave one last thrust and held her, his seed spurting into her. “Never leave me, Kate.”
The desperation in his voice mirrored the need coming across the bond. Both gutted her. He was speaking out of grief and a sense of helplessness. Time would heal those.
As he eased out of her, she couldn’t help the slight whimper that escaped her. Loss came in all forms; this was but one. They had already experienced the greatest loss today, forever changing so many lives. She couldn’t help but stare at the moon, wondering what power it held as suddenly she knew exactly what her future held.
“I’m sorry,” Callen said, leaning his forehead against hers.
She was still standing there, with her pants around her ankles and her shirt torn open in the freezing cold. He’d taken her hard and fast, as if he couldn’t help himself. All that emotion that he’d been holding in had to go somewhere. He didn’t know how to deal with loss, at least not this one. He removed his shirt and slid it onto her.
“You deserve better than a quick, hard fuck against a burned out building.”
Charred logs and the scent of ash surrounded them. Somehow it seemed appropriate.
“None of it was your fault, Callen. Valerie and Max. . . That’s on the WSSO. But you can honor them by learning from what happened, changing things, so it doesn’t happen again. And never let anyone forget them.”
Her shifter, always so brave and strong, broke down and cried on her shoulder. She held him tight, pushing as much love as she could across the bond, hoping it would help him. He pulled back suddenly, eyes wide.
“The bond. . .”
“Yeah, it’s there,” she said. Elation now, wonder, more confusion, and some trepidation traveled the bond. Callen’s emotions were all over the place.
