5. Chaotic Feelings
1894 Words
Elena's POV:
The freaking snowstorm only got stronger—angrier, louder—like the whole mountain suddenly decided I was the problem and needed to be trapped inside with the one man I absolutely shouldn’t have been trapped with. It was not good for my health... my brain and... other parts, that had been overworking.
Like my heart.
Ok, I was lying.
Wind slapped the windows hard enough to rattle the glass.
Yeah. No one was going anywhere. Not me, especially.
"Snowman," the boy said again, clapping his hands.
Perfect weather to build a snowman. Of course.
Milo was already bouncing in place at the idea, but what really caught me off guard was Caleb’s expression when he looked at Milo—like everything soft and bright in the world was molded into that tiny five-year-old body. I wasn’t prepared for how that sight punched me straight in the heart, making it stutter.
God, they were beautiful together.
The kind of beautiful that hurt your heart. That swayed your determination.
Milo was sweet and open and warm in a way I didn’t think existed anymore. He made me feel… included. Wanted. And it had been a while since I felt like wanted anywhere, except with Harper.
But Caleb Monroe was impossible to decipher. A flicker of warmth one second, a cold front the next. Like he didn’t know whether to smile at me or throw me out into the snow and call it a day.
"Fine, but you are wearing everything we can find."
Milo bounded toward his father, excitement shining in his eyes.
“Thank you, Daddy,” Milo said, hugging his leg.
Without thinking, I echoed, all soft and stupid and glowing, “Yeah, thank you, Daddy.”
It slipped out.
It slipped out.
My brain froze. My soul left my body. Every ancestor I had collectively slapped me at once.
Oh my Goddess…
I bit my tongue. What the f**k did I just do? If I could take it back... just...
Maybe he hadn't heard it?
He did hear it. Of course.
Caleb’s head snapped up, eyes wide—and then narrowing. Sharp. Hot. Blue eyes darkened, flashed with something dangerously delicious. My stomach clenched.
Our eyes collided, and the air was suddenly hot, crackling with tension.
Everything changed.
Thickened. Warmed. Almost… humming.
A slow heat crawled up the back of my neck when I saw the way he looked at me. Not annoyed. Not offended. No—his gaze burned. Like... he was already imagining me tied up... to his bed, begging him to--
Calm the f**k down, heart!
His gaze was slow. Deliberate. Searching.
Like he was trying to figure out why the word Daddy coming out of my mouth hit him like a touch, like a breath, like a secret meant only for him.
My cheeks flamed. My heartbeat tripped over itself. My body overheated, and I felt like only his touch could help.
His wolf stirred behind his eyes—I saw it, a flicker of gold, a flicker of something hungry and surprised. His body tensed.
Caleb swallowed hard, jaw tightening.
I mirrored the movement before I could stop myself.
Neither of us spoke.
We didn’t need to.
There was a thread—thin, electric—pulling tight between us. Invisible but unmistakable, tugging at my ribs, tugging at my pulse, tugging at something low in my stomach.
Heat curled through me, quiet and unwelcome and too much, and... the images in my head was totally illegal to think, especially not when a little boy was just standing between us.
Milo tugged on my sleeve, breaking the spell. “Can we build a snowman now?”
I exhaled shakily, tearing my eyes away from Caleb’s. “Y-yeah. Snowman. That sounds… great.”
But even as I turned to Milo, I felt Caleb’s gaze on my skin.
Like a hand. Pressing. Like a brand on my heated skin.
My throat tightened.
“Yeah, snowman time!” Milo shouted, excited, bringing me back from the high of Caleb's eyes.
And just like that, the tension snapped, sending both Caleb and me stumbling back into our own bodies.
“Yeah,” Caleb said gruffly. “Let’s go before the snow became big enough to eat us.”
I snorted. “Very reassuring.”
"Go wear your jacket," he said to me, walking Milo to his room to change his clothes.
When we walked out of the cabin door, we were bundled up—me in my coat and a scarf so big it was basically a personality, Caleb in a dark jacket that looked too good on him for my peace of mind, and Milo in full puffball attire—we stepped outside, to the howling snow, which was a terrible idea, but Milo was barely deterred.
The cold wind slapped us immediately.
"s**t," I muttered and then bit my tongue when I looked at Milo. He didn't hear me curse. I sighed. I had always lived alone, and did everything as I pleased. This was... a bit different, but I liked it, the difference.
“This is cool.” Milo shouted, flopping into the snow. “Snowman!”
Caleb groaned. “You can’t just summon one like magic, buddy. We have to build one with—”
Milo threw a snowball at him.
Right in Caleb's chest. Caleb groaned.
I clapped a hand over my mouth to hide the laugh that escaped.
Caleb turned slowly, dramatically, eyes narrowed. “Oh. We’re doing this?”
