Chapter 140

“Caleb…” I begin, speaking softly.

He hums, acknowledging he is listening.

I’m nervous but determined. While I don’t wish to leave Caleb, I can’t stay here, pretending like everything is okay while he proceeds with his engagement.

“You promised you would grant my request…”

“Don’t ask again,” he says, his entire body tensing against mine.

Still, I push forward, however recklessly. “Please let me go free.”

“No,” he replies at once, forceful enough that a growl escapes his throat. “I told you not to ask. Now I am commanding you to do so. Ask again, and there will be consequences.”

I’m not sure I believe him. After all, he’s holding me very gently, despite the clear anger in his voice and the tension of his body.

Even so, however, I don’t feel like I should test my limits. Caleb has been acting erratically as of late, more than usual. If I push him, he might not be able to control himself in delivering punishment.

But that meant, I would have to bury my desire to be free deep down within myself. For me to never ask again meant that he would never release me.

I felt as if I was standing in a long dark tunnel, staring down at an unhappy future ahead of me. Yet there were no other options but to move forward.

With a sigh, I settled more fully against Caleb and accepted the comforts where I could. At least I would likely always have this.

“I won’t let you go,” Caleb says. “You will stay by my side until one of us dies.”

It should be a romantic sentiment, yet with the way he’s expressing it, it seems as though he has a grim future in mind for us – or at least, for himself.

His paranoia makes it difficult for him to see a future for himself that isn’t rife with carnage and betrayal. How stressful it must be to live like that.

I resolve to give him as much peace as I can, even while my own heart aches, with no escape from my own misery.

The longer Caleb holds Harper in his arms, the more clarity he begins to hold in his mind, as if the fog is finally lifting, allowing him to see things for how they are.

His condition is only growing worse. He can admit that now, recognizing the aggravated shift that takes over him when the paranoia returns.

Harper wants to be free. He has some affection for her. While he doesn’t understand where her hurt in the situation stems from – wouldn’t anyone want to be with the King, even if only as his consort? – Caleb has an impulse to give Harper the things she desires, even her freedom from him.

But, under the circumstances, he fears letting her go would have him succumbing entirely to the encroaching madness. He needed her here beside him.

Being near Harper is the only time he feels sane anymore.

However, for her sake, he will continue to keep her separate from any occasion he knows Annabelle will be. He doesn’t care how far he has to stretch his sanity, he can at least gift Harper that.

After leaving Harper, Caleb returns alone to the Hall to continue on with the Alpha Council.

He knows this farce is necessary to maintain diplomacy between the packs, but the results so far have been lacking at best, outright frustrating at worst.

All of the plans the pack leaders come up with are either impractical, impossible, or entirely selfish, protecting their own lands while leaving the others more vulnerable to attacks.

Caleb doesn’t contribute much, far too annoyed to engage with any of them at this point, while they argue and bicker with each other.

Even Tristan, who had tried to delegate for a time, seems to have given up now, standing by the wall instead, with his typical bored expression covering his face.

Caleb’s advisors, the ones that are left anyway, are the only means of order remaining in the room. They try to redirect the conversation into something actually helpful. Whether they succeed or not, Caleb isn’t particularly sure, as his mind has begun to wander far away from this room.

Without Harper, the fog once more begins to cloud Caleb’s mind. He tries hard to keep it at by, clinging to his thoughts and doubting every hint of annoyance within him. Does he have reason to distrust these Alphas? Or is it the fog of his mind that gives him doubt?

Being critical helps keep himself in check, at least for a time.

Yet the intrusive thoughts set in quickly and are relentless in attacking Caleb’s mind. Even closing his eyes and focusing, he can find no escape from this onslaught.

So, without even realizing he moved, Caleb blinks his eyes open, and he is standing over a cowering Alpha from a borderland pack. The Alpha is younger, inexperienced, yet was one of the loudest voices in the room – and the one with the worst ideas.

Now, he looks up at Caleb with fear widening his eyes, his back on the floor. His hands are up in a defensive position, but they are trembling. He must know he would stand no chance against an Alpha as strong as Caleb in a fight.

With his confusion, Caleb can’t remember why he attacked this man. Did he finally meet his limit of patience?

Yet even now, his wolf yearns for blood. Caleb’s own hands shake with the strain of holding back his desire to permanently maim and harm this man.

That kind of punishment should not be wrought upon someone who is only annoying.

Especially when that person is a pack Alpha here for a Council.

“Alpha,” Tristan says from nearby, nearer than he’d been before.

Caleb is starting to have holes now in his memory as well. Troublesome.

Slowly, and with great effort, Caleb pulls back and steps away from the pack Alpha he had shoved to the floor. Immediately, Tristan is there by his side.

“What triggered this?” Tristan whispers.

Caleb wishes he had an answer for him. Instead he just looks at him. Truly, Caleb has no idea.

Tristan must see that answer in Caleb’s face. “With permission, Alpha, I believe we should suspend the council for now.”

Caleb nods. “I will leave first. Too many people moving…” might trigger him. He didn’t want to say that part allowed, resenting this sudden weakness in himself.

“Very well,” Tristan replies.

Caleb starts making his way to the door. As he does, he feels the eyes of every Alpha in the room upon him. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and sends the shivers of paranoia rippling through his mind.

They think you are weak.

They do not respect you.

They are plotting against you.

He does his best to push the thoughts away. He wants to rush from the room before he can hurt anyone else, but that would only show his weakness. He has to walk, and be strong.

Behind him, he begins to hear whispers. Among the Alphas? Or in his mind?

He can no longer tell the difference.

“The Alpha King is losing his mind…”

“We need another on the throne…”

“If only his brother Evan was King instead of him…”