The Light at the End of the Tunnel - 3. Chapter 3

Crack!

Bones popped. Tendons reformed, and ligaments stretched or shrank. Organs and muscles reorganized as Caleb’s wolf relinquished control. His eyes slowly opened, blinking as the morning sunlight seared his retinas.

Caleb winced as a dull ache radiated outward from his neck and shoulder and spread throughout his body. What the fuck? Gingerly, he stretched his toes, then extended his legs beneath the blanket covering him. A yawn caught him off-guard, the accompanying click loud in his ears.

He blinked again and took in his surroundings. While it wasn’t the walls of his cabin, the scent was familiar. Giles. He must be at the main house. His thoughts were foggy. The last thing he remembered was letting his wolf run. He’d stayed in the background while the animal instinctively took over.

An unfamiliar discomfort zipped along his neck as he turned his head. Unconsciously, his hand moved to rub itself over the flesh. He felt a new sensation—a ridge of raised skin, a healing keloid. A soreness remained, but it wasn’t painful, just a lingering dull ache. The memory, however, was another matter.

He couldn’t forget the searing heat as a bullet ripped through his flesh, nor the foreboding chill that overtook his body as his blood flowed out. It still lingered. He didn’t need to rely on imagination to recall the thrum in his ears as it ebbed, weakening with every beat of his heart.

How was he even alive?

“Hey there, Caleb,” Giles said as he entered the room. “It’s good to see you awake. You gave us all quite a scare.”

Caleb didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say. He wished the bullet had done its job.

“Would you like some water?” Giles asked.

When he nodded, the Alpha poured a glass from a pitcher he hadn’t noticed before. The liquid was cool and soothing as it relieved his parched throat. Setting the glass on the table beside him, he asked, “What happened?”

“You were shot by some poachers when your wolf ran along one of the arroyos in the northern part of the territory. You were lucky Asa saw what happened and found you. Doc said you were in pretty rough shape. He also said Asa saved your life.”

Already, Caleb wasn’t a fan of this Asa guy.

“I don’t remember too much.”

It was the truth, for the most part. The pain of the bullet tearing through his flesh looped like an instant replay while everything after was muddled and confusing. He remembered feeling cold. The chill spread through every aspect of him, right down to his bones. He also recalled a blinding, white light. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he was knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door as the song went. He expected the fiery heat of Hell.

Giles’ lips thinned. “Hmm, I was hoping you might remember any details so we can try to track down who did this. Even if they’re human and thought they were shooting a genuine wolf, they were doing so illegally.”

“No. Sorry. It happened so fast. Besides, you know as well as I do our wolves aren’t sticklers for details.”

"I’m going to get Doc so he can look at you. While he’s doing that, I’ll rustle up some food for you. You must be hungry."

Caleb nodded, knowing anything else would be met with a protest. It was easier to agree.

Solitude was a precious commodity that Caleb needed to take advantage of before they bombarded him with good intentions. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, trying to relax his damn body.

“I hear you’re awake. How are you feeling?” Santos asked as he entered the room.

Caleb sighed at the intrusion. “I’ve been better. Sore, but it’s not too bad.”

“Good. Let me take a look, if you don’t mind.”

Caleb nodded and allowed the doctor to examine the healing wound. He winced as the man probed a sensitive spot on his neck.

“Sorry,” Santos took a step back, giving Caleb space. “Overall, your wolf has done a good job of healing the wound. It looks much better. It was rather nasty when Asa brought you in. Another few days, you should be as good as new. I’d like you to stay here another night, just to make sure. Despite your progress, you’re weaker than you think. I want you where someone can keep an eye on you in case you need help.”

“Only if I can get up. I don’t want to be stuck in bed all day,” Caleb said. The thought of being bed-bound made him nauseous. The idea of needing help was even worse.

“That shouldn’t be a problem as long as you take it easy. I’ll check on you tomorrow. If things are still good, you can return to your cabin—however, no riding for a week. You lost an incredible amount of blood. Even with your wolf’s help, you still need to rebuild your strength,” Doc instructed.

Shit! Eclipse! Momentary panic set in as he remembered he had left his horse tethered to the brush near the dry riverbed.

“Where’s Eclipse?”

Doc smiled. “He’s safe. Jorge and Asa went and got him. They took care of him last night, and Giles had him, and that rascal donkey of yours brought up to the main barn. They’re out in the paddock, keeping the other horses company today.”