Milo shrieked with delight as Caleb growled playfully. The boy then looked at me, before bolting toward me, hiding behind me.
"We, a team," Milo said to his daddy, challenging him. The little one was sneaky as hell... He knew how to take advantage of the situation, and was very subtle about it already.
I shook my head, laughing.
"That's not going to save you, buddy," Caleb warned.
Then, to my shock, Caleb scooped up a huge handful of snow and packed it with the seriousness of a man preparing for war, and stared at us, eyes narrowed.
“Don’t you dare,” I warned. "No."
He dared.
The snowball splattered against my coat, half sliding to fall on Milo's beanie-covered head.
"Daddy..." Milo shrieked.
My mouth fell open as I looked into his gleaming blue eyes. He looked mischievious as hell.
“Oh, it’s so on, Alpha Monroe.”
"Caleb," he corrected again. My eyes went to his lips, loving the way they moved.
"Caleb, you are going down..." I shouted, pulling Milo behind a tall pine tree.
Then there was only chaos.
I made snowballs, handing it to Milo, who was sneakier than I thought he could be. Caleb got hit by the snow more time than we were.
There was snow everywhere. Shrieks. Mock threats and laughter—the real kind, from deep in the ribs.
I hadn't laughed like this in so long. I smiled until my cheeks ached. For so long, I had been missing something. My mother's death and then Jason... it was all too much that I often drowned myself in my work, which became a routine.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped living, and enjoying every second of it.
Somewhere along the way, I started doing things out of routine, and not out of love.
Harper was right to book me a vacation... but of course, I wouldn't be telling her that.
"Daddy, times out," Milo said, giggling so hard he fell over.
"You and Elena lose," Caleb said. "Accept defeat."
"No," I said, smiling. "We are winning, Milo. We won't surrender."
"I won't hold back," he threatened mockingly, "no matter how cute you both look!"
He didn't even realize he called me cute...
But I did, and my heart raced, inconveniently fast.
"Oh, nobody asked you to, Alpha, but don't cry when you lose. Come on, bud, let's destroy your daddy!"
Milo laughed, grabbing my hand.
Somewhere between throwing snowballs and Milo trying to eat them, I realized something…
Caleb was enjoying this. Actually enjoying it, and so was I. The tension in his shoulders loosened, and the tension I carried also melted off with the snow.
We didn’t build that snowman at all, but we did end up in a full-blown snowball war—one Caleb was absolutely convinced he won, even though he blatantly cheated. Now all three of us were shivering, teeth clicking like castanets.
I hugged myself, trying not to let my fingers go numb. Caleb glanced at me, something warm flickering in his eyes, before he scooped Milo into his arms.
“Inside. Now,” he said firmly. “Before your fingers fall off.”
“I need them,” Milo said with a deadly serious expression. “For coloring.”
Caleb snorted. “Exactly. And I need them to make your hot chocolate.”
That earned a delighted squeal. Milo sprang out of his arms and raced to the cottage, already forgetting he had been near-frozen five seconds ago.
Caleb and I stayed behind, catching our breath, snow melting off our coats. His stare softened. Warmed. Tightened something low in my stomach.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “For playing with him. You didn’t have to…”
I arched a brow, letting a smirk curl my lips.
“Oh, please. You can thank me by admitting you lost the fight.”
His jaw dropped. “Lost? I didn’t lose, Elena Hart. You were the one who lost.”
“I didn’t lose,” I said, crossing my arms. “I was temporarily blinded by your unfair tactics.”
He stepped closer, the heat of him rolling across the cold air. “My tactics were perfectly fair. You threw a snowball in my face while I was helping Milo fix his gloves.”
I gasped theatrically. “You act like you weren’t aiming for my head the entire time!”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling. “I don't admit anything. I won fair and square, and you were behind the tree hiding like a terrified squirrel.”
“I was strategizing.”
“Oh?” He lifted a brow. “Right.”
“Shut up," I said, bumping against his shoulder.
He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Not admitting defeat, huh?”
“Never.”
His eyes dragged over my face, lingering for a heartbeat too long. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m starting to see that.”
For a breath, neither of us moved. The snow fell softly around us, thick and quiet, settling on our hair, on our coats, on the space between us that suddenly felt too small.
My heart pounded.
I wanted to close the distance... and kiss those tempting lips... That would warm me, quite efficiently.
NO, I warned myself. It would be so easy to slip into old habits, but... we were not going there.
Then Milo yelled from inside, “DADDY, HURRY! I’M COLD!”
Caleb blinked, and the spell broke.
He cleared his throat. “We should—uh—go inside.”
“Yeah,” I said, voice a little too soft. “And you promised a hot chocolate."
"I did," he whispered, and then... he raised a finger hesitantly... rubbing it against my hair, grabbing a flurry of leaf from it. "There..."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome!"
(-)
- Writer
