Chapter 11: The Promise

I hit him.

It was an open hand, across the face, and the crack of it filled the room.

His head turned and came back.

I hit him again, the other side, harder, and he let me.

Then I hit him in the chest with both fists.

He sat there on the edge of the bed taking it, and I heard myself making a noise I couldn't stop.

"You let me think it was you."

"Yes."

"For six days."

"Yes."

"I swung a burning fist at your face in front of the whole pack."

"Then I stood in your yard and screamed at you to answer for my parents."

"I know."

"You knew who it was!"

"I knew whose gate it had to be," he said, low.

"I had no proof. I'm a kinslayer, and he's a grieving Alpha at his own funeral. They would have laughed."

"And then they would have buried you with your parents."

I stopped hitting him.

My hands were shaking too hard to make a fist.

"That wasn't your decision."

"No."

"She asked you to wait. She didn't ask you to lie to me."

"I know the difference now."

"You didn't know it on the road to the border."

"No."

"Stop saying no like it's a gift."

He lifted his eyes to mine, and the gold in them was dim and tired.

"I can't give you your mother back," Caleb said.

"I can't give you your father."

"I can stand in front of you and let you break whatever you need to break."

"I'll do that for as long as you want."

"I don't want you to stand there."

"What do you want?"

"I want to know what you'll do now that I know."

He did not hesitate.

"Whatever you tell me."

"I'm not your Alpha."

"No. You're the one who gets to say."

I stared at him.

"And the claim?" I said.

"The claim is yours."

"You can tell me to go back to my side of the ridge tomorrow, and I'll go."

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