Relief flooded through Caleb. The horse and donkey were the only living things he cared about. He hated to think about the beautiful Palomino getting hurt because of his stupidity. He already had enough of that in his life.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Giles.”

“Thank me for what?” Giles asked as he entered the room with a tray laden with food. The smell of coffee hit Caleb’s nose, causing his nostrils to flare appreciatively. He tossed the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“For taking care of Eclipse and Hank. Thank you,” Caleb said.

Giles set down a tray on the desk under the window. “It was no problem. That little shit, Hank, has been chasing the new foals all morning. They’ll be a tired bunch by this afternoon.”

Tentatively, Caleb shifted his weight and stood. He wobbled slightly as he tried to stand. Giles was there, lightly grasping his elbow to steady him.

“Easy. Lean on me if you need to. It’s only a few steps.”

Caleb ignored the Alpha’s offer and steadied himself, then shuffled the four steps from the side of the bed to the desk’s chair. The scent of oatmeal, blueberries, and bacon enticed him to sit down and tuck in. He hummed appreciatively as he took a bite of crispy bacon.

Doc packed up his things. “Call me if you feel any new pain or get dizzy or lightheaded, okay?”

He grunted, unable to speak with a mouthful of coffee.

Giles stepped out, presumably to discuss Caleb’s marching orders from the Doc. There went his chance of slipping out of here. Doc was undoubtedly relaying his instructions to stay put and take it easy. Dammit!

When Giles returned, Caleb shoved the last spoonful of oatmeal and blueberries into his mouth. Swiping a napkin across his face to catch any wayward bits of food, he glanced up at the Alpha.

“If you can spare a change of clothes, I’d like to shower, if you don’t mind,” Caleb asked. Even though someone had cleaned him up, he could still smell the coppery scent of blood, not to mention feeling the stiff strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

“Sure, we’ve got plenty of spare clothes hanging around. Do you prefer jeans or sweats?”

“Sweats, please.” He might as well be comfortable if he had to spend the day hanging around doing nothing. He walked down the hall toward the guest bathroom, his mind still trying to make heads or tails out of what had happened. How had things gone to shit so quickly?

Caleb left the bathroom door unlocked so Giles could drop the clothes off for him. The water warmed up quickly, and he stepped under the spray, sighing as the heat dispelled the last of the remaining chill. Reddish-brown liquid ran down the drain as he soaked his head. He stared at it as it swirled around, whirlpooling into obscurity. Taking the shampoo bottle from a shelf, he squirted some into his palm and lathered the offensive remnants away. Immediately, the smell of wood and musk filled his nostrils. Weekend in the Forest, the label read.

Who the fuck thinks of this shit? Is a weekend in the forest so different than a weekday that it needs a shampoo named for it? He snorted at the thought.

The door opened on the other side of the shower curtain as Giles brought him clean clothes. The soft snick of the latch was the only indication he was alone again. Thankfully, the body wash was regular old Irish Spring. It wasn’t long before he felt clean again.

The pipes clanged when he shut off the water. Grabbing a towel from the bar, he dried himself before donning the clothes Giles left. New boxer briefs hugged his supple ass as he pulled up a pair of black sweatpants, pulled on the drawstring, and tied it against his waist. The gray t-shirt was loose, hanging from his frame, whereas a year ago, he would’ve burst the seams.

He hung his towel over the bar to dry before padding into the hallway barefoot. Voices came from the kitchen, so he went the opposite way. Stepping onto the front porch, Caleb walked around the corner and settled into an Adirondack chair, his knees almost level with his nose. Too lazy to get up and move to a more comfortable seat, he leaned back and rested his head.

Despite having slept all night, it wasn’t long before he fell into a semi-stupor, aware of his surroundings but only semi-alert. It may have been why he was startled when Luke’s voice hit his ears.

“Hey! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” his friend said.

“You didn’t scare me. I just dozed off for a minute. I’m more tired than I realized.”

“How’re you really doing? None of that bullshit you hit Doc and Giles with. Tell me the truth.”

The truth? The truth was Caleb didn’t know how he felt. Physically, he was tired and sore, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t felt before. Mentally? Emotionally? He was all over the place. Coming close to death didn’t give him the clarity it gave others. He still felt blackness and despair threatening to crush his soul.

Everyone heard stories of people who had a near-death experience and how it changed their entire outlook on life—often giving them a sense of purpose where none existed before. Caleb couldn’t relate. Self-loathing still crowded out any shred of positivity he could hope to harbor somewhere inside himself.

