Lee was right—the truck was too big. Five years' worth of Sawyer's life fit into three cardboard boxes that Caleb and Lee wedged between the old couch and her mattress. Sawyer watched all of this from a distance, leaning her head on her mother's shoulder, a kaleidoscope of emotions playing across her face.

Harvey, Sawyer's employer/landlord, arrived as they were locking up. Caleb's and Lee's eyes narrowed at the same time, ready to spring into action if needed. But the merman was small and scrawny, with blue-streaked hair and three pale lines on either side of his olive-skinned neck—not exactly the robust specimen played out on TV and splashed across women's magazines. He hesitated at the sight of four werewolves crammed into the hallway, two of whom were obviously preparing for confrontation; but he squared his shoulders and marched over to Sawyer's father. Without a word, the merman snatched the check and keys Mr Bloodmoon held out and disappeared down the rickety stairs. The whole encounter took less than a minute.

Sawyer sighed heavily. "That's it, then, huh?"

Caleb squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It is," he murmured. He wouldn't miss a shithole like this, but it had to be different for her. Five years was a long time to be in a place.

"Are you coming with us, Caleb?" Mrs Bloodmoon asked, retrieving car keys from her purse.

Sawyer's fingers fluttered in Caleb's grasp; his heart dropped as she looked up at him expectantly. "I'm sorry, but I can't," he replied, running his thumb over the back of Sawyer's hand. "I've got to go home and get ready for my shift."

Her shoulders slumped briefly, then her expression brightened. "Shift?" she repeated. "Are you a fireman now?"

"I am," he told her with a grin.

"I'm so proud of you," Sawyer exclaimed, turning and hugging him. "It's what you always wanted to do."

"Mm-hm," he replied, nuzzling her neck and drinking in her scent. Goddess, he was going to be so distracted tonight.

"I hate to pull the two of you apart," Mr Bloodmoon said, "but we have to return the truck by five."

Slowly, Caleb lifted his head and pushed lavender strands of hair behind Sawyer's ear. "I'll text you tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered.

Before Sawyer could pull away, Caleb leaned down and kissed her, reigniting the fire that burned in his soul for her. Sawyer's hands slipped beneath his shirt, sliding up his back, threatening to undo him. Distantly, Caleb heard Mrs Bloodmoon call out to her husband and son; the main door opened and closed, leaving the two of them in the hallway. Werewolves were very liberal when it came to affection, but even they had their limits.

"I have my own place now," he murmured, nibbling along her jaw line as his hands cupped her ass. "No more sex in the forest."

"But that was fun," she replied, pressing up against him.

Yes, Caleb remembered exactly how much fun they'd had—in the cave by the swimming hole, tucked beneath the roots of a massive tree ... Just as he was ready to break down her old apartment door, Caleb slowly drew back and took a deep breath to settle himself. "We should go," he told her softly.

Sawyer's bright blue gaze met his. "Yeah," she agreed sadly, shoulders slumping.

Caleb cupped her face between his two large hands. "It'll be all right, Savvy. I promise." Deep down, she had to realize that.

Her eyes slid downwards; the old Sawyer faded into the background before his eyes, replaced by the tired, beaten-down faerie who had called this corner of HecateCity home for the last five years. Without saying a word, she turned towards the door and began walking down the hall. Caleb stood there for a moment, taken aback. She had just been so happy a moment ago. What happened?

She's in more pain than you know, a small voice told Caleb sharply as he followed behind Sawyer.

At that moment, Caleb realized the severity of the situation. He stumbled in the hallway and put a hand out to steady himself on the wall. Sawyer didn't notice and continued out the door and down the stairs.

His grandfather had broken something inside of her and it was going to take a lot more than simply bringing her back home to her family to fix it.

Goddess, I don't know what to do, he realized—and it scared him. He could pull people from burning buildings, think critically in intense situations, and haul a hundred pounds of equipment with ease—but this was entirely different. There was no simple solution, no easy path to take. You have to be there for her, the small voice noted. Yes, he could do that.

