Chapter 119 Healing the Bond
Ryder POV
Jolie falls asleep during the strategy meeting.
One moment she's studying Luna's files on Celeste Whitmore, the next her head drops against my shoulder, breathing deep and even. I catch her laptop before it slides off her lap.
"She's exhausted." Doc keeps his voice low. "The empathy work with Morgan, even unintentional, drains her divine power. She needs rest."
"The meeting's over." I stand carefully, lifting Jolie in my arms. She doesn't even stir. "We'll pick this up tomorrow."
Luna closes her tablet. "Get her to bed, we have time before the wedding."
I carried Jolie to our room, her light dimmed to barely a glow. She's so light in my arms, so delicate, and yet I've watched her bring down Council Elders and break professional manipulators. The contrast never stops surprising me.
I settle her on the bed, pulling off her boots and covering her with blankets. She curls into the pillows, still deeply asleep.
My wolf stirs restlessly. We almost lost her to the seeds Morgan planted so expertly.
I thought I could protect her by handling Morgan myself. Instead, I made her vulnerable by keeping secrets. The irony burns.
"Ryder?" Jolie's voice is soft, still half-asleep. "You okay?"
"I'm fine." I sit on the edge of the bed. "Go back to sleep."
"Liar." She reaches for my hand. "I can feel you through the bond. You're beating yourself up about something."
Of course she can. Our mate bond runs deep now, strengthened by everything we've survived.
"I keep thinking about Morgan." I admit. "About how I tried to protect you and ended up making things worse."
"You didn't make things worse." She sits up, rubbing her eyes. "Morgan made things worse, you just made a mistake."
"A mistake that hurt you."
"Yeah." She doesn't sugarcoat it. "It did hurt. Finding out you kept that secret, seeing you with her in your office—that hurt a lot."
The honesty stings, but I need to hear it.
"But you know what hurt more?" She continues. "Doubting you. Letting Morgan's manipulation make me question everything we are. That's what really damaged me, Ryder. Not your mistake—my willingness to believe her lies over our bond."
"She was a professional." I pull her closer. "She knew exactly how to exploit your vulnerabilities."
"And yours." She touches my face gently. "She knew you'd try to protect me. Knew you'd keep secrets thinking it was for the best. She weaponized the very thing that makes you a good mate—your need to shield me from harm."
I never thought about it that way. That Morgan didn't just exploit Jolie's trauma—she exploited mine too. My fear of losing another mate, my desperate need to control threats before they materialize.
"I'm sorry." I say. "For keeping secrets. For thinking I knew what was best without talking to you first, for making you feel like I don't see you as an equal partner."
"I know you are." Her light flickers warmly. "And I'm sorry too. For doubting you. For using my divine gift to verify you weren't lying instead of just trusting our bond, for letting my past make me vulnerable to manipulation."
"We both made mistakes."
"We both have trauma." She corrects gently. "You lost Aria. I lost my entire childhood to abuse. Morgan found exactly where we were weakest and attacked there."
"And we survived." I press my forehead to hers. "We're still here, still together, still strong."
"Stronger." She pulls back to meet my eyes. "Because now we know what real manipulation looks like. We've been tested by a professional and came out united, that means something."
"It means I trust you more than I fear losing you." The truth settles in my chest. "I thought keeping the Morgan secret was protecting you. But really, I was protecting myself from having to face my own fear."
"Fear of what?"
"That if you knew how toxic my past with her was, you'd see me differently." I force the words out. "That you'd realize I'm not the strong alpha you think I am. That I'm just someone who's been broken and is barely holding it together."
Her laugh startles me. "Ryder. Baby. I know you're broken. I've always known."
"You have?"
"Of course." She cups my face with both hands. "You think I can't see the cracks? The way you check every door and window before bed? The nightmares you pretend you don't have? The fact that you haven't taken your leather jacket off in public since we met because it's armor?"
I stare at her. She's right. About all of it.
"But here's what else I see." Her voice softens. "Someone who took his pain and built something beautiful. Who gathered broken wolves and gave them family. Who lost his first mate and was brave enough to love again. You're not broken despite your trauma, Ryder, you are strong because of it."
