Chapter 9: Chapter Nine

Caroline Ryder

I hung back, waiting for Trip to bid his friends farewell. He was escorting Bennie and Sarah out, tossing me apologetic glances while chuckling at his tipsy friend.

The party had gone better than I’d anticipated, and I had a hunch it was due to the company.

I scooped up a stray Ping-Pong ball from the floor and aimed for a cup across the table, grinning when I made the shot.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. I looked around, the mess suddenly glaringly obvious.

Beer bottles were scattered everywhere, some tipped over, spilling their last drops.

My head felt a bit fuzzy from the alcohol, and I’d only had one beer. I couldn’t fathom how Bennie and Rowan managed to drink so much.

I started collecting the bottles, tossing them into a bin under the kitchen sink. I wasn’t really cleaning Trip’s place, just keeping my hands busy until he came back.

Truth be told, I was a bit nervous about being alone with him. I wasn’t sure what to say or how to act.

I grabbed a cloth, wringing it out before wiping down the table and countertops. My mom would probably faint if she saw me cleaning.

A frown pulled at my lips as I thought about her, about how I’d left things with my dad, with Han.

My stomach fluttered with nerves when I heard the porch door open and Trip’s deep voice calling out to his friends to be safe.

I tossed the cloth into the sink and tried to smooth down my frizzy hair.

“You didn’t have to clean up,” Trip said as he walked into the kitchen, rubbing his neck.

I shrugged. “I don’t mind. Just killing time.”

He took a deep breath. “Thanks for hanging out with my friends. They were excited to meet you. They all really like you.”

I suspected he was trying to reassure me. The boys were too drunk to form an opinion, the enforcer too reserved to comment, and the peacemaker probably disliked me after how I’d treated her.

I crossed my arms over my chest. The house was eerily quiet now that the party was over. “Well…,” I began awkwardly, “I’m tired.”

Trip blinked, then blushed. “Right, yeah, of course. Um. There’s a bedroom upstairs. It’s the only one with a bed right now. You can use it.”

I nodded and he turned, leading the way. I followed him up the stairs, noticing the bare walls.

Trip’s steps slowed as we approached the door at the end of the hall. He opened it and stepped aside for me to enter.

The room was large, probably the master suite. It faced the front of the house, with several dormer windows offering a view of the village.

The room was sparsely furnished: a bed, a dresser, a nightstand. The bed was stripped bare. “You don’t sleep here?” I asked.

Trip was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, one hand rubbing his jaw.

He didn’t seem to hear me at first. He was scanning the room, his expression tense.

“No,” he finally answered, his voice rough.

I remembered the sheets on the living room floor from that morning. “Not a fan of comfort and beds?” I teased.

He uncrossed his arms. “No, no,” he said. “Just feels weird after the war. I’m used to sleeping in makeshift camps and cots that felt like they were filled with concrete.”

“So, you must hate king-sized beds,” I said, sitting on the edge of the mattress. The room was beautiful, grand even. Perfect for an alpha couple. But I felt out of place.

Trip shifted uncomfortably. I sat up straighter, sensing there was more to it than I’d initially thought.

He cleared his throat and looked down. “This room was meant for me and my mate,” he admitted.

I stood up. “Right.”

He sighed. “It’s silly. Del never even set foot in here. It’s just the idea of this room being for us to share.”

His eyes took on a distant look as he lost himself in memories of her and dreams that never came to be. I recognized that look. I wore it often myself.

I crossed my arms over my chest and wrinkled my nose. “It’s a bit stuffy in here,” I critiqued, looking around. “Odd shape for a master bedroom. Too much light from those windows.”

I sighed. “I couldn’t possibly stay here. It’s just not suitable.”

I watched with a surprising amount of satisfaction as Tyler Trip tried and failed to suppress a smile.

He cleared his throat, the distant look fading. “I wouldn’t want to disrespect you, Caroline. After all, I was the one who asked you to be the luna of this pack.”

My heart felt light. “Well, this room is absolutely unacceptable.” I crossed the room to join him at the door. “You’ll have to do better, Alpha.”