He would do that.

Gathering his shaken confidence back together, Caleb took a deep breath and left the apartment.

------------

It took all of Caleb's energy to concentrate on the drive home and not let his thoughts wander. Wrapping his car around a traffic light would not make things better. When he got back to Clan Stillwater, he parked the Charger in his driveway and started to walk up to the house; a strange feeling prickled at the back of his neck, stirring his werewolf instincts. Something is different ... Slowly turning around, he hiked up the hill to his parents' house and entered the kitchen through the back door.

Immediately, he sensed the presence of strangers in the house and tensed when he spied two unfamiliar people sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Mom? Dad?" Caleb called out cautiously, shutting the door behind him.

"Caleb?" His mother emerged from down the hall. "I'm so glad you stopped by, honey," she said as she entered the kitchen.

Still wary, Caleb stared at the unfamiliar pair as he asked, "Who are they? Did Grandpa send them?"

Mom's eyes widened, then relaxed. "Oh, goddess no. But he can't find out that they're here until your father receives the Authority."

Drawn by their conversation in the kitchen, the pair on the couch turned towards Caleb and his mother. He glanced down at her. "Then who are they?"

Mom flashed Caleb a little smile. "Why don't we introduce you, hm? Everyone into the dining room!" she called out. Looping her arm through his, Mom led Caleb into the adjacent room, where six place settings were arranged, along with several covered dishes. Naomi wandered in first, grinning at Caleb. That immediately told him that something was up.

The pair, a man and woman whose ages could be anywhere from forty to a hundred-and-twenty thanks to supernatural aging, entered the room next. The woman was tall and athletic, with long chestnut hair threaded with grey; the man was slightly taller, with the best posture Caleb had ever seen and short, grass-green hair sprinkled with white.

A faerie, Caleb realized, startled. A werewolf and faerie couple.

"Caleb, sweetheart," Mom began, "this is Artem and Lydia Skorokhodov. Lydia is your grandmother." She smiled tenderly.

Your grandmother.

Caleb jerked back as if he'd been hit. The woman standing across the room from him was a legend for one reason and one reason only—leaving his grandfather. And that was literally all Caleb knew. She might as well have turned into mist and blown away by the wind, erased from memory. No one would talk about her, and Caleb learned never to mention her in his grandfather's presence early on. Even though he had remarried, the very mention of his first wife's name sent Owen Stillwater into a rage.

Unsure of how to react to this information, Caleb gingerly approached the pair. "Hello, Caleb," Lydia—his grandmother—greeted, holding out her hands.

Automatically, Caleb reached out, folding his fingers over hers in a firm, but gentle grip. "H-hi," he found himself stammering, glancing over at his father for confirmation. Ryan Stillwater smiled, practically radiating happiness in a way Caleb had never seen his father.

"It's so nice to finally meet you in person," his grandmother continued, looking over at her husband. "I didn't think this day would ever come."

Caleb stared at her, then back at his parents. "I don't understand—"

Lydia smiled sadly. "Why don't we have a seat, hm?"

Yes, sitting down seemed appropriate after the day he was having. Lydia indicated the dining table, drawing him around to the far side; Caleb sat next to her, his grandmother still holding onto his hand.

"Well," Lydia began after loosing a long breath. "When your grandfather and I met, he was the sweetest boy—very attentive and romantic." Her lips curved slightly at the edges as she smiled at some far-away memory. "We married young for the time and soon after, I had your father. Our home life was simple, normal, loving. But that all changed after Owen's father was killed in a brawl."

Caleb blinked. He knew little of how his great-grandfather had died, gleaning information here and there through whispers at Festivals. Brawls were generally a thing of the past; these days, disputes between werewolves were settled civilly—in court.

