Chapter 33 - CAL
CALEB
They didn't understand, this wasn't like him. Something was going on, there had to be an explanation.
Phil is one of the most leveled headed Wolves I knew. He's calm, patient, and the one to talk people down from making stupid decisions. He was the fucking Mediator of our Community. It was literally his job.
Why now?
What happened?
And why the hell does it seem like Brynn doesn't care?
She knows him, just as I do. They've been friends our entire lives. She knows this isn't something he would do. Why does she seem so calm?
Was she...keeping something from me? Does she know something?
No.
No. No. No. Brynn tells me everything, I can't start doubting her now. Not when things are finally starting to move forward with us. Besides...I trust her.
So why did the sinking feeling in my gut only get worse?
I sighed, trying to keep my calm when walking up the stairs to a familiar blue door. Knocking three times, I stepped back and waited.
There were footsteps. Heavy ones. I braced myself when the door opened.
Nick looked tired. No, that was too generous of a word. He looked exhausted and defeated. Usually, we'd do our dance of aggression before ultimately he allowed me inside. This time, there was no spark in his eyes. Instead of their normal piercing blue, they were muted and dull. His hair was greasy and disheveled like a straw nest left out in the rain.
And I think he lost some weight.
Wordless, he stepped aside. I passed by him suspiciously. It wasn't in our relationship for me to ask what was wrong or if he was okay. He wouldn't tell me. So, I didn't say anything, just walked by him, up the stairs, and to the room down the hall on the right.
Pyka was swallowed up in a bunch of blankets and pillows. At first, I thought he was sleeping, he lie there so still, but then I noticed his glazed-over eyes staring at the screen in front of him. He wasn't watching television, it wasn't really his thing.
Instead, it looked like a camera feed, set up to show a wide angle of a room downstairs with six little pups of varying shades snuffling along a small pen. Only just getting their paws beneath them, though they should have been running about.
They were small...too small. And they lacked the energy pups their age usually had. Much like Pyka, who laid there, gaunt, sallow, and terrifyingly ill.
"Hey," I greeted softly, coming to sit at his side, careful not to jostle him as I shimmied next to him on the bed.
He blinked a couple of times, those giant hazel eyes clearing before he grinned at me.
"Took you long enough," he whispered, voice raspy and unused. A poor imitation of his usual sass.
"I was too busy cleaning up the mess you left behind," I joked. "You look like crap."
"Bitch," Pyka grumbled without much heat.
I stroked his curls back from his face. They were damp as if he were sweating, but he shivered like he was cold.
YOU ARE READING
Lavishing Him
Werewolf(BOOK 3): Caleb (Cal) Maccon has known what it truly means to be an Omega from the moment he had been born. Full of insecurities and self loathing, Cal has let his past cloud his future and there was only one person who shined bright enough to bring...
