32
32
Jake’s POV
“Come here, to my room,” I say at last, stroking her hair behind her ear. “My first aid is prepared; you’re more than welcome to mend me.”
She stops for a second, and her canines bite her lower lip while she fixates on my scratch. Moonlight envelops her in its luminescence, her features lending the appearance of being borne from a blissful paradise.
“Fine,” she says softly, finally meeting my gaze. “But you’re letting me patch you up, no arguments.”
I chuckle lightly, pretending to suppress a flinching touch as I push myself up. Her arm slips around me immediately, offering support. It’s such a small gesture, yet it ignites something inside me—a warmth that has nothing to do with the pain and everything to do with her.
The trip to my apartment is a hush, punctuated only by the sound of our walking and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. My body is weighty, but she, at my side, keeps me from falling. I feel her wolf beneath the skin, agitated and safeguarding.
Reaching my room, she pushes the door open and directs me toward the edge of the bed.
“Sit,” she commands, her voice firm yet kind.
I cede, observing as she prowls through the space in a most unrestrained manner. She easily locates the first aid kit and turns to look at me with a serious expression on her face.
“Take off your shirt,” she says, her cheeks flushing momentarily.
I smirk, unable to resist teasing her. “Haven’t you seen enough of me tonight?”
Her pupils constrict, and I can see the faint little smile that starts to curve the edges of her lips. “Jake,” she says warningly, “you’re bleeding. Stop stalling.”
If I smile, I do as she said, wincing when I stretch the fabric over my head. Her quick, piercing intake of breath causes me to look at her.
“What is it?” I ask, frowning.
She shakes her head, stepping closer. “You… you’re hurt worse than I thought,” she says, her voice trembling slightly.
I look down at what appears to be a very nasty wound under the strong light in the room. Blood still leaks from the wound, but I realize that it is something I can control.
“It ain't that bad as it seems,” I say reassuringly, but the expression in her eyes says I am full of lies.
She's kneeling before me, pulling some gauze and antiseptic from their kit. Her hands are steady as she does it, but I sense the tension in her shoulders.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say softly, watching her.
She pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Yes, I do,” she replies firmly. “I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t.”
There is a connection that works its way between us as she tends to my scratch; her hold is makeshift yet firm. I observe her carefully and take note of the way her eyebrows bunch up in thought and how her lips close into a thin line. She's gorgeous—it’s got to hurt her though—and I just can't help but wonder how I've been privileged to have her with me.
“What happened in the street outside?” Morticia's quiet voice cuts across the room's silence. She pauses, biting her lip before looking away again.
I force myself on, my heart racing as I replay the view of her among the stars—every touch, every sound, every moment between us. “Yeah,” I say, my voice steady even though my chest feels constricted. “That was… intense.”
She wrings its hem as she stands before me; it’s stunning that she’s wearing my shirt. I just… I don't want it to be assumed that I meant it casually.
“Morticia,” I interrupt, my tone soft but firm. Her head jerks up, her eyes locking with mine. “It wasn’t just a fling for me.”
I inhale; my wolf jumps around inside of me. This moment demands honesty, and I’m not about to hold back. “I love you.”
Her response is instantaneous; her pupils constricting until all expressiveness fades and her breath hitches into gasps. For a breath, doubt flickers across her expression before giving way to a less difficult—indeed positive—emotion. “You… love me?”
Her voice is little louder than a sigh as I nod; my will to resist getting stronger and stronger. “Yeah, I do.” I creep closer; my eyes never leave hers. “I know this is all new and probably confusing for both of us, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
Morticia’s lips part slightly; her expression unreadable. My chest tightens with fear that she might not feel the same. However, her brows crease and suspicion washes over her perfect features.
“What happens now?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly. “You’re not going to ignore what we’ve done—or how I feel—once we leave this room, are you?”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut—the idea that she thought I’d walk away after everything we shared…
“No,” I say firmly, shaking my head. “No! Morticia, I promise you—I’m not going anywhere.”
I reach for her hands, clasping them between mine. Her hands are cold and shivering; I hold them tighter to calm her. “We’ll figure this out together. Whatever it takes, we’ll find a way.”
She takes a deep breath but I can still detect the trail of indecision in the pupils of her eyes.
“What if I’m not enough?” she whispers; vulnerability evident in her voice gutting me.
I stare at her momentarily stunned by the question. “Enough?” I repeat incredulously. “Morticia, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re more than enough.”
Her lips part and a tear falls down; instinctively I lift one hand and wipe it away with the tip of my thumb. “You make me feel alive, Morticia—like I can finally breathe again. Don’t ever doubt what you mean to me.”
“What if it's not the same?” she says; emotion evident in her voice. “What if… this is just temporary? Driven by passion or adrenaline?”
Her words strike a chord but I don’t flinch; instead I hold her hands more tightly while applying calming motions around her knuckles in hypnotical circles with my thumbs. “They might well evolve,” I say clearly, “but that does not mean we must do so in isolation.”
Her eyes meet mine seeking confirmation; I assuage her fears: “I want you, Morticia—by my side through whatever comes next. Nothing and no one is going to change that.”
A soft sob escapes her lips as she crumbles into me burying her face in my chest; tears run onto my skin but it doesn't matter—I squeeze her tight as if keeping her safe from every question and concern.
“I’m yours, Morticia,” I whisper against her hair. “If you’ll have me.”
She retracts just far enough to look into my eyes; hers focused on mine. “I’ll always have you,” she says steadily.
I feel real sincerity in her voice right through me; instinctively knowing that now is the time to speak up—like a clock tower shakes and a bell sounds—I must "push the button" or else it's all useless: “Morticia,” I reply firmly, “is it possible to annul the engagement? We’re mates—this us—it’s meant to be.”
She blinks startled by my words but then a smile spreads across her face—a beautiful radiant smile that makes my heart swell.
“Yes,” she says without hesitation. “Yes! I'll break it—I don’t want to be with anyone else; Jake—I want you.”
Relief washes over me as I draw her into my lap tightly embracing her—it’s unbelievable what this means to me.”
The night progresses as we chat about anything and nothing—I explain to her about the rogue attack about Jerome's abduction and about the disturbed restless state within me ever since that day we met.
She is all ears flicking patterns with her fingers against my chest as she leans into me.
With our dialogue winding down she turns toward me with a thin smile on her lips: “You’re not as scary as you pretend to be—you know?” she teases.
I laugh and push some hair off of her face: “Don’t tell anyone—I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
She makes a soft laugh which fills up the room with pleasant warmth.
Eventually exhaustion begins creeping in—I can see it in how drooping are her eyes—in how slowly she moves now.
“Stay with me tonight,” I say—the words slipping out before I can stop them.
She looks at me surprised: “Are you sure?”
I nod pulling her closer: “I don’t want to let you go.”
She smiles resting against my chest: “Then I won’t go.”
Lying there in my arms while she falls asleep against me—I can't help but sense an inexplicable peace I've never felt before.