He thought of his promise to Giles about seeing a therapist after the round-up. He knew it wouldn’t help. No one, anywhere on this earth, could take away his guilt. It shrouded him with its darkness. There was no good way to explain to someone how bleak and worthless he felt.

Luke asked for the truth, but Caleb knew he wasn’t ready to hear it. His friend still remembered the old Caleb, who was trustworthy and honest. That man ceased to exist the day he decided to betray his pack. So he veiled the lie behind the truth.

“I’m just plain old, okay. My neck throbs, and I feel like I could sleep another week. Doc says it’ll take a few more days, but I should feel better soon. I hate being a burden to you guys.” There. No lies. Omissions didn’t count.

Luke plopped down on a wicker ottoman facing Caleb and raised one eyebrow. Silence hung heavy for a moment before he spoke. “You’re not a burden. If you pulled your head out of your ass long enough, you’d see that you have an entire community ready to support you.”

Caleb’s eyes prickled. Not because Luke’s words touched him, but because if Giles’ pack knew the truth about how cowardly he was, they would run him off pack land in a heartbeat. The only ones who knew the whole story were Luke, Giles, and Jorge. Though they would never voice it, he could feel their disapproval whenever they looked at him. Even now, Luke’s gaze felt white-hot– like iron from a forge branding him with a guilty judgment.

Regardless of how he felt, he nodded. Words weren’t necessary. Luke had been his best friend since childhood, growing up together in Montana. Luke’s family moved away when they were fifteen. His mom wanted to be closer to her aging parents to look after them. They drifted apart for several decades but reconnected with the advent of texting and social media. Over the past twenty years, they’d fallen back into the same camaraderie they had when they were kids. That is, until his stupidity led to his fall from grace.

When his college roommate’s Alpha wouldn’t grant sanctuary unless he agreed to immediate therapy, Luke was the only one Caleb knew he could turn to. He would’ve called him first if not for the overwhelming shame and embarrassment.

“I know. Please don’t think I’m not grateful because I am. I appreciate everything you and Giles have done. There are still a lot of things I have to sort out. After the round-up, I promised Giles I would talk to a therapist.”

“That’s great news! It’s a step in the right direction, for sure. So, I know you’re committed to being a pain in the ass for a while, but I told Giles I’d give you a hand for the next few days as you regain your strength. I’ll bring some fresh hay bales to your barn for your large and small creatures.”

Caleb snorted, which brought a grin to Luke’s face.

“I took the liberty of rifling through your fridge and pantry. Hell, Caleb. Nothing screams bachelor like frozen dinners and boxed mac-n-cheese. Didn’t you leave college behind eons ago?” Luke chided.

Caleb felt his face heat up. He hadn’t cared about his diet since before leaving Montana. Food wasn’t a priority, which was a leading factor in all his clothes being too big now. His only decent meal was brunch or dinner at the mandatory Sunday pack gathering.

“Anyway,” Luke continued. “I’m going into town to do a grocery run. Any special requests?”

He shook his head, then stopped as his brain reminded him of a sudden craving he’d had all morning. “Uh, yeah. Can you pick up some extra-sharp cheddar and club crackers?”

Caleb wasn’t sure why he suddenly craved that kind of cheese. Sure, he liked it, and as far as cheese went, he usually didn’t care. He knew his mind would hyper-fixate on it until he gave in to the urge. It wasn’t often he felt an overwhelming need to partake of a particular food, but until he had it, it took over his thoughts.

“Sure,” Luke chuckled. “I’ll also make sure you rekindle your relationship with fruit and vegetables. Not the canned variety either. Your cupboards are lacking fresh stuff. I might even agree to come by and fix a few things and freeze them. If Mikey knew about the state of your food inventory, she’d kill you.”

Smiling, Caleb couldn’t disagree. Mikey was Jorge’s mate. Her real name was Misha. Originally from Russia, her family emigrated to the States in the late sixties during the Cold War. Fifty-some-odd years had softened her accent only a little. She was the chief meal planner for the pack.

“Well, you’re not gonna tell Mikey, are you?” Caleb challenged, knowing his friend was teasing.

“Pfft. You don’t scare me. Now Mikey, on the other hand. That woman scares the shit out of me!”

Caleb rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion with his hands. “Go. Let me rest. Pick up whatever you think is best.”

