Chapter Fourteen
One moment the big, brown wolf stared at her, his ears almost comical as he cocked his head. Everything about his manner reminded her of some oversized German shepherd, which didn’t gel with the man she would have sworn she was falling for underneath. A werewolf. He was a werewolf.
Werewolves only existed in books and movies. Then they were monsters. Terrible. Awful. Monsters.
Not all of them.
She’d read a couple of series where they were lusty guys, and another where they were a magical defense against vampires.
Vampires—oh God. She was going to be sick.
Bolting from the bed, she rushed into the bathroom. Behind her came that sickening crunch of bones from earlier when he’d first turned in the wolf. She made it to the toilet in time to dry heave. Nothing came up, but her stomach cramped and the pain left her pitifully weak. Everything about this whole thing was insane.
Cage was a wolf.
A sound at the door pulled her attention, and she sank down against the cool tile and met Cage’s worried gaze. The raw sensuality of his nudity distracted her so she forced her gaze to stay at his chest and higher.
“Are you okay?” The solemnity of his question shouldn’t have made her laugh, but a chuckle escaped. Then another.
She laughed until she was gasping, one hand pressed against her mouth. The longer she laughed, the more worried he appeared. Somehow, that struck her as even funnier. Like a bottle of soda shaken too hard, once she’d begun to fizz and pop, she couldn’t seem to make it end.
Squatting in front of her, Cage didn’t make any move to grab her. The worried frown just cracked her up all over again.
Wheezing, she fought to speak. “You’re a wolf. You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever met. Sexy. Perfect. Too perfect—I’ve been trying to figure out what flaw you could possibly have—and it turns out it’s not so much a flaw as a huge, huge whammy.”
Gasping for breath, she pressed her hand against the cold floor. The chill braced her. Even her brain felt like it was on fire.
“Bianca…”
“Wolf or man? Which were you first?” Because she had to understand this. She had to put it in context. If she’d cracked—oh, was that it? Had she cracked? Cage opened his mouth to say something, and she held up a finger, asking for silence.
When he obeyed, she turned the last few hours over in her head.
“I’m running a fever. It has to be a high one; I can’t seem to cool off. Yet I keep trembling.” The hand she’d held out asking for him to be quiet shook. “Fevers are bad, they cook the brain.”
“Bianca…”
“Shut up,” she snapped. Hallucinations really needed to do what they were told. It was bad enough she was having one. His expression went from mild to tense, then his eyes narrowed. Huh. Her delusion didn’t like her snapping at him. Too bad.
“Fevers are bad, because they overheat the brain.” She resumed her earlier recitation. “I need to bring the fever down. Hallucinatory reactions are normal in exceptionally high fevers.” Her mouth was dry, and her stomach had stopped rebelling. “That makes so much more sense than you being a wolf.”
“Babe,” he sighed, and distress hummed in the word. “You are not hallucinating.”
“You see, that’s what I would expect a hallucination to say,” she said, then reached for the counter to pull herself up. First things first, she needed to get her body temp down. Suddenly, Cage gripped her and hauled her to her feet easily. Then he lifted her onto the bathroom counter.
Could a hallucination move her without her assistance? Disbelief coiled in her gut. This was a setback. Eye to eye with him, she couldn’t look away from the warm brown of his eyes.
His eyes.
The flecks of amber.
The wolf had amber eyes with flecks of honeyed brown in them.
They were like the most spectacular gemstone.
“No. No. No.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head back.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and ripe with emotion. “I should have found an easier way to show you. You have to believe me; the last thing I wanted was to hurt you, Bianca. I adore you.”
“I don’t want to believe you,” she admitted. Defeat had her shoulders sagging, and she finally met his gaze. “But it’s right there in your eyes. The wolf had amber eyes and sometimes—I thought I was imagining it. We would be having sex and your eyes, they’d glow with this amber light.”
“That’s because my wolf adores you, too.”
“Okay, stop right there,” she ordered, pressing a finger against his chest. “I can barely deal with you right now, so let’s not bring your wolf into it. Can we?” Was this her life? Was she really having this conversation?
“It’s hard not to bring him into the conversation. He’s as much a part of me as I am of him.”
“So are you one being or two?”
