Chapter 103: The First Gentle Thing

Serena:

“Stand up straight.”

My father’s voice echoed through the ballroom even though he wasn’t shouting. I was only six years old, wearing a pale silver dress that scratched against my skin every time I breathed too deeply. My mother sat beside the grand piano near the windows, one hand pressed discreetly against her mouth as another cough shook through her body.

No one acknowledged her existence. Not the guests. Not the servants. Not even my father.

“You are a Michealson,” he said coldly while adjusting the diamond bracelet around my wrist hard enough to hurt. “Weakness looks ugly on women. Especially in public.”

I couldn't say I was only six. My knees hurt already from standing still for so long. If I talked back, I didn't know what else would hurt by the end of this night.

“I’m tired,” I whispered. His fingers tightened painfully.

“And yet you are still standing. Amazing what discipline can accomplish.” He smirked proudly.

Across the room, my mother looked at me. Her smile was small and tired and unbearably gentle. That smile hurt more than his grip ever did because even then, I understood something was wrong with her. Every month, she looked thinner and paler. Like pieces of her were disappearing one by one. I used to be in constant dread that she would leave any day.

And that night she collapsed before the music even ended. I remembered screaming. I remembered my father telling the guests she had always been “fragile.” I remembered being dragged upstairs while I cried for her. I remembered the way she reached for me even while coughing blood into her hand.

And I remembered her eyes fixed on me and life draining out of her slowly. Then darkness swallowed the memory whole. I couldn't see anything; it was nothing but endless darkness.

“Serena…” Her voice called for me. I tried to reach for her, but in the endless sea of darkness, I couldn't see anything.

"Mom, where are you? Mommy, please don't leave." But I couldn't see or feel her. Then I fell into that endless sea of darkness from some height, and I screamed.

“NO!”

I woke up screaming, tears streaming down my face. My entire body jerked violently as panic ripped through me so hard I couldn’t breathe for a second. My chest burned. Sweat soaked the back of my neck despite the cold air near the windows.

Hands caught me immediately. Warm. Strong.

“Hey, hey… you’re alright.”

That voice again.

Low. Rough. Half-asleep and instantly worried. I blinked wildly, still trapped halfway inside the nightmare until familiar pinewood and rain wrapped around me again.

Jax. He was one of Levi Kingston's closest men. Before I even realised what I was doing, I grabbed onto his shirt tightly. My breathing shook embarrassingly hard.

“It’s okay,” he murmured softly. “You’re safe.”

Safe.

The word made me cry again. I buried my face against his chest before I could stop myself and started sobbing hard. His arms closed around me instinctively, holding me carefully like he was afraid I might break apart, like I was the most precious thing in the world. And somehow that made it worse. Because nobody had ever held me like this before. Not wanting something in return, without expecting anything.

Just holding me because I was hurting.

The room was dim except for one small lamp near the bed. Pale early dawn light touched the curtains softly. Rain still tapped quietly outside; the smell of the rain mixed with piewood. I couldn't tell the difference if it were him or my surroundings. My soaked clothes had been changed, my wound was dressed and not bleeding anymore, though my body ached all over, but it was better than when I arrived.

I realised suddenly that I was crying while clinging to him. Actual tears.

This was humiliating. I pulled away fast. Too fast.

The movement made dizziness slam into me instantly, and I nearly fell off the bed before Jax caught me again.

“Easy,” he said sharply.

His hand slid around my waist while the other steadied my shoulder. For one dizzy second, my face ended up inches from his. Too close. Way too close. God. His eyes were unfairly beautiful up close. Dark and intense and completely focused on me like nothing else in the world existed.

And his scent…

Warm pinewood. Rain. Smoke. Earth after storms.

Everything inside me went strangely quiet again. His hand tightened slightly on my waist. I could feel the heat of it through the thin fabric of my borrowed shirt. My breath caught embarrassingly. Something shifted in his expression too. His gaze dropped briefly toward my mouth before snapping back to my eyes almost immediately.

The air in the room suddenly felt too warm. Too small. Too intimate. Jax looked away first. Thankfully. He helped me sit back against the pillows carefully before stepping back like he needed the distance more than I did.

“You shouldn’t move that fast yet,” he said in a low, rough but gentle tone, like speaking was a heavy task for him.

I stared at him for a second, trying to gather my thoughts again. The nightmare still clung to my skin, but somehow his presence dulled the sharp edges of it. That scared me almost as much as the dream itself.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “It was having a nightmare.”

Jax handed me a glass of water immediately as if he’d already prepared for this possibility.

“You don’t need to apologise for anything.”

