Chapter 303 Book 2 ~ Chapter 68

Chapter 303 Book 2 ~ Chapter 68
Jake’s POV

Today was not the happy, carefree day I had hoped for. I thought mating with Poppy would stabilise her the way it had with Paige, but we are very quickly learning that the sisters may be similar, but they are not the same.

Seeing the devastation on her face when she realised there was still something very wrong when she got too close to Paige was bad enough, but feeling it through the bond was heart-wrenching. My heart aches for them both.

For so long they have been each other’s constant, and now there is this unknown clash forcing them apart. A huge part of me feels responsible. Because if she had never met me and Leo, this wouldn’t be happening, and she would still be able to spend time with her family without weird shit happening. The worst part is I have no idea how to fix this now. I’m all out of ideas, and so is Ronnie.

I’ve spent most of the day watching her struggle, watching her desperately try to get answers from the voice in her head. She’s done meditation with Ronnie in the garden, and she’s spent hours sitting on the couch staring at the ashes in the fireplace with a frown on her face that I wish I could relieve. But the best I’ve been able to do is make her cups of tea, which she left untouched.

By evening, she finally snapped out of it enough to eat some buttery toast. Then came the tears she’d been fighting back all day.

“What if it’s always like this now… what if I can never be near them again?” She had said softly as tears rolled down her face.

“Maybe it just needs more time. We’ll figure it out,” I’d told her, but we both knew I was just saying the words to comfort her.

Because telling her I have no solution is not what she wants to hear, and I’m not ready to give up, not yet. If there’s a way to fix this, I’ll find it, and I won’t ever stop until I have the answer, or I’m dead.

I’d suggested we pick up Jaxon tomorrow and take him for ice cream, but she’d declined. Muttering something about her being too dangerous before rushing upstairs to shower. Letting her go was torturous, but it was clear she needed some time to herself.

When I finally felt her relax, I knew she must have fallen asleep. I tried to stay away; I really did. I cleaned the already sparkling kitchen, rearranged her bookshelf, took a shower, and now I’m lying on my bed, trying not to think about her just on the other side of the wall, so close, but still too far.

A cold tendril of something close to fear slithers through the bond, pushing me to my breaking point. Screw giving her space; if something is scaring her, then I’m going to deal with it.

I throw the covers back and pad across the wooden floor to her room. The door is not fully closed, so I gently push it open. The room is dark, with only the moonlight shining through the still-open curtains giving her face a pale glow. Goddess, she’s so beautiful. I don’t think there will ever be a time that I look at her, and she won’t take my breath away.

She’s still asleep, but there’s a small crease between her brows and her hands are clutching the blanket tightly. It’s always difficult to decide what to do when someone is having a nightmare. I see it often with patients at the clinic, and I’m always torn about whether I should wake them or let them process whatever their mind is conjuring up. Because sometimes I wonder if it’s an important process for healing from trauma, like our unconscious brain forces us to face whatever it is we’ve been ignoring.

Poppy is different though; she’s my mate, the single most important person in my life. I may not be able to help her with her sister, but I can help her with this. I move slowly and carefully, so as not to startle her as I slide into the bed beside her. The second I wrap my arm around her, she lets out a contented little hum.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper softly.

She makes another noise that sounds remarkably close to my name as she turns to face me. She doesn’t wake up, not fully, but she knows I’m here. Her breathing evens out again, and I feel nothing but peace through the bond from her.

I’m not sure how long I lay there, just holding her, but I’d happily do it for the rest of my life. I go over everything again. The blood tests, the powers, the ancient texts. Paige is sunlight. Poppy is darkness. No, that isn’t right. Darkness sounds empty, and there’s nothing empty about Poppy.

Paige’s power is warm, where Poppy’s is cold. Like the sun and the moon. Paige is the dawn. Bright and impossible to ignore. Poppy is… My gaze drops to where she’s curled against my chest. She’s not night, or darkness; she’s dusk. That peaceful moment when the world softens. The moment everything grows still enough to hear yourself think.

Dawn and dusk. Opposites, but part of the same sky. The realisation hits with the same sense of satisfaction I get when a diagnosis finally makes sense. Everything finally aligns: the symptoms, the evidence, the instinct that kept telling me I was looking at it wrong. I almost laugh at myself for not seeing it sooner.

“Ronnie,” I reach out, unable to wait on this.

“What’s wrong?” he responds immediately.

“See what you can find in any reference to the dusk.”

Ronnie is quiet for a beat before he finally answers.

“Of course, that would make sense. Dawn starts the cycle; dusk completes it. There’s nothing immediately coming to mind for dusk, but if I can work out the translation of the word, I may find something.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Thanks, keep me updated if you find anything.”

The temptation to reach out to Leo with this is strong, but he’s already stressed and until Ronnie finds something useful, there’s no urgency to tell him. Plus, I should discuss it with Poppy first; maybe the voice will react and give us a clue.

I try to sleep, but my mind is still running at a mile a minute with this new theory and how it might help stabilise Poppy. Paige is stable unless she is around Poppy, as if they are two opposing forces, which, if I’m right, they are. The dawn and the dusk exist together, but never in the same place at the same time. There must be a way around this, something that’s missing.

“Is she sleeping?” Leo’s voice jolts me from my thoughts.

I look down at Poppy again; she’s still peaceful.

“Yes, when are you home?”

“Now,” he pauses, and I half expect to hear the door open. “But I’m going to be a while. We brought some guests back that I need to escort to their accommodation.”

“Guests?”

“Long story, but they’re the first of a large group arriving. Whatever you do, do not let Poppy leave the cabin. We are going to have to keep her hidden until they leave.”

My wolf instantly goes on high alert in a way he never has before. Strangers near his mate is not something he is comfortable with at all. My arms tighten slightly around Poppy.

“Who are they? And how long will they be here? She’s not going to like this, you know?”

“I know, but Callen and Ryder were basically backed into a corner. So far, we have two from Mountain Ridge, with more from other packs arriving tomorrow. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

The mind link goes quiet, and my excitement from earlier fades. There was something about Leo’s tone that I didn’t like, and a slow creeping dread crawls into my gut. Not just because we have an extra thing to worry about to keep Poppy safe, but because, somewhere deep inside my mind, I know everything is about to change.