“We’re…one,” he said, then braced a hand on either side of her on the counter. “I will answer every question, but right now I need to take care of you first. It is driving us…me…crazy that you’re hurting and uncomfortable.”
“Well, when I have a mental breakdown, you’re going to be really not happy.” Their conversation defied sanity to begin with.
“You’re not having a mental breakdown.” The first hint of a smile on his luscious mouth aggravated her, but only because she wanted him to be every bit as perfect as she’d imagined.
“Feels like one.” Not unreasonable considering they were in her bathroom in her spontaneously bought home after she’d been kidnapped by guerillas in a foreign country and apparently rescued by a wolf—who was also in the military. “Wait…you’re a Marine.”
“Of course, I’m a Marine.”
“So you can’t be a wolf.” Made total sense to her. His raised eyebrows and placating smile dispelled the hope, though. “Right?”
Blowing out a breath, he tucked her hair behind her ear. “I am a Marine, and I am a wolf. These are not mutually exclusive.”
“You’re not even going to work with me here?” Denial would be a much happier place for her right now.
“I can’t, Bianca. This is too important. You don’t have to be scared.” Calm tone aside, the last sentence reeked of misdirection.
“Yes, I do. Because you are.” How she knew that was true, she had no idea but confronting him seemed to be her only option.
He blinked once, the action so owl-like she had to fight another bubbling wave of giggles. “I’m worried about you,” he began, and it was true. Just not the whole truth.
“I’m worried about me, too,” she agreed with him. “But don’t sugarcoat it, you’re terrified. I’m just not sure if it’s because I’ve finally cracked or if it has to do with this whole werewolf thing. Speaking of which, am I one now? Have you turned me into a werewolf? Am I going to howl at the moon?”
Cage growled. It wasn’t the first time he’d released that vocal vibration at her. Her toes curled because the sound still sent a wild shiver through her. Thumping him on the nose may not have been her smartest move, but it was supposed to work on dogs.
The sound rumbling in his throat ceased and he stared at her.
“Sorry, don’t growl. I’m going to assume that’s rude.”
He placed a finger against her lips, silencing any further words. “Bianca Devlin, you are a beautiful, intelligent, and utterly infuriating woman. I am going to answer your questions, but to do that I need you to actually let me answer them.” With a light hand, he pressed it against her forehead. “Your fever also seems to have gone down. How is your stomach?”
Considering him for a moment, she toyed with the idea of not answering. That would be childish, and passive-aggressive. Two things she tried very hard not to be. “I don’t think I’m going to be sick anymore.”
“Good. Are you hungry at all? Need something to drink?” Then he tilted his head, and she was reminded of the wolf all over again. So many of his mannerisms, they’d all had a wolf-like wildness to them. Yet he was so immeasurably perfect, generous, and kind. Was that the wolf? The man?
“Coffee.” With a stiff shot of whiskey. “With something bracing in it.”
“I think we could both go for that,” he agreed. “Can you walk, or would it be better for me to carry you?”
“I’d prefer to walk, but I’m weak as a kitten.”
A flash in his eyes at the cat reference, and she remembered the earlier comparison to a tiger. He hadn’t liked that, either. No wonder—he was a dog, not a cat.
A dog.
Another laugh escaped, and she had to press her hand over her mouth to try and contain the sound. Exasperation rolled off him in waves.
“Woman, you never told me you had such a twisted sense of humor.”
“Well, to be fair,” she said, managing just barely to get her giggles under control, “you didn’t tell me you were a wolf.”
“Touché.” Cradling her cheek with his palm though, he stole through her defenses. “Let’s start this conversation again. Everything I already know about you, I adore. I want you to know me the same way.”
He was asking her to trust him. Trust in him. “Okay, I might need some help to get downstairs because I really need that drink—and you should put some pants on because you’re too damn distracting.”
A flash of a smile curved his lips and lit his face. Her heart gave a little squeeze at the softness in his expression. There was the man who’d been charming her for over a week, who’d made a place for himself in her life and whom she’d missed terribly for the three—or was it four—days he’d been gone.
“Pants. Then downstairs for coffee.”
“With something extra,” she reminded him.
“With something extra,” he repeated. Leaning in, he brushed a light kiss to her lips that left her tingling. “I’ll be right back.”