Lydia paused and glanced at Caleb. "Owen flew into a rage. They had to bury the beta who killed your great-grandfather in a small box—that's how bad it was. Leon's death affected Owen more deeply than I could have ever imagined. Overnight, he became a different person—dark, resentful, suspicious, obsessed with control." She sighed. "I won't get into too many details, but eventually, it became too much for me to take. The man I loved was gone.

"Around the time I was contemplating leaving Owen, a Russian ballet company came into the city. My friends urged me to go out and I went. That's where I met Artem."

Caleb looked around his grandmother to the faerie. Ballet dancer. No wonder his posture was amazing.

"Your grandmother came to nearly every performance," Artem said, taking up the thread of the story. His accent was strong, but not impossible to understand. "Eventually, I kept noticing the same striking woman in the audience and began wondering who she was." He turned to smile fondly at Lydia. "One night, I convinced her to have dinner with me and that's when she told me her story. By this time, I was already a little in love with her, and that only grew as the weeks went on. Eventually, we had to move to the next city; I begged her to come with me and bring her son along."

Lydia smiled sadly, squeezing Caleb's hand. "I tried to take your father with me, but someone tipped Owen off. I had to leave my five-year-old boy in his father's house and ran away with Artem that night as Owen's enforcers chased us." Two tears formed at the corners of her eyes which she briskly swept away.

Caleb sat there, stunned. His grandmother left his grandfather for a faerie.

No wonder Owen hated faeries. No wonder he flew into a rage when he found Caleb and Sawyer together.

Oh, goddess. It was so obvious! Why hadn't he realized it before?

Artem continued, "We managed to smuggle letters from your grandmother to Ryan."

Dad shifted in his chair. "I had to keep it quiet for years," he said somberly. "Only your mother knew."

"Now that Grandpa's stepping down, they're back," Naomi said, rocking back and forth eagerly.

"And no one can know," Dad said, leaning forward. "No one—not even Sawyer," he added, more sternly than Caleb had ever heard his father speak before. "Not yet."

Numbly, Caleb nodded. He leaned back in his chair, a headache building. It pulsed sharply, stabbing into the corner of one eye.

"Are you all right, dear?" Lydia inquired, tilting her head.

Caleb knuckled the affected eye. "I've had a long day," he admitted. Which was only going to get longer once he went to work.

Naomi looked him up and down discerningly as their mother set another place setting for him. "Does that mean you and Sawyer ...?" She raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Oh, goddess!" Mom exclaimed, handing Caleb a glass of water and an aspirin. "Yes! How did it go with Sawyer?"

"He's wearing the same clothes, Mom, how do you think it went?" Naomi replied with a mischievous grin.

Caleb was too weary to kick her under the table.

Lydia looked over at him. "Who is Sawyer?"

Caleb popped the aspirin and chased it down with a large gulp of water. His sister answered for him instead. "Sawyer is his girlfriend. Grandpa ran her off five years ago."

"She's a faerie," Caleb explained, willing the aspirin to hurry up and work.

"Oh, my," Lydia said, glancing at her husband, worry in her brown eyes.

"I guess it runs in the family," Naomi quipped, chuckling.

"But Sawyer?" Dad prompted, motioning for Naomi to quiet down.

"Her parents and Lee came by her apartment this morning with a moving van," Caleb explained. "We loaded everything up and they took her home."

Mom's face lit up. "Oh! Ronnie must be so relieved! I'll have to call her later."

Lydia touched Caleb's arm. He turned to look at his grandmother. "You must tell me about this Sawyer," she said brightly. "I need to know everything about my grandchildren. I've missed so much—so much ..." She trailed off, shaking her head as the tears began to flow. Artem put an arm around her shoulders and for a moment, Caleb was struck at how similar the gesture was to how he had comforted Sawyer earlier.

"Of ... course," he told her, feeling his own throat tightening with emotion.

"Eat," Mom said softly, putting a large salad bowl down in front of them. She gripped his shoulder and then turned to grab another platter from the kitchen.

So, as he put salad on his plate, Caleb began to tell his grandmother and her husband all about his girlfriend.