He paused. “There’s a small guest bedroom.”

“Drafty,” I dismissed, catching the amusement in his eye. “And dusty.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Dusty too?”

“I could barely breathe.”

Trip pressed a finger to his lips.

“I could share my spot with you,” he suggested softly, his eyes cautious despite his playful tone. “But I have to warn you, it’s extremely grand and high class.”

I threw my hands out. “Finally,” I exclaimed. “Take me to this grand place.”

Trip laughed and led me down the hall. He paused to grab my bags and carried them downstairs for me.

I watched the muscles in his back and shoulders move as we walked, my stomach doing flips.

He led me to the empty living room and gestured for me to enter. I curtsied and stepped forward, taking in the hardwood floors and white walls.

He moved behind me to fetch sheets and pillows from a closet in the front hall.

When he came back, his mood had shifted. His eyes were guarded, and he held out a pillow to me. I accepted it, pressing it against my chest and forcing a smile. He returned the smile, but it was brief.

“You don’t have to, Caroline,” he said softly. “I won’t mind if you want to stay in that room. What I said about it being for me and my mate… For Del… It’s just in my head. I know it’s just a room.”

“We both know that’s not true,” I replied quietly, watching his gaze drop.

He cleared his throat and shook his head, then started to set up two sleeping spots. I helped him, silently taking the corners of the sheets to help straighten them.

I changed in the bathroom, coming out with my clothes balled up against my chest before I stuffed them into my bag.

I sat on my pile of sheets and blankets while Trip crouched in front of the fireplace, messing with the kindling and newspaper.

“You don’t have to light a fire,” I said, not wanting him to go out of his way for me.

He shot a crooked smile over his shoulder at me. “It gets cold at night, especially this high up the mountain.”

It was dark outside the window, the trees black against the star-filled sky, and it hit me that I was in Alpha Tyler Trip’s home.

I wasn’t lying in my single bed in a tiny room sandwiched between my brothers. I was seriously considering becoming the luna.

Trip let out a small cheer as the fire caught, doubling and then tripling in size as it roared and flickered. He pulled the grate shut and leaned back on his heels, admiring his work.

The firelight caught the side of his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and cheeks.

I slid under the thinnest sheet and lay down on my side, propping my head up as I watched him settle into his spot.

He stretched out on his back and folded his hands over his stomach. I watched them rise and fall, letting the steady rhythm make my eyelids heavy.

“I have nightmares,” he said quietly, his eyes focused on the ceiling.

I didn’t say anything; just watched as he fidgeted and then finally turned his eyes to me, their color darker in the firelight.

“Okay,” I responded softly.

His lips twitched. “I yell out sometimes, move around…” The alpha paused before he looked at me again. “I just don’t want you to be caught off guard.”

I nodded slowly; he was warning me. “What are they about?” I asked.

Trip’s mouth opened but no words came out. I watched as he turned away, showing me his broad back.

I held back a sigh and settled in, flipping onto my back and turning my gaze to the ceiling. I was sure I had asked too much.

I hadn’t meant to, not consciously. But since losing Liam, there was a part of me, growing bigger each day, that craved intimacy, for the trust I had lost with my mate.

I wanted someone to confide in me, to trust me with their secrets, to turn themselves inside out and let me see what was inside.

And I wanted to do the same. I wanted to reveal my inner self and let someone else find beauty in what I only resented.

But as much as I craved intimacy, I found it harder to open up the longer I went without it.

It became harder to imagine that someone could appreciate me with each day I spent hating myself; with each day, the resentment went a little deeper.

That resentment flared when Trip turned away, his dismissal confirming my greatest fear: that I would never find that intimacy again.

With Liam, it had been easier than breathing, simple, fearless. My heart pounded painfully.

“I dream about the war,” Trip said, his voice rough and thick.

I stiffened and my heart fluttered. I heard him draw in a breath, so I stayed silent.

“I dream about the days before the war, before I lost everything, before I lost her.” From the corner of my eye, I saw him shudder.

“I dream about the day she died,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was there when it happened.”