As promised, he was only gone for a couple of minutes. The time let her gather her composure. Her manic laughter faded, and she traced the bite mark with her fingertips. The skin still felt hot to her, the discoloration still red and angry, but the ridging was stiffer. Was it going to scar?
Cage returned dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. The power in his thighs might still distract her, but the shirt had been a good call.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she admitted, but gave him a smile to assure him. He was nearly as nervous as she was, maybe more. The discomfort rolled off him in waves. Another weird fact to file. She might be good with people, but assuming their mood wasn’t usually in her wheelhouse.
Cage slid an arm under her legs and another against her back, then lifted her as though she were light as a feather. Looping her arms around his neck, she studied him as he carried her downstairs. The weakness dragging at her limbs weighed her down.
Once they made it to the kitchen, he settled her on one of the stools. “Is this okay?”
“It’s fine,” she said, leaning against the counter and folding her arms. The cold felt great against her flushed skin.
“Good.” He paused, caressing her face. “I know you don’t believe me, but everything is going to be okay.”
“Because you say so?” Challenging him might not be politic or polite, but she couldn’t help it. Not after everything.
“No, because even when the worst crap happens, there’s always a lighter side. I fucked up. I made a mistake. I don’t know if you can forgive me. I might never forgive myself. I never meant to bite you; I was trying to get that man off you. I’ve replayed the moment a thousand times in my head. I didn’t want it to be true, and I may have screwed things up for you.” His gaze went to her wrist. Guess that answered her question. So when did she go furry? “But I’m also going to be here for you, every step of the way. I’m going to make it better. So, yeah, it’s going to be okay.”
“I like your confidence.”
He moved around her kitchen with comfort and ease. The man was as at home there as she was. The familiarity offered some odd sense of comfort. Coffee brewing filled the kitchen with a delicious aroma. While it brewed, he made a pair of sandwiches and didn’t hesitate to load them up. Recalling her odd appetite over the last few days, she didn’t argue when he set the overstuffed sandwich right in front of her.
“That looks good,” she told him, and even though her hands were still trembling, she went ahead and took a bite while he watched. He worked through his own sandwich, and they both kept their gazes on the coffee pot. It was like they had to wait for the last drop to fall before they could continue down the odd, erratic little yellow brick road they wandered on.
So did that make her Dorothy or Toto?
A chuckle escaped and she nearly choked on her food. At Cage’s quizzical look, she shook her head. “You really don’t want to know.”
“Maybe.” He set his half-eaten sandwich down, then filled two large mugs with coffee before reaching up to claim the bottle of whiskey they’d purchased but never opened. Unscrewing the top, he added a generous measure to both.
She approved. Not that there was enough liquor in the world to wash the story down.
When the coffee was in front of her, she finished the rest of her sandwich, uncaring of how rapidly she’d eaten it. Every bite made her feel better. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she hadn’t been eating enough?
Not sleeping enough?
Not being told enough truth?
Lifting her coffee mug she held it out to him. “To—?” What the hell did they toast to? Seriously? To utterly destroying her life? To turning her into a wolf? For real? Did she really want to celebrate?
“To us,” Cage said, not missing a beat. He touched his mug to hers. The first drink was hot and soothing. It did wonders for her throat and helped steady her nerves. Maybe she should down the coffee then switch to whiskey straight.
A lot of whiskey.
“To answer your earlier questions,” Cage began, the command in his manner demanding her attention. “I was born as I am. Most wolves are. We are both man and wolf—or woman and wolf. It is as much a part of me as I am of him. Yet, the animal is more basic.”
Basic? Not really sure how to respond to the statement, she took another drink.
“I have awareness in my wolf form, I remember who I am, who you are. It’s natural.”
Said the supernatural being. Biting the inside of her lip kept her from giggling like a loon all over again. The wild desire to laugh or cry—definite warning signs of hysteria.
The corners of Cage’s mouth quirked and he searched her expression. He’d picked up on her wholly inappropriate humor.
“Sorry,” she managed, then took another drink. The whiskey definitely helped with the nerves. “Go on.” She just had to hold it together long enough to get the whole story.
After a slow nod, he took another drink. “There are nine packs in the United States—my pack is here in Texas, and parts of New Mexico and in Mexico itself.”
