Chapter Seven
Caleb closed his mouth and looked away. A confession like that should have had him scared. He couldn't fight this man. Not in the shape he was in. He couldn't even stand. Even if he were completely healed and in peak physical condition he would have a tough time taking the man on. Asher had a body that looked like it was used for hard labor. None of his muscles were designer. The firm planes of his body were a byproduct of survival. Caleb wondered how long the man had been out here alone.
Not exactly alone. He had a pack of wolves that he'd yet to explain. "Did you bring the dogs up here with you?"
Asher looked confused at first. "No. I found them a few years back, a litter of puppies, thin as twigs and full of worms. Their mother had been killed by a bear, I suspect. I took them in. Thought they would heal and go along their way, but they've stayed." He shrugged like it wasn't the coolest thing in the world to live with an actual pack of wolves. Caleb thought, being a shifter would make him less impressed, but the differences between a shifter wolf and a real wolf were as many as the differences between a go cart and a semi-truck. They weren't really the same thing at all.
"They listen to you," Caleb said, wondering if Asher expected him to obey as well. He would be very disappointed if he did.
"They know it is their choice and I don't ask anything unreasonable."
Caleb wanted very much to point out that Asher had just told him he was going to live in the woods and serve him, but wasn't sure if something like that would make the man angry.
Asher went back to dressing the wounds, thankfully none of them were in such a precarious spot as the one on his upper thigh. Despite having thought of every disgusting and boring thing possible, he'd been unable to stop his erection.
There was something to be said for what Asher had brought up. His body did respond to the older man's in a way that was completely unfamiliar. But was it a mating? Caleb had always thought mating would feel comfortable, like coming home after a very long, tiring stay away. This was much more consuming. He felt warm all over. His injuries still hurt, but when Asher touched him, the pain was less.
After Asher had dressed his arms, he stretched them out, experimentally at his side. "I feel so gross. You wouldn't happen to have any way for me to get clean, would you?"
Asher had his broad back turned and Caleb felt brave enough to finally get a good look at the man, past his body type. Though, that was impressive. He had brown hair that was long and unruly, but not as unruly as one would imagine from a man who has lived a long time in the forest. It was maybe a few inches long, thick and wavy with bits of grey sprouting through, particularly on his temples. He had a beard that was also more carefully trimmed than Caleb would have thought.
Asher turned, reminding Caleb of his most striking feature. His eyes, jet black, like pools of water at night. Caleb was barely able to make out his pupils, his irises were nearly as black.
When Caleb looked at Asher's mouth, noting his lips were neither thing nor big, he also saw that Asher was smirking. Caleb looked away quickly, even though it was clear Asher had already caught him checking him out.
"I could help you to the river, but it would wash off all of our hard work. And I don't think you want me so close to your dick again."
Caleb's mouth popped opened at his crass language.
Asher's smirk morphed into a full smile and then a frown. "How old are you, boy?"
Caleb stiffened. "Twenty-three. How old are you?"
Asher's frown disappeared, cleared by Caleb's answer. "I'm not entirely sure. I came to these woods when I was fifteen and that was...many years ago."
"Why?"
"That is a story for a different time," Asher said and although he had spoken gently, Caleb could tell that conversation was over. He got the idea that this man didn't give anything he wasn't willing to. He'd have to be tough to live for so long up here.
"If I can't shower, can I maybe stretch my legs? Do you have something I could wear?"
"You don't need clothes," Asher said in a way that managed to make him not seem pervy.
"I would prefer it," Caleb replied. Asher went to the corner of the cabin and opened the lid to an old trunk that was nearly falling completely apart. Caleb noticed much of one of the leather straps looked like it had been gnawed off.
"The first winter was the hardest," Asher explained when he noticed Caleb staring. "I'm not sure now how I lived through it. Sheer determination I suppose."
Caleb wanted so badly to ask again why Asher had seen fit to scale a mountain at fifteen and live there.
"These should fit," he said, holding out a pair of loose shorts and a button up shirt. He didn't hand them to Caleb though. Instead he brought them over and held the shirt in his hands. Caleb stuck his arm out and Asher slipped the shirt on over and around his back, letting it fall loosely on his shoulders. The fabric was soft, but it still scratched against the cuts on his shoulders and upper arms. He hissed at the pain. "We'll leave this part unbuttoned," Asher said patiently.
Caleb understood now why Asher had said he didn't need clothes. They hurt way worse than wearing nothing. But, he was determined to put them on. Having that barrier, as thin as it was, would help him feel more in control. Even if that feeling was false. It was important.
Caleb tried to take the shorts and put them on himself, but Asher held them out of reach. He shook his head at Caleb's outraged expression and then bent slightly with the shorts in his hands so that Caleb wouldn't have to try and stand to slide in. He slipped Caleb's splinted leg in first and then Caleb held onto his shoulder as Asher helped him lift his left leg up and in. Asher was warm and strong under his palm and Caleb bit the inside of his cheeks hard to try to keep from getting yet another erection in the man's presence. He tasted blood in his mouth, but his dick obeyed so it was all worth it. Asher helped him slide the shorts over his hips and then pulled the waist of the pants up and tied the drawstring. The shorts were a little big on him so when he stood with Asher's help, they hung low. Caleb wondered how large fifteen-year-old Asher had been.
The simple act of getting dressed had exhausted Caleb but he still wanted to walk around—as well as he could—and get his bearings. He clung to the wall and took the first step. His leg gave out from under him and he cried out in pain. He slammed his lips together at the last minute so he wouldn't seem so weak.
"Come here, boy," Asher said angrily. He hauled Caleb to his side and lifted him so that he was still upright but not quite standing on his two feet. Asher carried most of his weight instead. "If you are so bent on walking, despite the pain and broken leg, then let's walk," he muttered harshly.
Caleb wanted to shrink back from Asher's frustration but if he did he would fall over. Instead, he settled his weight in the older man's arms and took his first step outside.