Luke gave him a mock salute before sauntering away. As Caleb closed his eyes again, he heard the clomp of Luke’s boots going down the porch stairs. A minute later, the sound of a truck’s engine started. He could picture dust kicking up in its wake as the vehicle drove down the lane.

Alone again, Caleb let himself relax. The throbbing in his neck still bothered him, so he rubbed it absent-mindedly. He heard voices inside the house but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Giles was probably taking care of pack business. He was one of the busiest men Caleb had ever met. Only Sebastian McTire was busier.

With nothing but idle time on his hands for the rest of the day, he couldn’t help letting his thoughts stray to his old pack. He wondered how everyone was doing. Especially Vann. Thinking about his son always hurts Caleb’s heart. How he wished he’d been able to be the father the boy deserved.

The distance he put between himself and his son ate at his every waking moment. Despite wanting to tell Vann the truth, Caleb knew deep down he’d made the right decision. Vann didn’t deserve to be labeled as the kid whose father was a traitor. Shifter kids were no different than their human counterparts when it came to acceptance. Cliques formed and constantly changed, depending on the whims of hormonal teenagers.

Vann surely had enough on his plate, recovering from the trauma of his kidnapping. Caleb was confident Sebastian and Reilly ensured his son had the love and support he needed. The boy didn’t need to know his biological father was the worst person in his life.

Caleb let his thoughts drift. As usual, none of them were good. He was relieved when he heard footsteps approaching. Shifting his ass on the wooden seat, he opened his eyes and saw Giles.

“You don’t exactly look comfortable,” the Alpha remarked.

“I’m too tired and sore to haul myself up,” Caleb replied, wincing as his back protested the change in position.

“Here.” Giles extended his hand. Caleb took it gratefully and allowed the man to haul him up. His back cracked loud enough that it sounded like a gunshot. He tensed as the memory of being shot hit him in full force.

“Are you okay?”

Caleb didn’t deserve the concern he heard in Giles’ voice. Forcing himself to relax, he replied, “Yeah. Getting old sucks.”

Giles chuckled. “You don’t know old yet. I’ve got at least fifty years on you. Just wait until your back does that every morning when you get out of bed. We can talk about getting old then.”

The comment hit Caleb in a way he didn’t expect. Giles spoke as though he believed Caleb would still be around in another fifty years. He didn’t know what to make of it.

Once upon a time, he believed a happily-ever-after was possible. He once dreamed of finding his mate or even someone to share his life with. Before the shitshow that rained down on him, he still thought it was possible to tell Vann someday he was his father. Maybe even foster that relationship and expand his family with more kids.

Now, those dreams were mere wisps of fragile memories–gossamer threads broken by reality. He could no more picture having a mate and a family than he could see himself running for President of the United States.

Caleb sighed. “Some days, I feel older than Silas and Rosalie combined. A considerable feat seeing how they have over thirteen hundred years between them.”

“Still, you’re relatively young. You have plenty of good years ahead of yourself. You only need to figure out what direction you want to take yourself in. No matter what mistakes you’ve made in the past, you have a fresh start here. I hope you know that. You have a good heart, Caleb. You may have strayed from your path, but if you can find the strength to forgive yourself, you’ll discover an entire future in front of you. It may not be the one you pictured, but it’s still yours. You need to figure out a way to grab it.”

Giles silently let his words sink in. Caleb frowned. How could he grab onto a future where he only saw himself as worthless?

“Come on, Mikey has homemade chicken soup and sandwiches waiting for us. I swear, if that woman ever decides to leave, I will hog-tie her and Jorge and hold them hostage. Otherwise, the pack would starve.”

Caleb couldn’t find fault with that statement and followed Giles into the house, where the tantalizing scent of chicken and noodles permeated the air. For the first time in a while, he found himself hungry.

Several members of the pack greeted him and inquired about his well-being. He made small talk while enjoying a thick sandwich and the scrumptious soup. For a brief moment, he could pretend things were normal.

Giles’ phone chirped with a text soon after they finished eating. He read it, then looked at Caleb. “It’s Asa. He’d like to know if it’s okay to stop by and see how you’re doing. What do you want me to tell him?”

Caleb appreciated Giles asking him before responding. He was tired and had a slight headache. He wasn’t up for socializing, yet was reluctant to be rude to the man who’d saved his life.

“I’d like to take a nap for a couple of hours, if that’s okay. I’m rather tired and not ready for company. Tell him if he wants to stop by later, he can. I just need some rest first.”