“You meant it when you said you grew up here.”
“Yes,” he said, with a small smile. “I didn’t lie about everything. I know that may be hard to believe, especially considering what I didn’t tell you.”
“Yeah, what you failed to mention is pretty monumental, but we’ll get to that. Go on. You have a pack?” A pack. Her week-long fling was a wolf. He had a pack. It was like Say Yes to the Dress only gone Nature Channel wrong on so many levels. Fending off nervous laughter seemed to be becoming her thing.
Before he could continue, however, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” he told her. “Stay there.”
She wasn’t sure she could move, so she downed the rest of her coffee then reached across the bar for his. Hot coffee or not, it tasted fantastic and the whiskey was even better.
Danger swept over her—apprehension, unease, and then the door opened.
“Papa?” Cage said, and Bianca jerked around.
Papa?
There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world for her day.
“Invite me in, hijo,” a man said in a deep baritone, which washed over her and left her shaking. There was presence, and then there was whomever was at the door. “Now.”
…
Alarm rang through Cage as he stared into his father’s dark brown eyes. It was like looking in a mirror to the future. Of equal height with his son, Reuben Castillo wore a well-tailored suit in steel gray. Wealth and success threaded the power draping him like a cloak. The suit was even more of a warning than his father’s presence. It was a weekday, and his father worked the land on the family’s extensive ranch. Jeans and T-shirts were his usual attire. The only reason he wore suits were for business meetings and church.
“Do not make me repeat myself, hijo.” Command punched up every syllable.
“Please, come in, Papa.”
What the fuck was his father doing there? Cage fisted the control over his wolf. Their father was also their alpha. They could not defy one without defying the other—and it had often led to contention between the two over the years. Not the least of which when Cage volunteered for the team.
“Gracias.” Reuben slid his hands into his pockets as he stepped across the threshold. Leaving his son at the door, he ventured deeper into the house. Cage followed a half-a-step behind. He could not cut in front of his father without overtly challenging him, but he could not allow his father to confront Bianca without some assistance.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Miss Devlin.” His father greeted her by name, which meant he was likely aware of everything. Cage was so dead. Shaking off the fatalistic teenage reaction he always seemed to endure when his father was present, Cage steeled his spine. Bianca was his to protect.
Even from his father.
“Mr. Castillo,” Bianca said, flicking a look toward him before easing off the stool. Her legs were still a little rubbery, so she braced one hand against the counter. Dressed only in a T-shirt and panties, she still managed to look poised. When her gaze went to his father though, a wariness filled her eyes at his extended hand. With pronounced slowness, she accepted his handshake.
Cage’s wolf braced within him, but he kept his growl in check and didn’t react. His father. His alpha.
My woman.
“Please, have a seat, Miss Devlin. You are weak.” His father’s measured tone held no malice or criticism, shocking enough. More surprising was Bianca folding her arms and locking her legs. Defiance etched every ounce of her.
“Thank you for the permission—in my house.” Territory established. Challenge offered.
“Babe,” Cage said before his father could respond, as he cut around to join her. Strength in numbers wasn’t his goal, protecting Bianca was. “This is my father, and he’s also my alpha.” Ignoring his father’s measuring look, Cage focused on the woman next to him. “As alpha, he is the arbiter of our laws, the source of it, and the wolf who protects everyone in the pack.”
“Including me.” She made the leap, then sat abruptly. “Which answers the question about what’s happening to me.”
“It answers some questions,” Reuben said, folding one hand over the other. His posture wasn’t confrontational, but the mildness of his stance didn’t fool Cage. There was only one reason his father could be here—someone had told him. The team didn’t know all the details of his involvement with Bianca, but Silver, Jax, and Kat did. It wouldn’t be hard for the rest of his team to figure it out.
Resentment simmered in his gut, but he couldn’t afford to overreact. Not when his father held Bianca’s life in his hands—literally. Not when he was here.
“I guess you should sit down,” Bianca said, weariness dragging every syllable. Despite her statement, however, she didn’t resume her seat. Her sandwich was gone, and she reclaimed the cup of coffee Cage had made for himself.
“Do you want more food?” he asked her, angling his posture to shield her even as he studied his father’s relaxed mien. What the hell was going on?
