The weight of the situation pressed down on me as I sat in the back of the SUV, my knee bouncing in agitation. The confined space was suffocating, not because of its size but because of the company. My former best friend sat in the driver's seat, his mate beside him, both too composed for my liking. Beside me sat a council enforcer in his stiff black uniform, his presence like an immovable wall. His finger tapped to the rhythm of some Arianna Grande song, the beat incongruously cheery in contrast to the tension radiating through the car. Meanwhile, I stared at my hands, my thumbs absently circling each other as I desperately tried to map out a way to escape this mess.
But I had nothing. For all my scheming, I hadn't anticipated this. My escape plan had been ruined by the forced mating bond. The mark on my skin was like a brand, chaining me to the bastard who dared to claim me without consent. If I ever laid eyes on that mutt, I'd make sure he regretted it. Permanently. My nails dug into my palms at the thought, but I kept my expression neutral. The last thing I needed was for Justin or his precious mate to think they had the upper hand.
The sun dipped lower in the sky, its orange glow streaming through the trees as they blurred past the window. The fiery light painted the interior of the car in warm tones, but I felt none of its comfort. My focus was on the road ahead and the burning resentment in my chest. Whoever this idiot was who thought marking me was a good idea had no clue who they were messing with. Submit to some stranger? Be the docile little wolf they probably expected? Hell would freeze over first.
"You can stop scheming," Justin said, his voice sharp and irritatingly familiar. He adjusted the rearview mirror until our eyes met, his piercing gray gaze boring into me like he thought he still knew me. "I know that look on your face too well. Aren't you tired of running away from your problems?"
I let out a scoff, leaning back in my seat with a bitter smile. "If it gets me away from you and your crazy-ass pack, then no. Not in the slightest."
Justin shook his head, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "I don't understand you, Caleb. Are you so determined to spend the rest of your life running? Looking over your shoulder, always alone, because of fears you've built up in your head?"
"Spare me the self-righteous speech," I muttered, my gaze locked on the trees flying by.
Justin didn't stop. He never knew when to quit. "I agree we could've handled things better back then. I'm not denying my mistakes, and I'm truly sorry for the part I played. But, Caleb, you have to understand—what happened wasn't just about you or me. The outcome... it changed everything. You can't even begin to imagine the positive effect it's had."
I snapped my head toward him, my jaw tight as I glared. "The positive effect? That's what you're going with? How many times are you going to throw that excuse in my face?"
Justin didn't flinch. His grip on the wheel tightened, and he continued, his voice softer but no less grating. "Ishmael is a joy. He's brought the packs together in ways no one thought possible. The alliance between our people has never been stronger because of him."
The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Ishmael. That was his name. My son. The knot in my throat tightened, and before I could stop it, a tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly, clenching my fists to stop the trembling. Orion stirred in my head, his whimpers echoing my own grief.
Justin didn't notice, or maybe he pretended not to. His smile was faint as he spoke, as if recounting some fairytale. "He's brought so much happiness, Caleb. To everyone. You'd be proud of him."
"Good for you," I hissed, my voice sharp enough to cut. "At least my suffering wasn't wasted, right? That's the important part."
The smile faded from Justin's face, replaced with a hardness I recognized too well. "That's on you," he said, his tone firm. "If you'd stayed, you could've been there for him. You could've had a relationship with your son."
I lunged forward, the seatbelt biting into my chest, but before I could get too far, a strong hand pressed me back against the seat. I snapped my head toward the enforcer, his expression blank but his grip unyielding. "Get your damn hand off me," I growled.
The enforcer lifted his hand but didn't bother hiding the warning in his eyes. I turned my glare to Justin, my voice low and seething. "What kind of relationship? Huh? Do you think he would've ever seen me as his mother after what you and your mangy pack did?"
Justin opened his mouth, but I didn't let him speak. "He was taken from me before I even had the chance to hold him. You gave him to Katelyn's family like I was nothing more than a fucking incubator. Do you have any idea what that did to me? Do you?"
"You were a surrogate, Caleb," Justin said, his voice quieter now but no less infuriating. "You still could've been in his life."
I laughed, bitter and hollow, as I turned my gaze back to the window. The sun was slipping behind the mountains now, painting the sky in hues of deep red and purple. "Sure. I could've been in his life. Watching someone else hold him. Watching someone else be the one he called 'mom.' Do you think I wanted that? You think I could've endured that?"
Silence filled the car, heavy and oppressive. I could feel Justin's eyes on me through the mirror, but I refused to look at him. My voice dropped to a whisper, the words barely audible over the hum of the engine. "I didn't ask for any of this."
The car rolled to a stop at an intersection, the quiet stretching between us like an unbridgeable chasm. For a moment, all I could hear was the faint tapping of the enforcer's finger against his knee and the rhythmic ticking of the turn signal.
"Caleb," Justin started, but I cut him off.
"Save it." My voice was cold, devoid of any emotion. "We're not going to have some heartwarming moment here, Justin. You made your choices, and I've made mine. Let's just get this over with."