Giles nodded, then tapped out a reply. Several moments later, his phone chirped with a response. “He understands. He’ll check back later today, and if you’re feeling better, he’ll stop by. Otherwise, he’ll check in again tomorrow.”

Caleb sagged in relief. His neck ached, and all he felt like doing was closing his eyes. He nodded, then excused himself. It took the last of his reserve to walk down the hall and ease his weary body into the bed. It didn’t take long before sleep claimed him, temporarily banishing the relentless throbbing.

He wished he could say his dreams were pleasant. Like so often now, the disjointed, over-the-top, life-sized CGI images that whipped through his brain had him dazed and confused, even within the confines of his dreams. Without being conscious of doing so, he tossed and turned, kicking off the covers as a light sheen of moisture glazed his skin. His wolf whimpered in protest.

With a start, Caleb bolted upright, fragments of discord following him into wakefulness. His pulse and breathing were elevated as the tendrils of his nightmare clung stubbornly to his mind. He tried to calm himself.

Breathe in—count to four. Hold—count to four. Breathe out—count to four. Hold—count to four.

Repeat.

Slowly, his heart settled into a normal rhythm again. He didn’t remember what his dream was about. He never recalled the details, only the sense of emptiness that accompanied them.

Thankfully, the headache that had been brewing abated with his nap. He snagged his phone off the nightstand and was surprised to see it had been nearly three hours since he’d laid down. Sitting up slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

In the bathroom, he pissed, washed his hands, and splashed cold water on his face. Reaching blindly, he managed to snag a towel off the bar and patted his face dry. The mirror reflected a haunted-looking man. Turning his back on the visage, Caleb returned to the guest room and pulled the covers over the mattress, restoring it to a semblance of order.

Giles was in his office as Caleb walked down the hall. The alpha looked up when he noticed Caleb in the doorway.

“Caleb! Come in. How’re you feeling?”

God, he was getting sick of that question. “A little better, thanks. My neck doesn’t hurt as much.”

“Good. Santos called to see how you were doing. I’ll be sure to call him back. Asa called again, too. Would it be okay if he stopped by? I told him you were healing well, but he says he’d really like to see for himself.”

Caleb’s brows drew together. “What’s his deal, anyway? Why does he feel so responsible for my recovery?”

“I can’t speak for him, but if I had to guess, it would be because that’s the type of man Asa is. He’s a caring individual. I see it in the way he handles the horses. I think he may feel obligated to see for himself that you’re okay. At least physically,” the Alpha added.

“Fine. Tell him he can stop by. I don’t need anyone else worrying about me.”

Giles didn’t respond to Caleb’s statement other than to type out a message on his phone. A moment later, he read the response. “He’ll be here in an hour.”

“I’ll be on the porch again. In a real chair this time.”

Giles smiled at his attempt at humor.

Before going out, he stopped in the kitchen and drank two glasses of water before filling the tumbler a third time and bringing it outdoors with him. The afternoon was balmy, and early spring was in full force with the sun shining brightly overhead. Birds were chirping and chittering in the trees, protecting their nests. In the fields, the lowing of cows could be heard.

Caleb settled in a gliding rocker this time, facing the corral where Eclipse and Hank were hanging out. The little donkey was lying in the grass, tuckered out from his morning playtime with the new foals. He counted six gangly-legged newborns. Their dams stood protectively as they stood over their offspring as they rested.

Watching the animals in the pasture soothed his nerves, which were still on edge from being shot and from his dreams. He wasn’t aware of how much time had passed when he heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the lane. A minute later, the sound of a single door shutting reached his ears.

On the other side of the wall, Giles greeted their guest. Caleb stood, not wanting to be at a disadvantage when his so-called savior was introduced. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened.

As soon as Giles rounded the corner with Asa behind him, Caleb realized several things at once. First, the scent of ozone hit him. Sharp and acrid, like the immediate aftermath of lighting streaking across the sky during an intense summer storm. Accompanying it was the underlying hint of wintergreen. Not like the candy mint, but rather the real thing—a sprig poking up through freshly fallen snow. Crisp and cold.

Second, his wolf pushed his way forward and howled, Mate!

Third, panic, as the realization struck. No! Absolutely not! Caleb wasn’t ready for a mate. He didn’t want this. He didn’t deserve it. How could he love and care for a mate when he couldn’t stand himself?

No. Not now. Not ever. Caleb couldn’t think, so he did the only thing he was capable of.

He ran.