My throat was dry. “I have the same nightmares,” I said softly. “Dreams where I see his face, hold his body, hear his voice. I see the old pack burning, hear them scream, and watch them die.”

Trip turned slowly, his eyes heavy and shining.

I turned, too, resting my hands underneath my cheek as I forced a smile. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him,” I whispered. “Every time I sit in silence, his voice starts to fill it.”

Trip’s mouth parted, his eyes growing wider. I tried to clear my throat as my own eyes started to sting. “It’s a kind of torture,” I said softly, “to feel like he is still here when I know he’s not.”

“To be torn between wanting to forget and wishing that you could remember more,” he replied.

I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs. “I wish I wouldn’t dream at all.”

Trip looked down, his thick eyelashes brushing his cheeks. “I feel like I deserve the nightmares,” he admitted. “It’s like, at night, I’m sent to my purgatory.”

“I’ve been trapped in hell ever since he died,” I said, tears falling onto my pillow for the first time since the day I lost my future.

“We do deserve it,” I choked out, a sharp pain flaring across my chest. “We were supposed to protect them.”

Trip didn’t respond.

***

When I woke up, the coals of the fire were still glowing but the air was cool and the early morning light was gray and dull as it filtered in through the window.

My body was sore, every joint stiff from sleeping on the hardwood floor.

Trip was curled up on his side, his face hidden and the sheets tangled between his strong legs, wrapped around his bare torso.

A blush spread across my cheeks and I turned away. I lifted my hand to my knotted hair and sighed.

I walked to the bathroom, carrying my bag with me. I tried to comb my fingers through my hair, cursing myself for forgetting a brush.

I pulled on my jogging pants, put on a hoodie, and walked out of the bathroom, right into Trip.

“Geez,” I muttered as he grabbed my arms to steady me.

“You’re the one who walked into me,” he shot back.

“Because you were blocking the door,” I retorted. “You’re worse than my brothers.”

Trip chuckled. “Where are you going?” I noticed the heavy bags under his eyes. He was clearly exhausted.

I could hear him restless all night, mumbling in his sleep, and then suddenly waking up with a string of curses.

“Going for a run,” I replied.

“Wait for me,” he said.

“What—?” But he was already gone, vanishing up the stairs.

I headed to the kitchen and downed a glass of water, doing my warm-up stretches as I waited for Trip to come down and bid me goodbye.

“Ready to go.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as Trip came back, all decked out in running gear that looked more at home in a city gym than on a mountain trail.

He seemed to enjoy my laughter, turning around so I could get a full view of his outfit.

“You’re not coming,” I said, trying to keep a straight face as I put my glass in the sink.

He spread his arms wide. “Come on. Jackie filled my closet before I got back. It would be a shame if the world didn’t see this outfit.”

His pants were adorned with neon orange details and the shirt had the words ~SWEAT AND HUSTLE~ emblazoned on the front.

“You don’t have to come, Trip. You can stay and sleep in if you want—”

“I can keep up,” he teased. “I’m actually worried about your pace. I’m taller and stronger. I might just overtake you.”

His challenge ignited something in me. I felt a grin spread across my face and Trip mirrored it. “Again,” I said, “it’s about endurance.”

“I’ve got plenty of that,” he said, winking at me. “Trust me.”

I stood frozen, my cheeks flushed, and my stomach fluttering with nerves. Trip laughed as he held the backdoor open for me. “Loser cooks dinner tonight.”

I hesitated, shifting my weight onto the balls of my feet before I took off, leaving a trail of laughter behind me.

I bolted through the door and across the grass, my knees stiff as my body warmed up.

Trip’s heavy footsteps caught up a moment later, and I felt a thrill run down my spine at the prospect of a chase. I heard his breath, heard a shake of laughter, and pushed myself to go faster.

I ducked and lunged, navigating the northern wood with more attention than I usually gave to my familiar path.

I gritted my teeth as I caught Trip in the corner of my eye. He was matching my pace with ease. He had a smug smile on his face as he extended his long legs.

A light growl slipped from my lips as I dug in, using all the strength in my thighs to push further with each stride.