“I’m fine,” she lied, but then added, “It’s too uncomfortable to eat right now anyway.”
“Stop hovering, hijo.” The calm order snapped over him and his wolf bristled at the command. Not because his father issued it, but because he wanted Cage to back off from Bianca.
“Thank you for the advice,” he replied, measuring his tone in equal parts politeness and defiance. “However, I am looking after Bianca.”
Reuben lifted a brow, but his scent didn’t change, nor did he respond immediately.
Silence stretched taut between them, and Bianca actually patted his chest. “You know, I think your father’s right.” Not words he ever wanted to hear fall from her lips again. “Let’s go out on the deck.”
With that, she led the way, every trembling step a testament to her absolute determination. Cage didn’t follow immediately, his gaze locking on his father’s. Though he wanted to demand why the alpha was there, the words froze on his tongue. His wolf did not want to challenge their father, not over his simple presence. They had other battles to fight.
“Let’s not keep the lady waiting,” his father said, motioning for him to precede him. Over Bianca?
Yes. The wolf wouldn’t hesitate. As unreadable as his father’s expression might be, his scent held no aggression. The latter braced him. “Papa,” he said, because he fought better with good intel. “Why are you here?”
“My son purchased a home within my territory, didn’t notify me, and used funds from an account his mother and I set up for him when he was born—an account he’s never touched.” Reuben gripped his shoulder, and turned him. “I would be remiss if I didn’t verify that the person using the money was indeed my child, a child who is supposed to be working on a private project for the government.”
Cage grimaced.
“Yes,” his father said as he guided him after Bianca. “You see the conundrum.”
His father’s absolute civility promised several things. One, he had made no decisions with regard to her current situation. Two, Bianca’s condition came as a surprise to his father. So no one had alerted him—a relief, however small. Three, his father’s calmness might bely a far deeper anger.
Bianca’s life, and maybe his own was in his father’s hands. The price was too high. “Papa…”
“Enough, Carlos.” Reprimand laced like a steel cord through his words. Now his father was treating him like the awkward damn teenager instead of a grown-ass man. Then again, he’d also kept a huge secret from him. Hard to resent when he’d been the one to fuck up.
Fine. He’d take the scolding. Better he than Bianca.
The sunshine on the deck sliced across his eyes, leaving him squinting. Bianca sat in her favorite chair, bare foot resting on the rail. With only one other chair present, Cage settled on the rail nearest Bianca. His father said nothing about the position he’d taken; instead, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and took a seat.
“Thank you for having me in your home, Miss Devlin.” Pure politeness.
“Forgive me, Mr. Castillo,” Bianca said, curling her toes against the railing. “I’m afraid your gratitude is misdirected. You ordered your son to invite you in, so it’s hardly my hospitality letting you stay here.”
Challenge, civil maybe, but challenge nonetheless resonated within her statement.
“Fair enough,” Reuben replied, unperturbed by her response. “I did order my son to admit me, and that is within my rights.”
Not in dispute, but Reuben wasn’t looking at Cage. He focused on Bianca. She seemed aware of it. “It’s…the alpha thing, right?” The quick way she glanced around and lowered her voice was inescapably innocent and sweet. It was also not lost on his father.
“I’d like to think it was more the father thing,” Reuben said, looking perfectly comfortable in the rickety wood chair with its peeling varnish despite his three thousand-dollar suit. “Though I suspect you are correct.”
Shame edged through Cage, and he curled his fingers into his palms. Meeting his father’s gaze, he tucked his chin and bowed his head. Yes, I fucked up. His father’s expression eased, some of the stiffness leaving his jaw. He nodded once. Apology accepted.
“Well, we should probably make the best of it then, and you’re welcome in my home as long as you mean no harm to Cage.” With one complex sentence, she offered peace and aligned herself with Cage.
“Cage,” his father repeated, then glanced at him. “A nickname?”
“One I earned with the team,” he said, forcing his fists to uncurl and refusing to fold his arms. Enough with being defensive. “It fits.”
“Does it?” While his curiosity didn’t hold an element of disapproval, Cage had to strangle back the need to defend it. “Interesting. I’ll be using Carlos.”
“Of course, Papa.” He would never dream of his father calling him Cage. It wasn’t like he even asked.
