Chapter 3: Tangled in the Sheets

Caleb’s grip was ironclad, his breath ragged. I could feel his pulse through my skin, the air between us thick with something I didn’t dare name.

"Anna, you shouldn’t have come." His voice was raw, desperate—a warning and a plea.

His eyes, bloodshot and wild, made me realize how little I truly knew him. My hands shook, but I tried to hide it.

Then, in a blur, he tore my clothes. The sound of fabric ripping was sharp, final. They were new—Aunt had picked them out, and I winced, knowing she’d scold me for ruining them.

He bent down and pressed his mouth to my neck, hard enough to leave a mark. I flinched, breath catching, a startled cry escaping my lips. The room went silent, and for a moment, he just stared at me, dazed and lost.

Was this what Aunt meant by being the antidote? I didn’t understand how I was supposed to help him—what rules I was supposed to follow. “Caleb, are you going to eat me alive?” I half-joked, my voice trembling.

He blinked, almost surprised. “If you want to marry me, after today, I’ll take responsibility. If you don’t, go out and have the neighbors bring a bucket of cold water.”

The choice was a heavy one—public shame, or this. I thought about dusty roads and lonely nights back in my hometown, of being nobody’s responsibility but my own. Here, at least, I had a chance.

“I’m willing to stay,” I whispered, voice trembling. Part of me wanted to run, part of me wanted to stay and see what would happen if I didn’t.

Caleb stopped holding back. The tension snapped, and the night blurred into waves of heat and need—like a leaf caught in a storm, spinning wherever the wind wanted. I’d never known surrender could feel both terrifying and sweet.

When daylight crept in, I fell into a deep sleep. I woke to a mosquito biting my forehead, and for a second, I just wanted to cry—guilt, relief, and fear tangled up inside me. My throat ached with the tears I wouldn’t let fall. I didn’t know if I was ashamed, or just overwhelmed by everything I’d lost and found in a single night.

Why didn’t Aunt warn me? Being the antidote felt like being thrown to the wolves.