The car turned onto another road, the fading light casting long shadows over the trees. I leaned my head against the window, the glass cool against my skin. Orion's voice rumbled softly in my mind, his tone uncharacteristically subdued. "We'll get through this. One step at a time."
I closed my eyes, letting out a slow breath. One step at a time. But with every mile that passed, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being led to a fate I'd fought so hard to avoid.
**********
The Scarlet Woods pack. Just hearing the name made my stomach churn. I glared daggers at the wooden sign as we drove past it, its bold, neatly carved letters standing out like some kind of cruel reminder. Welcome back to hell, Caleb. I didn't need a sign to tell me where we were. The dense sugar maple trees, the suffocating air of superiority, and the faint scent of the ocean mingling with pine—it all screamed Scarlet Woods.
The tires crunched against the gravel road, the sound grating on my already-frayed nerves. The path twisted and turned like some kind of cruel joke, leading us deeper into the forest. Each bend made me feel more trapped, the looming trees pressing in on both sides. I could almost hear the whispers of the pack echoing through the woods, their judgment already sharpening into blades to carve me apart the moment I stepped out of the car.
And then, as if the forest decided to give way to ostentation, we rounded the final bend, and there it was—the packhouse. Except calling it a "house" was like calling the ocean a puddle. It wasn't a house; it was a damn fortress disguised as a five-star resort. The colossal building rose out of the trees, its pale cream walls glowing like it had been kissed by the fading sunlight. I squinted at it, half expecting it to sprout a crown.
The slate roof gleamed with an almost arrogant sheen, its sharp angles giving the place a stately, almost regal air. Rows upon rows of windows lined the front, polished to a mirror-like perfection that reflected the fiery hues of the sunset. Even the sunset seemed like it was putting on a show for the Scarlet Woods pack. Typical.
The driveway stretched out before us like a runway, flanked by towering pines swaying lazily in the breeze. It wasn't just a driveway; it was a grand procession path. I rolled my eyes at the unnecessary dramatics. Because apparently, arriving here without being dwarfed by their sheer superiority wasn't an option.
And, of course, the ocean sat smugly in the background, glittering like a jewel under the fading light. The view was the kind that belonged on a postcard or in some luxury travel magazine, not as a backdrop to my nightmare. A couple of yachts dotted the horizon, their sleek forms gliding effortlessly over the water. Because obviously someone here just had to own a yacht—or ten.
As the SUV rolled to a stop in front of the grand entrance, my stomach twisted in knots. The weight of unseen eyes bore down on me, the kind of heavy, silent scrutiny that made your skin crawl. I didn't have to look to know they were watching. Pack members were probably lined up somewhere, eager to catch a glimpse of the traitor who dared to defy tradition and run. The air practically hummed with anticipation.
I groaned, rubbing my forehead as if that would somehow make the situation disappear. But no amount of denial would erase the sea of familiar faces gathered on the wide steps leading to the entrance. The former Alpha and Luna stood at the top, their presence commanding as always, though the smugness radiating off them was almost nauseating. My family stood front and center. Why not add another layer of humiliation to this charade?
Liam and Alisha were there, of course, looking every bit the picture-perfect couple with two kids huddled at their sides. My gaze flicked over to Luke, and I nearly choked on my disbelief. There he was, standing beside a shorter man holding a toddler on his hip. Luke, the same guy who used to torment anyone even slightly different back in school. A homophobe turned family man. I almost laughed at the irony. Life has a twisted sense of humor, doesn't it?
Then there was Lillian, off to the side with her entourage of mean girls. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Some things never change, and apparently, Lillian's penchant for being a bitch was one of them. My parents stood at the center of it all, my mother's face alight with something I couldn't quite place—relief? Regret? Hope? It didn't matter. None of it mattered.
"Let's go, Caleb," Justin's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door. "It's time to face the pack."
I snorted, crossing my arms as I slouched in my seat. "If you think I'm going to kiss their feet and beg for forgiveness, you're out of your damn mind. They can shove their apologies where the sun doesn't shine. I don't owe them anything."
Justin leaned down to peer at me through the open door, his gray eyes sharp but tinged with something softer—pity, maybe. "It's not as bad as you think it is," he said, his tone almost soothing. "They're worried about you, Caleb. When you left, it tore the pack apart."
I barked out a laugh, the sound harsh and bitter. "Oh, sure. I'm the villain in their little drama, and yet they're the ones who broke me in the first place. Spare me the 'family' speech, Justin."
He sighed, the sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the suffocating silence. He shook his head before circling to open the door for his mate. What a gentleman. The sarcasm practically dripped off me as I rolled my eyes again.
Then, suddenly, my door opened. My breath caught as I looked up, and there she was—my mother. Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she stood there, her lips trembling in a way that made my chest tighten despite myself.
"Welcome home, son," she said softly, her voice cracking just enough to betray the weight of her emotions.