Chapter 8: Hunger and Highway

Nash drove while Caleb sat in the back with Sadie. He didn't ask because it was obvious that words were beyond her. He sat on the opposite side of the bench, to allow her to do as she wanted. She held out for ten minutes before she unbuckled and laid her head in Caleb’s lap. At first she jusr laid there. Then she cried. Body wracking sobs that felt like they would engulf her entire being. Caleb pulled his jacket over her like a weighted blanket, and gently put a hand on her side. He murmured softly, comforting where he could and trying to help her mind acclimate to his voice. It took an hour, but she finally succumbed to the exhaustion.

Caleb looked down at the top of her head, her dark hair fanning out across his thighs. She smelled like jasmine and Lavender, but underneath it was the growing, golden heat of the mate bond. His hand rested on her hip, his thumb tracing small, unconscious circles over the denim of her jeans.

“She’s out?” Nash asked softly, his eyes meeting Caleb’s in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah,” Caleb rumbled, his voice barely a vibration. “She’s spent, Nash. Her own pack treated her like a biohazard. She’s got nothing left.”

“So, what’s the plan? We’ve got eighteen hours of road ahead of us. You going to keep playing the ‘Comforting Stranger,’ or are you going to start being her Alpha?”

Caleb’s grip on her hip tightened just a fraction—not enough to wake her, but enough to claim her. He thought about the life he’d lived back on the Ridge, structured and free, the structure and the discipline that kept his own wolf in check. Sadie didn't just need a boyfriend; she needed a framework. She needed someone to tell her where to stand so the world would stop spinning.

“She needs a win first,” Caleb whispered, looking out at the dark Georgia highway. “But once she’s fed and she’s got her feet under her... I’m going to start setting the boundaries. She’s a Sovereign, Nash. Meaning I am too. If I don't give her a leash to hold onto, she’ll tear herself apart trying to lead a life that doesn't exist anymore.”

He leaned back, closing his eyes and letting his scent bleed out into the cabin, a silent command for her to keep sleeping. To stay safe. To stay his.

“What from the stories do you think is true Caleb?” Nash asked softly. There were so many, there were so few hard facts they could hold onto.

“It's hard to say. I know for sure she will have healing abilities. I've heard rumors of other abilities forming, premonition, empathic abilities…”

“Then why did they want her gone? None of those sound like anything that would cause any real harm.”

“Because a Sovereign… yes they are those things, they always become Luna's, but historically they are more. They are more wolf. Their wolves are strong. They change their Alpha's, they make their time as Alpha extend just by the bond because they reduce the wear and tear on the body. The history isn't very clear, but… a bloody history seems to follow them, and there are many more questions than answers right now.”

Nash nodded his head in deep thought. “You texted Tess?” A smile creeped across Nash’s narrow eyes, just a little, just thinking about his mate it had been too long.

“Yeah. After a few choice words she agreed to get everything ready. She is amazing.”

“She is. Now get some sleep Alpha. Tomorrow is going to be a rough day,” Nash advised.

Nash drove through the night, and into the next day, knowing getting as close to home with the ticking time bombs in the back seat was vital.

As the sun rose, the mates slept on, but by full sunrise, the SUVs interior was flooded with light. Sadie didn't open her eyes immediately. Instead, she breathed. Her nose was pressed against a wall of warm, heavy fabric that smelled so intensely of Vanilla and Pine. She thought it was bad perfume yesterday. There was something else now—the "human" fog had cleared enough that she could pick out the layers. She smelled the sharp, metallic tang of the truck’s cabin, and a faint, secondary scent coming from the front seat—something like Dry Oak and Rain that she knew instinctively belonged to Nash.

But it was the heat beneath her cheek that made her heart skip. She wasn't leaning against a door; she was draped across Caleb. His thigh was a solid, unyielding stone beneath her head, and the hand resting on her hip felt like a brand.

Then, the hunger hit.

It wasn't the polite rumbling of a missed meal. It was a violent, hollow ache that started in the pit of her stomach and radiated outward until her teeth literally throbbed. Her stomach cramped so hard she gasped, her eyes snapping open to the dim, blue light of the cabin. She felt like she could eat everything in the truck and still be starving.

But underneath the physical craving for food, there was a second hunger. It was a dark, pulsing Need that felt entirely foreign. It made her skin feel too tight; it made her want to reach out and sink her nails into the muscle of Caleb’s leg just to feel the resistance. It was a craving for friction, for weight, for someone to push back against the sudden, terrifying expansion of her own power.

“Caleb,” she rasped, her voice sounding like broken glass.

He was awake instantly. His hand moved from her hip to the back of her neck, his thumb grazing the sensitive skin at the base of her skull. The contact sent a jolt through her that made her vision blur.

“I’ve got you, Sadie. We’ll stop soon,” he rumbled, his voice vibrating through her skull. He looked down at her, and in the shadows of the backseat, his eyes weren't green-gold anymore. They were glowing—a low, predatory amber.

He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, and Sadie realized with a surge of panic that she didn't just want food. She wanted something she’d never had before. But she couldn't. She didn't know him, or even where she was

“You’re shaking, sweetheart,” Caleb whispered, his grip on her neck tightening just enough to be a command. “Is it the hunger, or is your wolf finally realizing who I am?”

Sadie opened her mouth to answer, but a low, involuntary sound escaped her throat—a sound that wasn't human, and certainly wasn't the soft, polite girl from Vinings.

“Good girl.”