“And on that note of tension, what brings you to Austin, Mr. Castillo?” The polite hostess veneer suited Bianca, but her exhaustion and illness made this interaction a trial for her.
“Papa came because of me,” Cage answered, usurping control and the hint of a flash in his father’s eyes warned him the senior Castillo was more than aware of the action.
“I don’t recall referring to you as Mr. Castillo, Sergeant.” The reprimand offered him a verbal slap on the nose, similar to the physical one she’d delivered upstairs. It stung his pride. Irritated, he folded his arms and settled a steady look on his father. Bianca hadn’t asked for any of this, and he wouldn’t fight with her in front of his father.
“As I explained, when someone accessed his bank account and made a real estate purchase in Austin, and I hadn’t heard from him, I decided to investigate.” Of course, his father did. If he didn’t, then he wouldn’t be the alpha, who had to control everything. And in fairness, I was supposed to be hundreds of miles away.
It had been a stupid move on his part. Cage had let himself get so caught up in her, he didn’t think through the possibilities. The petulant reaction added another layer of embarrassment, particularly when his father glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.
Fuck. He couldn’t hide anything from the man.
“Well, that’s thoughtful,” Bianca said, accepting his father’s explanation at face value. “I know he serves in the Marines. So, it’s not unreasonable to assume if someone is spending his money when you think he’s elsewhere that his identity has been stolen.”
Bianca was taking Papa’s side? Really?
“Precisely. Though, I have to admit, Miss Devlin, I am far more troubled by discovering him here than I would be if someone had decided to loot his account.” The nicer his father became, the more dangerous he was.
“Because he’s with me?” Bianca took a sip of her coffee. Whether it was the food, the sunshine, or the whiskey in her coffee, she seemed far calmer. Cage wished he was.
“To disapprove of my son’s interest in you would be a tad overprotective. He is not a child.”
Cage swore he could hear the clicking of the trap as his father set it.
“Unless his interest has something to do with your—other halves.” Bianca walked right into it, and Cage’s chest rumbled. The sound earned him a dour look from both his father and his lover. Not bothering to disguise his annoyance from them, he blew out a breath.
“How do you feel, Miss Devlin?”
“Like crap.” The broken note in her tone arrested Cage’s bad mood and refocused him on her.
Dropping into a squat next to her chair, he touched her arm with a gentle hand. “Can I get you anything?”
Her hazel eyes inspected him, and within them, he felt as though she weighed and measured him. The sunlight revealed the deeper green hints beneath the brown. Encircling them, however, was pure gold. His heart kicked and his wolf sat up. If they’d needed any final confirmation of their fear, he found it reflected back at him.
In his chair, Cage’s father stiffened once more. The tension coiling through Cage’s muscles echoed the same rigidity in his father. They had turned Bianca. She was in the middle of it, no disputing the facts. Not when her temperature waxed and waned, her appetite increased, and, from what Cage could determine, she’d already begun to have sharp increases in her sense of smell.
It was why she’d called him on his lie.
“What I want is the answer to my earlier question,” she began, each word carefully measured and delivered as though she wanted to parcel them out with care.
Glancing at his father, Cage didn’t have to ask if the old man had figured it out. His watchfulness and absolute care to contain his power said he was avoiding scaring Bianca. On one level, Cage should appreciate his father’s effort. On another, he wished the man had waited another day. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in front of him.
“Cage.” Bianca covered Cage’s hand on her arm, and his wolf clawed at him. They couldn’t control this. Not anymore. “I need to know.”
A breeze ruffled the trees, rustling the fresh growth of leaves. A pool filter churned in a yard to the east. A bird chittered in the west. A small, yappy dog declared her territory a couple of houses away, while a pair of squirrels chittered. All of these combined to create hints of tranquility along with the sun at his back. A tranquility he had to shatter.
Maintaining his position, squatting next to her, he raised his chin so their gazes could lock. The gold circle around her gorgeous hazel eyes haunted him. Yet his wolf shared no such reservations. She would be like them. The wolf knew it—had known it from the beginning. She would be stronger. She would be more durable.
She would be magnificent.
“Yes,” he answered, giving her arm a light squeeze. He needed her to believe him, to trust in him.
