Chapter 22 After the Storm
Ryder POV
I wake with my back against Jolie's door and every muscle in my body screaming. Three days of sitting in the same position will do that. But I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
The room's quiet now. Her scent has faded from that overwhelming heat to something softer, though it still makes my wolf pace restlessly.
I push to my feet, joints popping, and look at the bed. She's asleep finally, curled into a tight ball under the blankets. Her face is pale, dark circles under her eyes, hair tangled on the pillow.
She looks destroyed. And beautiful. And mine in a way that has nothing to do with claiming and everything to do with trust.
I should leave. Let her rest. But my wolf won't let me walk away, so I compromise. I move to the chair in the corner, as far from the bed as I can get, and settle in to keep watch a little longer.
She wakes an hour later. I see the exact moment consciousness returns—her body goes tense, her breathing changes, and her eyes snap open.
I keep my voice soft. "Hey." I lean forward slightly. "How are you feeling?"
Jolie doesn't look at me. She stares at the ceiling, her hands twisting in the blanket. "Embarrassed."
I rest my elbows on my knees. "Don't be."
She finally turns her head, but her eyes stop at my shoulder, refusing to meet mine. "I cried for three days straight." She swallows hard. "I begged you to stay. I said things"
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. "You were in heat." I keep my voice level. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."
Her voice drops to barely a whisper. "Everyone heard me." She grips the blanket tighter. "The whole pack heard me screaming and crying and."
I cut her off before she can spiral further. "And they understand." I hold her gaze when she finally looks up. "Every female goes through this. You're not the first and you won't be the last."
She finally looks at me. Her green eyes are red-rimmed and exhausted, but there's something else there too. Something that makes my chest tight.
I "You stayed." She says. "For three days."
I nod once. "I told you I would."
She stops, her throat working. "No one's ever" Her voice cracks. "My old pack locked females away during heats. Said it was for protection, but really they just didn't want to deal with us."
The rage that surges through me at those words nearly knocks me sideways. I force it down and keep my voice level. "You're not in that pack anymore."
She sits up slowly, wincing with each movement. "I know." Her shoulders slump forward. "But sometimes I forget I'm allowed to be treated like a person."
That sentence breaks something in me. Or maybe it was already broken, and she just made me see it.
I stand up and cross to the bed before I can stop myself. She tenses, but doesn't pull away when I sit on the edge of the mattress.
I reach out slowly, giving her time to refuse, and tilt her chin up until she has to meet my eyes. "Listen to me." My thumb brushes her jaw. "You are not weak. You are not worthless. And you are not a burden."
She opens her mouth. "Ryder"
The words come out rougher than I intend. "I stayed because I wanted to." I tighten my grip on her chin, gentle but firm. "Because the thought of you going through that alone made me want to burn the world down." I search her face. "Not out of obligation. Not out of pity. Because I chose to."
Tears well up in her eyes. "Why?"
The truth rips out of me. "Because you're mine." My voice drops lower, almost a growl. "My mate. My Little Jolie. And I take care of what's mine."
The tears spill over. She doesn't sob or wail—just cries silently while I hold her chin and watch her process the weight of being claimed.
Her voice comes out thick. "I need to shower." She pulls back slightly. "I feel disgusting."
I let her go, my hand dropping away. "I will have Doc bring up some food." I stand and move toward the door. "You need to eat."
She nods and slides off the bed. Her legs shake, and I have to clench my fists to keep from reaching out to steady her.
She makes it to the bathroom as the door closes. The water starts running.
I sit on her bed and try to remember how to breathe normally.
My wolf won't shut up. Mine. Claim. Mate. The instinct is so strong it takes actual effort to ignore it. Every cell in my body wants to walk into that bathroom and finish what her heat started.
But I meant what I said. When I claim her—and I will claim her—it'll be her choice.
The shower runs for a long time. I use the time to strip her bed and replace the sheets with clean ones Doc left outside the door. By the time she emerges, wrapped in my oversized sweatshirt and clean underwear, the room smells less like heat and more like a home.
She hovers in the bathroom doorway, wet hair dripping down her back. "You didn't have to do that."
I gesture to the fresh clothes on the chair. "I wanted to." I lean against the wall, putting distance between us. "These are for you. When you're ready."
She crosses to the bed and sits down carefully, like she's testing whether her body will cooperate. "How long was I out?"
I cross my arms over my chest. "Three and a half days." I watch her reaction carefully. "It's Tuesday afternoon."
She blinks. "The Council meeting"
My voice comes out harder than I mean it to. "Can wait." I push off the wall. "You're recovering."
She lifts her chin. "I'm fine."
I uncross my arms and take a step closer. "You're exhausted." My jaw tightens. "You haven't eaten in three days. You can barely stand. You're not fine."
She looks down at her hands, her fingers twisting together. "I'm always recovering from something."
The defeat in those words guts me. "Not anymore."
Her head snaps up. "What?"
I push off the wall and cross to her, crouching down so we're eye level. "Here, you recover once and stay recovered." I reach out and tuck a wet strand of hair behind her ear, the touch light and careful. "No more daily punishment. No more being everyone's punching bag. You get to heal."
She shakes her head slowly. "That's not how my body works."
I cup her cheek in my palm. "Then we'll figure out how to make it work." My thumb strokes her cheekbone."
She searches my face like she's looking for a lie. She won't find it. Because I mean every word.
She admits quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know how to do this." Her breath hitches. "How to be someone's mate. How to be part of a real pack. How to be anything except broken."
I stand up and hold out my hand. "Good thing I'm patient." I give her a small smile. "Come on. Food first, then rest. We'll figure out the rest later."
She stares at my hand for a long moment. Then, slowly, she takes it.
Her fingers are small in mine. Fragile. But they don't shake.
I help her to her feet and lead her toward the door. As we step into the hallway, I glance down at her. "Fair warning." I squeeze her hand gently. "The pack's been worried. They might want to check on you."
She sounds genuinely shocked. "They were worried?" Her eyes widened. "About me?"