Page 24 of Callen's Captive
“I have plenty of confidence.”
He raised a brow.
“Okay, maybe I’m a bit shaky when it comes to some things.”
“Like relationships?” Hell, it wasn’t like he was an expert or had a lot of experience holding onto a girl for more than a few days. “Why did you hide that file back in the print shop, the one with the anti-shifter propaganda?”
“It was offensive.” She lowered her eyes as she eased away from him.
There it was. Anytime the topic of him being a shifter came up, she pulled away. He hadn’t been imagining it. “I’m a grown shifter. I can take insults.”
She shrugged and turned from him, uncertainty in her eyes once again.
“Don’t turn away from me,” he demanded.
“It wasn’t something you needed to see.”
It was the same reason she had bought him a shirt, the same reason she had kissed him to keep him from seeing the slur on his chest—to protect him.
“Why did you rescue me back at the school? You could have escaped. Hell, you should have. You didn’t know me, not enough to risk your life.”
Her eyes snapped to him. “Is that how it is among shifters? That you have to know someone to save them? Because if that’s how your alpha runs things, he’s an asshole.”
Callen let the comment slide. “I’d defend Damien with my life. As I would you. Because you’re both worth it.”
She poked a finger in his chest. “You don’t know me, Callen. You have no reason to sacrifice yourself for me. None. Get that? So, don’t get any stupid hero ideas in your head the next time the WSSO finds me, because when th—”
Callen captured her mouth, pressing his tongue against her seam until she opened. She was everything he’d hope for and more. The silky softness of her lips felt like the first snow of the season. Exciting, peaceful, wondrous, and unique.
In that moment, he wasn’t an enforcer who needed to project his strength and intimidate others, or even a protector who would fight to the last breath to defend his pack. He was simply Callen, the guy who needed a chance to love and be loved, to be accepted for who he was without any condemnation, any sympathy, any expectations other than to be true to himself.
Like with everything she did, Kate was testing him, his mettle, his intent, his desire. As the kiss slowed, her body molded to his. His hand eased down her back, preventing her from pulling away too soon. He held her there, large eyes focused on him, searching for something as his wolf paced, ready to prove himself but unsettled at the same time. She was like a lone wolf, independent strong-willed and able to survive without a pack because she’d had no choice. Callen had to give her that choice, show her what she could have, that life could be so much better with others to count on to protect her—to love her—instead of this life of constantly running from the enemy.
A bullet whizzed by their heads. Callen threw Kate to the ground and covered her with his body. Cars screeched to a halt, kids and adults were screaming and running in all directions, adding to the confusion in the residential neighborhood.
“Run,” Callen yelled to Kate as he raced toward the shooters. Glass windows and windshields shattered as bullets sprayed the area, following Callen down the street, away from Kate and the kids that had been playing outside. Sirens sounded in the distance, but they were becoming faint, heading in the wrong direction. When the shooting stopped, Callen ducked behind a tree and spotted a sniper on a roof three houses down. The man was tracking someone with his rifle. Callen followed the line of sight, right to where Kate was crouched behind a parked car.