“Is this as fast as you can go?” he taunted, glancing over before jumping away to avoid a low-hanging branch. I didn’t dignify him with an answer but kept pushing.

He swerved closer, narrowly avoiding a thicket of thorns. “I expected more.”

“Distance,” I growled out, my lungs heaving and my throat already burning.

He grinned cockily. “And I thought you were scout material.”

I threw my elbow into his side. He made a surprised sound and tripped, falling to the ground and rolling with momentum. I heard him swear, chuckle, growl.

I cast a smug look over my shoulder, seeing him sitting with his hands on his knees and a dazed smile on his face. “Sorry!” I shouted. “Accident!”

He shook his head and then got back up. I whipped around and kicked back into my sprint, the backs of my calves stinging as I started to feel the slight incline.

My mind felt sharpened by the challenge; my heart pumped with both nerves and fatigue.

My smugness didn’t last for long as Trip launched himself past me, his ridiculous neon workout gear disappearing into the thick wood.

I was stunned for a moment, but then the competitiveness in me, cultivated by two older brothers, ignited.

I ran hard, my arms working to propel me forward as my feet dug into the earth. My breath was steady and rhythmic as I paced how much air I drew in, careful not to take too much or little.

I caught sight of the alpha a few feet away, his pace dipping as he overexerted himself.

I stalked behind him for a few hundred feet before I gradually started to increase my pace, a slow smile spreading as I gained on him, step by step.

I drank in the look of shock on his face when I matched his pace.

“Impressive,” he conceded.

I lifted my shoulder in a shrug but didn’t respond, staying focused on my breathing.

He growled lightly. “But I’m an alpha,” he said, “and I can’t be beaten.”

I only smirked in response as I recalled the one ranking member of any pack who could best even an alpha.

The luna.

I buckled down and increased the length of my stride, overtaking him by a few feet.

I hovered there, letting him get used to the taste of defeat before I pushed forward, my stride seemingly boundless as my body took off.

An exhilarated laugh peeled away from my throat as I ran. Victory was settling in nicely.

The trees started to thin as I ran, the thick deciduous trees replaced by a sparse collection of coniferous.

I felt the difference underfoot too; the change from thick grass and rich dirt to tiny rocks and a layer of pine needles.

“Caroline!” Trip shouted behind me, his voice ragged.

I grinned again, pushing harder. He wasn’t used to losing. “Catch up!” I shouted over my shoulder.

“Wait!” he shouted between bursts of heavy breathing. I heard him crashing through the trees behind me, his desperation to win had stolen away his finesse. “Wait!”

I threw a grin over my shoulder, watching as he barreled toward me, his eyes and mouth wide as he flat out sprinted.

“Don’t be a sore—”

I shrieked as the ground under my foot started to dip downward and my next footstep landed on uneven ground.

“Caroline!” Trip shouted distantly. His voice sounded muffled, as if my ears had been stuffed with cotton.

I pinwheeled my arms backward as I whipped around to see a cliff in front of me, rocks spilling down the side of the chasm from where I was scrambling for purchase.

My efforts to find my balance were futile as my body careened toward the drop and my shoulders started to fall over my knees.

The breath was knocked from my lungs as a heavy arm slung around my torso, digging painfully into my diaphragm as I was yanked backward.

My feet flew out in front of me, sending more rocks and dirt flying down the side of the cliff.

I saw the sky and then felt my back collide with the Trip’s front and the back of my head connected with his chin.

For one terrifying moment, both of our bodies started to dip toward the cliff; the slight incline and momentum were ready to pull us down to our deaths.

With a grunt and a surge of power, Trip yanked us backward, his muscular legs kicking and feet digging into the earth before he propelled us up and away.

Trip’s grip was unyielding and I couldn’t draw breath. But I didn’t mind, I clung to him just as fiercely as he hauled us backward, moving us away from the precipice.

I gazed up at the sky as we lay there, Trip’s chest rising and falling beneath me as we both fought to fill our exhausted lungs with air.

I was still gripping his arms and his hands were still buried in my shirt, my skin.

