Chapter 33

Chapter 33
Jax's POV

I'm such a goddamn fool.

I thought I'd made peace with it, written him off as good as dead. So why does it still hurt? Why does my chest feel like it's being ripped open?

I lay on the floor, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, feeling like something had clawed straight through my ribs. The brown wolf's shadow wouldn't leave my head—those eyes, that scent, and the way he'd turned and bolted without a second thought.

My father. Gideon.

He came back, but not for me. He came for that damned logbook. He hurt me, took what he wanted, then vanished into the dark again. Just like ten years ago. Just like every other time he left.

I remember the first time he taught me to swim.

I was about seven, standing on the dock watching the older kids splash around in the water. I wanted to learn, but I was scared. The water looked so deep, so black—I was sure if I went in, I'd sink straight to the bottom and never come back up.

Gideon saw right through me. He didn't say a word, just walked over, grabbed my arm, and threw me in.

I didn't even have time to react before the freezing seawater swallowed me whole. I thrashed, trying to grab onto something, anything, but there was nothing. Water rushed into my nose, my mouth, my ears. I couldn't hear anything. I could only feel myself sinking, deeper and deeper.

I thought I was going to die.

Then, just when everything started going dark, a pair of rough, thick arms plunged into the water and hauled me out.

Gideon laughed, loud and easy, slapping my back while I coughed up what felt like half the ocean. "The first mate's son can't go drowning in the sea," he said, his voice carrying a pride I didn't understand back then.

I thought he was teaching me to be strong. I thought he was telling me that even when you're scared, you face it anyway.

But now I get it. He was just getting me used to the feeling of drowning. Because he knew that one day, he'd throw me back in, and this time, he wouldn't pull me out.

That feeling came back tonight.

Lying there on the floor, I felt like I was sinking again. The air pressed down on me like water, crushing my lungs. I opened my mouth to call out, to beg someone to pull me up, but no sound came.

I waited for those thick arms. I waited for Gideon to yank me to the surface like he used to, to tell me this was just another test, that he'd never really left.

But those arms didn't come.

Something else did.

I felt warmth approaching, something soft and gentle. Through my blurred vision, I saw the shimmering surface of the water above me. A slender hand—a woman's hand—reached down into the depths.

I grabbed it and kicked toward the light.

---

My eyes finally cleared, and I could see her.

Celeste was leaning over me, her face tight with worry, her eyes shining with something I'd never seen before. She was beautiful—so beautiful it knocked the breath out of me. Nothing like the painted-up girls down in the slums. Her beauty was real, clean, the kind that made you want to protect it.

Every cell in my body seemed to wake up for her. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst through my chest. My worthless life, this pathetic existence I'd been dragging through the gutters, suddenly felt like it had been leading to this exact moment.

"Mate."

The word tore out of me before I even knew what I was saying.

Celeste froze, her eyes going wide. "What?" she whispered.

"Mate," I said again, more certain this time. My hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist, feeling her pulse flutter against my palm. "You're my Mate."

Her face flushed bright red, confusion and uncertainty flooding her expression.

Yeah. That's right. That's how a normal human would react. She didn't know about wolf bonds, didn't know what the word meant. She was just a human girl, locked away in a lighthouse by the man who raised her, knowing nothing about the world beyond those walls.

Fear hit me then, cold and sharp.

I shouldn't be dragging Celeste into my world. She was Freeport's pillar, the hope her followers clung to, someone who belonged in the light. I was nobody—a two-bit thief from the slums, a kid even his own father didn't want.

I let go of her wrist and forced myself to breathe. "Sorry," I muttered, my voice still shaking. "I wasn't thinking straight."

Celeste shook her head, her fingers drifting to the green ring on her hand. "I don't know what happened either," she said softly. "I just raised my hand, and then there was this blade of wind. And that green light—it filled the whole room."

I looked down at the earring dangling from my ear, the green gemstone catching the moonlight. I touched it, murmuring almost to myself, "It's like they were made for each other. Like they were always supposed to meet."

Celeste's face went red again. She bit her lip, her gaze darting away.

I realized how that sounded and scrambled to change the subject. "It's getting late," I said, pushing myself to my feet. "I need to get you back before Quillan notices you're gone."

She nodded, though hesitation still lingered in her eyes.

I took a deep breath. "We're running out of time. I'll have to shift and carry you back," I said. "Will you… will you be scared of me? In my wolf form?"

Celeste looked at me, and there wasn't a trace of disgust in her expression. "No," she said, her voice quiet but steady. "You're magnificent. I've never seen a wolf so brave."

Heat rushed to my face.

I turned away, letting the shift take over. My bones cracked and reformed, the sound sharp in the silence. My limbs hit the ground, fur sprouting across my skin. In seconds, I was fully wolf.

I lowered my head, kneeling before her in submission.

Celeste reached out, her fingers brushing through my fur with a touch that made something inside me settle. "Let's go," she whispered.

I stood and let her climb onto my back. She was light, almost weightless. I started toward the lighthouse, my paws silent on the ground.

Moonlight spilled over us as the wind ruffled my fur. I could feel her fingers tangled in my coat, could feel her heartbeat and the rhythm of her breathing.

In that moment, I wasn't the kid my father abandoned. I wasn't some street rat scraping by in the slums.

I was her protector. I was her Mate.

Even if she didn't understand what that meant yet. Even if she never would. For now, I could pretend she was mine.

The lighthouse loomed closer. I slowed my pace, not wanting this to end.

Celeste seemed to sense it. She patted my back gently, her voice soft. "Thank you, Jax."

I didn't answer. I just kept walking, letting the moonlight guide us home.