“I see.” Two simple syllables, and yet the distance in her voice and her gaze expanded rapidly, leaving him floundering on the far side of a vast gulf. “If you two will excuse me,” she continued, tugging her arm from beneath his grasp. She stood so rapidly, she wavered. Cage hit his feet a split second behind his father. The older Castillo caught her elbow lightly, balancing her.
“Bianca—”
“No,” she denied him, then pulled away from his father, while retreating from Cage. “I need a minute…I might need more than that. Talk to your father.” She all but fled into the house.
Cage went to follow. She didn’t need to be alone right now, but Reuben gripped his arm. “Stop.” Command reverberated through the word, and Cage was suddenly rooted. His alpha had given him an order.
“Don’t you dare order me not help her…” He would obey his father in most things, but not this. His wolf agreed.
“A minute.” Reuben was not swayed. “Give her what she asks for. Listen.” With a finger, he motioned toward the house. Bianca’s unsteady steps ascended the stairs, and there was a soft, choked sound to her breathing.
“She’s crying. She needs me.”
“Perhaps, at the moment, she is hating you, and she is entitled. And I advise you to do as she asks.” The alpha fully supplanted his father and would brook no argument from him.
Defiance surged through Cage. Bianca was his dammit, not his father’s. Yanking away from the older man’s grip, he pivoted to face him. “You do not get to decide what she does or doesn’t need.”
Through half-slitted eyes, his father studied him, and the power he’d contained in Bianca’s presence flared. It batted at Cage, the heat of it puffing against his flesh as though he faced his father’s wolf. Danger or not, he refused to back down. “Hijo, if you think you are ready to challenge me, then say the words.”
Unyielding force awaited him in the declaration. “Is it at all possible for you to be my father for five minutes and not my alpha?”
“No, Carlos. I am always both—father and alpha. Stop reacting for a moment, think.” The verbal remonstration wounded his pride.
“I have thought. She’s in pain, and she’s confused. She needs someone to be there for her—I need to be there for her.” Their argument was an old one, and it dated back to long before he’d volunteered to serve on Bravo Team WOLF. His father was alpha, and it brought a lot of negative attention Cage’s way while he was growing up. Older boys who wanted to test their mettle against the alpha’s eldest, peers who thought being his friend might earn them privileges, and worse, she-wolves who thought he might only be worthy if he were to be the next alpha.
“Your behavior should never be dictated by how others treat you, Carlos. Grow up.” The last two syllables slapped him. “Being foolish when you were young was one thing; you are a man now—or was the whole point of your speech about service to the pack only to get your way and not to demonstrate your understanding of how the world worked.”
The accusation stung, and Cage thrust his hand through his hair, the length more familiar to him but beyond regulation enough to add to his current aggravation. “I don’t want to have this fight.”
“Then don’t.” Reuben spread his hands. “You are defying me because you are eager to chase after Miss Devlin and correct the wrong you’ve done.”
Sobering words.
“You cannot correct it.” Not that he needed the reminder, but his father hit it on the head. “You’ve changed her life. Whether she can bear up to the change, and survive it, that will be on her.”
Reality torpedoed him. “Can she really die?” It was not something he’d ever considered.
“She could.” Then Reuben did something Cage couldn’t recall his father ever doing. He sighed and scrubbed a hand against his jaw. A demonstration of…anxiety? Concern? Yet it lacked the heat of disapproval and settled Cage in a way he couldn’t express. “Let’s deal with this one item at a time. Tell me what happened.”
Cage paused, listening to the house and tracking Bianca to her room. The ragged nature of her breathing had calmed, but when she hiccupped it turned him inside out.
A hand braced his shoulder again; this time the contact held comfort and shared strength. “Give her the time she requested, Carlos. She is in the house—nothing can touch her that we cannot get to long before it breathes the same air as she. You must learn to discipline your heart. Sometimes pain must be felt, it must be experienced, and all the wanting to remove it in the world cannot take it away. Trust her.”
Strange advice, but Cage leaned on it as he leaned on his father. The alpha, as he’d told Bianca, was the strongest among them. He shared his strength, and he protected. Cage had never wanted to need his father to be his alpha, and he’d always rebelled against it.
Maybe it was time he stopped.
Blowing out a breath, he raised his gaze to meet his father’s. “I was on a mission…”