Page 15 of Witch's Moon
Chapter 6
Caleb had no clue what he was doing here.
He didn’t want to be here, and if he’d had any sense, he would be miles away. Instead, he was standing outside her house like some lovesick idiot.
He leaned against the rough trunk of one of the huge oak trees, arms folded across his chest, and stared at the house. It was a beautiful building—dark stone, thatch, and a host of mullioned windows. Old and sprawling, it appeared as much a part of the landscape as the ancient trees that surrounded it.
Caleb had wandered over every inch of the forest that afternoon, needing to make sure the pack was no longer in the area. He could find no trace. They were gone. Probably back to their usual hunting grounds way up in the north.
He liked the forest—a sense of timeless magic pervaded the place. Normally, he avoided any hint of the supernatural; he’d turned his back on that part of his existence long ago, but this place felt welcoming. It called to something inside him. He also knew it would be the perfect place to shift—he hadn’t seen a single human in all his time here.
He returned to the house as the sun was setting. The building appeared to be in darkness. No hint of light emerged from the many windows. Perhaps Regan had drawn all the curtains, closed the shutters tight, hoping to keep out the full moon. If she believed that, she was in for a bitter disappointment.
She was in there. He could sense her. And the fact that he could sense her was not making him happy. He tried to tell himself he was doing this for Regan’s sisters. The brunette had been a cute little thing. The blonde had seemed …nice. How could three sisters be so different? Neither of them deserved to die at the hands of an out-of-control, newly turned werewolf. From what he’d seen of her, Regan was bitch enough as a human. God knows what she’d be like as a wolf.
He pushed himself up off the trunk and paced. He was lying to himself—the truth was, he needed to see Regan again, hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. The feel of her. The taste of her. She was stuck firmly inside him and wouldn’t be dislodged.
She appeared so tough, so in control. How would she take to losing that control so completely? Maybe he just needed to see her through this first time. Or maybe he needed to have her, just once, and then he’d be able to walk away and forget her.
Tonight, there was a thick layer of cloud cover, and a light drizzle misted the air, but he sensed the exact moment when the moon rose. Something wild welled up inside him, a wave of exhilaration as the adrenalin surged in his veins. Unlike the pack, he’d neverhadto change at the full moon. Usually, he avoided it, just to prove to himself that he could, and he’d always tried to deny the excitement. But it was there nevertheless. He forced it down and strode across the clearing. At the front door, he raised his fist and banged.
The door flew open. Catrin stood there, panic clear on her face.
“Caleb, thank the Goddess, you’re here.” As she stared up at him, her eyes widened, and he knew his own must have changed.
He pushed past her into the hallway. “Where is she?”
“She made me lock her in the basement. Come on, I’ll take you.”
“Your other sister?”
“Lola’s in her room.”
A shrill scream tore through the building, more animal than human, and Catrin whirled around and raced down the hallway. Caleb followed.
Catrin’s hands were shaking, she couldn’t get the key in the lock, and Caleb took it from her and pushed her gently out of the way. The scream came again, and he quickly unlocked the door. He turned to Catrin. “Go. Join your sister. Lock yourselves in, and don’t come out until morning.”
She nodded, then reached out and rested her hand on his arm. “Look after her, Caleb.”
“I will. Now, go!”
She left, hurrying up the stairs. Halfway up, she paused. “Thank you.” Then she was gone.
Caleb turned back to the door. He opened it cautiously. “Regan?”
No answer.
The door opened onto a narrow staircase. He switched on the light and started down. As he descended, his nostrils filled with the acrid scent of sweat and fear. At the bottom, he looked around. The room was small, about ten feet across, bare walls, no furniture. Regan was huddled in one corner, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her red hair falling forward, hiding her face. He called her name, and her whole body went rigid.
Slowly, she raised her head. Her silver eyes were almost black, wild in her pale face. As she stared at Caleb, a small flicker of humanity broke through, and horror filled her expression. “Get out of here,” she whispered.
“We’re both getting out.” He took a step toward her.
“Can’t. Too dangerous. Get out and lock the door.” Her voice was hoarse and strained, and Caleb knew she hovered on the brink of changing. He stepped closer, and she cringed back against the wall.
“You’ll kill yourself if you change in here,” he said. “You’ll tear yourself apart trying to get out.”
“Doesn’t matter. I won’t hurt anyone else.”
