Page 49 of Callen's Captive
“You don’t want me, Callen. You can’t. I’m human.”
His hand, the one that had been slowly gliding up and down her arm suddenly stopped. “When I tracked you into Riverview, it took me a while to get used to being among humans again. Those bikers who looked down on me because of my skin color were nothing new to me. It wasn’t until I got to know you that I realized I was as bad as they were. They looked at me, at my skin color, the same way I had been looking at them, because they’re human. Different attribute, same ignorance.”
“Me? How did I make you realize anything?”
“As I got to know you, I didn’t see you as human anymore. You were simply Kate. That’s who you are to me, Princess. You’re Kate, a strong, beautiful if not frustrating woman who wants to save those who need saving and destroy the bad guys, so no one ever has to suffer again.”
All his talk about skin color, shifters, and humans was all well and good, but if he truly wanted her despite the fact that she was human, then he wouldn’t leave, even if the fate of his pack was in question. He’d find a way to stay, but that wasn’t going to happen. Nowhere in that grand speech of his did he say heneededher, only that she was strong and beautiful, and that hewantedher, like some people want beautiful paintings and artwork for their homes. She’d heard similar compliments from guys before, usually when they tried to get in her pants.
“My being human isn’t a problem for you?”
“Honestly? I don’t know what problems we’d have, but I know I care for you a lot.”
Callen cared for her; she had known that since the first time he risked his life for her. That didn’t mean he’d be able to live with a human long term. She cared for him too, and she knew Callen would be really good to her. But he had a pack to save and she couldn’t enter the woods again. She just couldn’t.
“Tell me more about your pack. Your friends, family.”
“My parents died several years back. I had a sister, Nadia. She died when she was eight.”
“I’m so sorry, Callen.” She gripped his hand, and he squeezed back.
“Shifters have a tendency to think they’re invincible, because we heal so quickly. We take risks we shouldn’t. Like you, Princess.” The way he said that, with pride and wonder and a bit of worry mixed in, made her heart race.
“That’s what happened with Nadia. She broke her neck falling from a tree she shouldn’t have been climbing.”
“If I’d known. . .” she began, recalling how she’d teased him about being slow and reluctant to climb into the treehouse.
Callen kissed the top of her head. “You didn’t know, and I’d rather not dwell on the past.”
“So, you’re an orphan like me.”
“I’m kind of old to be an orphan. And I have pack brothers. They’re not biological brothers, but we’re as close as the blood-brothers could be. Damien and I go way back to when we were kids. There’s Frank, Pryce, Hayden, and Blade.”
“Oh. Blade,” she said. Just hearing the shifter’s name made her tense. She wouldn’t forget what she had read about him anytime soon.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Callen asked, sounding defensive.
“I was reading some of the profiles on your pack.” She held up the pile of papers she’d laid beside her on the cot. “There was some stuff on Damien, Frank, and Blade. The one on Blade said he was a dangerous cutthroat who’s killed and tortured people for information and fun. Sounds more vicious than Briggs. The profile said he’s the pack’s. . .What was the term?” She rifled through the papers. “There it is. Enforcer. The guy that does all the dirty work, apparently. Poor Anna! To be involved with someone so soulless.”
Callen’s entire body tensed. “An enforcer’s job is to protect the pack, do whatever is needed, what others are too weak to do.”
“Including torture?”
“If necessary. Sometimes there isn’t a better option.”
“There’s always a better option to torture and killing.”
Callen’s hands loosened around her, which was a shame because she had felt all cozy and warm like she had been snuggling in a soft blanket on a cold winter’s night. The mention of Callen’s pack—the pack’s enforcer specifically—bothered him for some reason.
“Someone in the WSSO got the information screwed up. Blade’s a scout. He infiltrates secure or hard-to-access locations, gets information, and returns. Never touches anyone, except in self-defense.”
“Good. For Anna’s sake, that’s good.” She couldn’t put her finger on it, but suddenly she was tense again. That edge had returned to Callen’s voice. It felt like Callen was holding back some vital piece of information. “How well do you know Blade? I mean, is Anna really okay with him?”
“He’s a loyal shifter who would lay down his life for her. He is or was my best friend. There was. . . an incident between us recently. I didn’t handle it well.”
That explained it. He’d had a falling out with his friend. “Fix it when you get back, after you take care of what you need to do to protect your pack.”
“I think fending off the WSSO might be easier than fixing what happened between Blade and me.”
