Somewhere New (Isle of Doughnut #1)

Chapter Thirty-One

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

ASTER

I almost thought Callum wouldn’t say it. I almost told him he didn’t have to.

He stood before me with tears escaping his wide eyes, his shoulders tight and high. He was clearly desperate not to talk about this, determined to keep his secret. But that wasn’t fair.

I’d genuinely assumed his family secret was an awful thing his ancestors had done, maybe something that affected Naomi’s family badly enough that the repercussions echoed through the generations.

I’d had no inkling it could be something like this. I’d been reading the book Frank gave me with the sure knowledge the bit about mystical creatures was absolute tosh.

But it wasn’t tosh. Not at all. I was almost a hundred per cent certain one of those creatures stood in front of me. Since Callum used milk rather than pints of blood to make his porridge in the morning, all the strange things I’d noticed could only add up to one conclusion.

He must have stood above me for a whole minute, neither of us saying a word. I was tempted to back down, but the compassionate part of me was drowned under the roar of a much angrier beast.

Callum’s shoulders slumped. ‘I’m a werewolf.’

I’d half believed it, sure the speed and healing and all the other stuff could be explained away. At his words, the knowledge snapped into my head. Along with a whole heap of outrage.

‘You’re a fucking werewolf.’ I stood up and circled the sofa, putting it between us. ‘You’re a motherfucking werewolf.’

Callum watched me like he was prey caught in a trap, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I might have thought the creature bit of Frank’s book was nonsense, but the details stuck in my head nonetheless. Callum was the furthest from vulnerable that something could be. If the book was to be believed, the guy standing before me was one of the strongest creatures around, capable of amazing feats of healing and speed, his senses unrivalled. An apex predator.

And I was so fucking pissed off at him.

‘I’m so fucking pissed off at you,’ I told him.

I didn’t get angry easily. Lucas claimed I was prone to dramatics, but most stuff didn’t really rile me up. The knocks life threw my way bounced off, but when something came along that actually pissed me off, it was consuming.

I brought my fist down on the back of the sofa. The action wasn’t as satisfying as I’d hoped, especially when the predator across from me flinched.

‘You got so fucking mad at me for not telling you I was a witch,’ I snarled. ‘How is this any different? Do I get to tell you to leave now?’

I knew I was lashing out, knew I was hurting someone who was already hurting, but I couldn’t stop myself. Callum had made me feel so bad for hiding something from him, while he was doing the same.

Callum wiped his tears away. ‘I can leave.’

‘I don’t fucking want you to leave,’ I snapped. ‘I’m just angry at you. You made me feel so bad for hiding my magic from you.’

Callum bowed his head, clearly resolved to absorb every blow I flung at him. It was too much to deal with right now.

‘I need space.’

I strode over to the door. Callum hadn’t removed my boots or coat, so I didn’t have to do anything other than grab my bag and yank open the door.

I paused on the threshold. I was running on furious indignation, but I wasn’t a total dick.

‘I’ll be back,’ I said over my shoulder, unwilling to witness how broken Callum looked. ‘I’m annoyed, but it’ll pass.’

I stomped out into the night. Light flooded from the kitchen window. I walked as far as it reached, then stood still. Anger coursed through my veins, but I didn’t know what to do with it. Normally, I would call Lukey and rant about whatever injustice I was suffering under until I ran out of steam. That wasn’t an option. I was fairly certain my best friend would be far more interested in my magical abilities and the existence of werewolves than Callum hiding his true nature from me.

I stabbed my thumb at someone else’s number instead. Before she could say hello, I blurted out, ‘Werewolves are real, then.’

Bonnie cackled. ‘Did my brother finally grow a pair and tell you?’

‘Technically, yes.’ It might not be nice to bitch about Callum with his sister, but at least she knew the situation. It was a family secret, after all. ‘But only after I figured it out.’

‘Hard to live in close proximity with someone and not realise they’re a beastie.’ She tutted. ‘Although you probably would have clocked it sooner if you hadn’t been distracted by all the sex.’

‘You have a weird obsession with talking about me and your brother getting it on. You should see someone about that,’ I snapped. ‘But anyway. Callum made such a big deal of me hiding my magic, when he was doing exactly the same thing.’

Bonnie sucked in a breath. ‘Not exactly the same.’

‘How is this not the same?’ I kicked at the ground, half wishing it was Callum’s face. ‘We were both hiding things. We could have both revealed them at the same time, but Callum kept lying to me.’

‘Yeah, but why did you keep your secret?’ Bonnie asked, her voice uncharacteristically serious.

That cut through my righteous anger. I’d expected to bash Callum with her, not examine our secret-keeping motivations. ‘My dad said it was best to. Not many people know actual magic exists any more. They might not like it.’

‘Callum has all that going on too. But, as has recently been shared with me, he also believed for a long time that the first person he ever told about being a furry moon-lover then killed almost our entire family. That would make him understandably afraid to tell anyone else about it, don’t you think?’

‘Oh, fuck,’ I breathed.

‘You see, Aster. Once you’ve studied people as much as I have, you come to appreciate?—’

I ended the call and shoved my phone in my bag.

All the anger drained from me. Callum hiding what he was hadn’t been anything like me hiding my magic. He had been terrified of anyone finding out, had been so deathly scared that he would do anything to keep his secret.

He hadn’t hidden it from me because he wanted to or because he didn’t trust me, but because the fear that had lived inside of his head since his family died told him he had to.

I only stumbled over one unusually tall tuft of grass as I ran towards the cabin.