My fingers brushed his accidentally while taking the glass. Bad idea.

A strange warmth travelled up my arm instantly. He noticed it too. I saw it in the way his jaw tightened. He pulled his hand away as fast as I grabbed the glass. I drank quickly, mostly to avoid looking at him.

Then what he said next was the most unexpected thing.

“You’re my mate. Looking after you is my responsibility.”

I nearly choked on the water.

My head snapped toward him. “My what?”

His expression shifted immediately, like he realised how insane that sounded to a normal person.

“Mate,” he repeated more carefully this time.

“That’s not possible.”

“It is for wolves.”

I stared at him.

“No,” I said flatly. “No. Absolutely not. That sounds medically impossible and psychologically unstable.”

To my horror, one corner of his mouth twitched slightly, that jerk.

"It's not funny, and it might be possible for wolves, but I am not one."

"Well, it's unusual, but it's not impossible. Take Aurora, for example." He said it all so calmly, and my head started spinning. This was too sudden. And my brain was about to give up.

I couldn't form words. This was too absurd. Looking at me, going all quiet, he exclaimed, “You’re taking this better than most people, better than I expected.”

“I’m taking this terribly," I countered.

“You screamed less than Rylan did when he learned that you are my mate.” He said with a hint of amusement in his tone.

Despite myself, I stared at him for another second. Then another. God, he was attractive. That was extremely inconvenient. I shook the thought away instantly. No, I couldn't afford this distraction right now. I was here for a purpose, and I needed to focus on that.

“I need to see Levi.”

The shift in Jax’s expression happened immediately. It was subtle, but I caught it. His shoulders tightened slightly.

“You need rest more than anything.”

“I need to speak with him now.”

“You can barely stand.”

“That’s not your decision.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “Actually, right now it is.”

I blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“You were injured. Poisoned. You almost died, and..." He stopped midsentence, took a deep breath and didn't finish.

“And what? You’re my jailor now?”

“No.”

“Then move.”

I tried standing again. Terrible decision. The room tilted instantly, and before I hit the floor, Jax caught me again with an irritated sound under his breath. His hand spread across my back automatically.

“Careful.”

“I am being careful,” I argued stubbornly.

“You almost concussed yourself on a table.”

“I need to speak with Levi.”

Something sharp flashed across his face, an expression I couldn't catch, and then he said in a very harsh tone.

“What? Still holding onto that arranged marriage idea with Levi Kingston?”

The second the words left his mouth, he looked like he wanted to physically swallow them back.

We both froze. The silence afterwards was deafening. I would have slapped him if I had the strength. Slowly, I stepped back out of his hold. For some reason, the words coming from him hurt me more than anything.

“Please leave.”

“Serena...”

“Leave.”

Guilt hit his face instantly.

“That came out wrong.”

“It came out exactly how you meant it.”

“No,” he said immediately. “No, it didn’t.”

He took half a step towards me, his hand coming up to grab mine. I crossed my arms, and I immediately stepped back. He pulled his hand back and dragged it through his dark hair roughly.

“My wolf reacted. The bond does that. I’m still learning…” He exhaled sharply. “I don’t know what came over me.”

I looked away because somehow seeing genuine regret on his face hurt worse than anger would have.

“You will never be a prisoner here,” he said, quieter now. “I just… You lost a lot of blood. And the toxins still haven’t fully cleared from your system.”

The sincerity in his voice made this harder. I hated that.

Finally, I nodded once. “Fine. I’ll rest.” Relief flickered across his face instantly. “But I need to be alone.”

That hurt him, too. I saw it immediately, even though he tried hiding it. Still, he nodded and moved towards the door.

“I’ll send Aurora.”

I don’t know why, but disappointment twisted strangely in my chest at the thought of him leaving. That made no sense at all. He hesitated near the door like he wanted to say something else. Then finally:

“Seeing you hurt scared me. Just rest well and recover for now. Please."

The quiet honesty in those words hit harder than anything else had. Before I could answer, he left without looking back. The room felt colder immediately. Emptier. I hated that too. This pull, this new feeling of wanting him closer, this was all so strange to me.

I sank back slowly against the pillows, staring at the pale dawn light spilling across the floor.

Mate.

The word still sounded unreal.

Impossible.

And yet…

I closed my eyes briefly, and all I could remember was the feeling of his arms around me on the shore.

Warm.

Steady.

Safe.

Home.

My throat tightened painfully. A lone tear rolled down my cheek, then another. Before I knew it, I was silently crying again. This was bad.

Very, very bad.

Because some reckless, broken part of me already wanted him to come back.