Something cracks open in my chest. Permission to be both—broken and strong, scarred and capable, traumatized and still worthy of love.
"How did you get so wise?" I ask roughly.
"Doc gives good advice." She grins. "Plus, I've been practicing seeing myself the same way. It's easier to extend grace to you than to me, so I'm working backwards."
"Working backwards?"
"Yeah." She settles against my chest. "If I can accept that you're both damaged and amazing, maybe I can accept the same thing about myself. That being the weakest wolf for years doesn't mean I'm weak now. That surviving abuse made me strong, not broken."
"You were never weak." I tighten my arms around her. "You survived things that would have destroyed most wolves. That's the opposite of weak."
"See? You can say that about me, but you can't say it about yourself." She pokes my chest. "We both need to work on this. On seeing our trauma as proof of strength, not evidence of damage."
She's right once again.
"So we work on it." I kiss the top of her head. "Together. No more secrets, no more trying to protect each other from uncomfortable truths. Just honesty, even when it's hard."
"Especially when it's hard." She tilts her face up. "Promise me. If something's bothering you, if you're scared or worried or struggling—you tell me. Even if you think it'll hurt me or make me worry. You tell me anyway."
"I promise." I mean it. "And you do the same. No more suffering in silence. No more doubting yourself without talking to me first."
"Deal." She seals it with a kiss.
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment. Then she speaks again, voice quieter.
"I need to tell you something. About the empathy thing with Morgan."
"Okay."
"When we confronted her, I wanted her to hurt." She won't meet my eyes. "I was so angry about what she'd done, what she'd tried to do. And for just a second, I wanted her to feel every moment of pain she'd caused. I wanted divine justice."
"And your power gave it to you." I understand now. "That's why you're upset. You didn't mean to curse her, but part of you wanted to."
"Yeah." She breathes out slowly. "I keep thinking about her face when she came back. The agony, the desperation. I did that to her, Ryder. I made her feel that."
"She made other couples feel worse." I point out. "Destroyed bonds, ruined lives, left children in broken homes. What you gave her was consequence, not cruelty."
"But what if I do it again?" Her voice shakes. "What if I get angry at someone and accidentally flood them with empathy? What if I hurt someone who doesn't deserve it?"
"Then we'll deal with it." I turn her to face me. "But Jolie, listen. Your power responded to genuine rage at genuine evil. Morgan spent years destroying lives without remorse. That's not the same as you getting mad at someone for cutting you off in traffic."
"You don't know that."
"I do." I hold her gaze. "Because I know you. You have one of the kindest hearts I've ever seen. Your power is divine—it responds to justice, not petty anger. Trust that."
"I want to." She leans into me. "But I'm scared of what I'm becoming. First the healing, then the empathy touch, then the empathy proximity. What's next? What if I lose control?"
"Then I'll be right here to help you find it again." I promise. "That's what mates do. We balance each other. Your divine power is growing, and that's scary. But you're not alone in figuring out how to use it."
"Will you stay?" She asks, like there's any chance I'd leave.
"Always." I shift so she can curl against my side. "I'm not going anywhere."
She settles against me, her breathing gradually evening out. But I can feel her mind still racing through our bond.
"Ryder?" Her voice is small. "Do you ever wish you'd gotten a normal mate? Someone without divine power and trauma and a target on her back?"
"No." I don't even have to think about it. "I got exactly the mate I needed. Someone strong enough to stand beside me, brave enough to face her demons, and stubborn enough to call me on my bullshit."
"I am pretty stubborn." She sounds slightly more cheerful.
"You told a Council Elder to go to hell" I remind her. "Stubborn doesn't begin to cover it."
"That was a good day." She yawns. "Scary, but good."
"Most of our good days are scary." I point out. "That seems to be our pattern."
"Then the wedding should be terrifying." Her voice is getting drowsy. "Because I have a feeling it's going to be very good in the end."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because I'm done being afraid." She mumbles against my chest.
Pride swells in my chest. This is my mate—the girl who ran from her abusive pack now planning to walk back into hostile territory with her head held high.
"That's my Luna." I whisper.