“Shit,” he breathed out, letting go of me abruptly. I rolled to the side, pulling myself to my knees as I blinked away the darkness encroaching on my vision.

Trip was sprawled out on his back, gazing up at the sky as he cursed again and rubbed his eyes.

“Thank you,” I breathed out, my throat raw from fear and exhaustion.

His green eyes flicked to mine before he gave his head a rough shake and closed his eyes.

I fell back onto my butt, bringing one hand to my head as I glanced over my shoulder at the cliff. It was a fall that would’ve ended me, there was no question about that.

Even if I had survived the plunge, it would only be to endure a few more minutes of excruciating pain before succumbing to the severity of the injuries.

I shivered.

Without any preamble or word, Trip shot up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to his chest and burying his face in the crook of my neck.

He took a few deep breaths, and I felt his pulse pounding.

After a stunned moment, I wrapped my arms around him, too, leaning into the strong body that had saved me.

He pulled me closer, cursing again as he let out a long breath. I felt it rush down my back; felt the goosebumps it raised.

We disentangled after a few minutes, neither one of us meeting the other’s gaze as he cleared his throat and I stood, brushing off my pants.

I turned and crossed my arms over my chest as I looked out over the drop, feeling again the phantom of the death I had narrowly escaped.

Trip stood beside me with his arms resting on his hips as he squinted against the rising sun. He glanced down at me, shuffled slightly on his feet, and then said, “Beautiful view.”

I bit my lip, bit down on my tongue, covered my mouth, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face or the laugh from bubbling up.

A moment later, we were both laughing uncontrollably.

We walked back slowly, close enough for our shoulders to brush every few steps. Trip kept glancing down at me, almost as if checking I was still there.

I continued with shaky legs, my muscles trembling after the run and the shock.

“You’re a strong runner,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

I peeked at him. He seemed thoughtful. “I run every day.”

“Pays off,” he observed. “It’s a good skill to have if we’re ever in danger.”

My skin prickled. “Are you expecting danger?”

His lips tightened and turned. “I always do,” he told me. “It’s the only way to be ready in case it ever really does show up on your doorstep.”

I pondered this. Along with his time in the army, I couldn’t help but wonder what he had been through.

The yearning for intimacy flared again.

“We’ll have to take a less dangerous path tomorrow,” I said softly, my nerves spiking as I waited for his response; for a rejection that part of me believed to be inevitable.

Trip’s smile was gentle and hopeful. “I think that might be a good idea.”

We laughed and I bumped my shoulder against his lightly. His grin turned crooked as he darted forward a few steps. He held a challenge in his eyes as he bounced on his feet.

“Don’t you think one near-death run was enough for the day?” I asked.

He shrugged and shouted, “See you at home!”

I stopped walking as I watched him sprint off.

~Home.~

I smiled and then wiped it from my face, clearing my throat as I placed my hands on my hips.

He wasn’t my home. My home was a cramped house with my parents, my brothers. Tyler Trip and his alpha estate couldn’t be home. Not yet.

I gave my head a quick shake and then took off running, chasing him through the woods until we arrived in his backyard, almost at the same time.

We laughed and struggled for breath, walking off muscle cramps and teasing one another.

It felt natural to tease him, to pace around his backyard and playfully shove his shoulder. It felt natural to be at his side, rise to his challenges, and exceed his expectations.

I was about to run inside to grab us some water when I heard movement from the side yard.

Trip heard it, too, and without much thought at all, he moved in front of me, holding one hand out slowly to the side.

“Hello?” he grunted, all the playfulness and ease gone from his body. I blinked at the switch, at the swift transformation, from my friend to the alpha.

“Alpha.” My heart sank at the sound of my father’s voice. He came around the side of the house, his hands wringing in front of him. “Can we speak?”

Trip looked back at me for a split second, but I was staring at my father, feeling dread wash over me. “Dad,” I interjected sharply, “why are—?”

My father held up his hand to silence me. I saw Trip’s expression twist. “Please, Caroline, this is between me and the alpha.”

Trip’s jaw was set, hard. “Let’s talk.”