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“So you still live life as a priest even though you can’t be one anymore? Isn’t that a special kind of torture?”
“Technically, I stopped being a priest the day my heart ceased beating and I woke without a soul. Some habits...” He sighed, looking uncomfortable. “There’s solace in habits. More in pain. Perhaps it is my destiny to be tortured. For what punishments of God are not gifts?”
“We’ve gone this long without you spouting scripture at me. Let’s keep it that way.”
His lips twitched, and the sight of his amusement made my stomach flutter.
“What would you like me to spout at you, then?”
Was he... flirting? On the heels of that thought came another. One I was desperate to know the answer to.
“Are you still... you know... celibate?” My cheeks burned from the deeply personal question I had dared to ask, but I had to know.
He turned slowly to look at me, his expression unreadable, and I found myself getting lost in eyes so blue they appeared black in the darkness.
Before he could answer—assuming he ever intended to—three wolves sprang from the trees on our left. I recognized Kingston’s scent instantly, the pull of my wolf to his strong. He stopped and stared at us, eyes glowing, intensely focused on me, as though asking me to shed my human form and join them as they ran.
“Do you want to join them?” Caleb’s voice was low and measured. I couldn’t tell if he wanted me to say yes or no.
I shook my head, and Kingston must’ve seen it as rejection because he let out a low growl. “No. Even if I wanted to, I still can’t shift.”
“Have you made any progress with your wolf?”
“I have, a little. Kingston did something when we were paired during Sanderson’s class. He unlocked the cage my wolf was in, but she still can’t get out.”
Caleb pressed his lips together, giving me a shrewd look before turning his attention on Kingston, who was still staring in our direction. “Perhaps the two of you should spend more time together? It sounds like being around a dominant wolf is good practice for you.”
I glanced at Kingston and then back at Caleb. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was right. “Set it up.”
Caleb’s hands balled into tight fists, as though something about me being with Kingston bothered him. But he’d been the one to suggest it. Men were so complicated. Kingston gave a little huff before bounding away in the direction of the rest of his pack, leaving me to walk back to my dorm with a former priest who may or may not be celibate. Either way, Father Caleb Gallagher definitely gave more sinner vibes than saint every time I saw him.
