\[Serenity’s POV\]
I watch in horror as Maverick buries his head in his hands. They shake as he does so, as does his body, and before I know what I’m doing, I rush forward and grab his wrists.
“Maverick!” I call as he repeats the same thing again and again. “What’s wrong? Talk to me!”
It’s like he is somewhere else and not even here with me as he continues to ignore me and the world around him.
“What did you do?” I demand, turning my gaze toward Gretchen. “What did you do to him?”
“I didn’t do anything.” She responds. “Whatever inner battle he is having has to do with him and only him.”
Fighting the urge to punch her, I turn my attention back to Maverick and pull at his wrists as hard as I can until finally, he lifts his gaze toward mine.
“Maverick,” I whisper, taking in his sweat-covered skin and pale face. “You’re here.”
“Serenity,” he murmurs, like he isn’t quite sure if I’m real. “You’re… Let go!”
Eyes widening, I watch Maverick yank his wrists from my grasp.
“Don’t,” he says, giving me a look that I almost don’t recognize. “Don’t…”
He doesn’t finish his words before he is getting up and moving, making his way out of the room while the rest of us just watch.
“Well?” Uncle Jose asks, drawing my attention. “Aren’t you going to chase after your man?”
Remaining silent, I stare at my hands in confusion as stinging sensation stabs at my heart. For as long as I’ve known Maverick, he has never once recoiled from my touch. This was the first time, and I didn’t know exactly how to take it.
“He’s going to get away if you don’t move.” Uncle Jose continues, touching my shoulder. “I’m sure what he needs right now is the one person who can help calm his soul.”
“Y-yeah,” I whisper, giving Uncle Jose a look before turning and heading in the direction that Maverick disappeared.
Extending my senses, I search until I find that he is in his room.
Letting out a breath of relief, I begin to move, taking the stairs two at a time, and when I reach my destination, I don’t bother to knock. Instead, I head straight inside, where I find Maverick standing in the bathroom.
“Maverick,” I call as the scent of blood reaches my nose. “What are you…”
I don’t need to finish my words as I spot glass and blood scattered about his feet.
“Maveirkc,” I say slowly, moving forward until I can see the broken mirror in front of him and his raised fist, which is covered in blood. “What are…”
“Why are you here?” He asks, his voice hollow. “Why did you follow me?”
Opening my mouth, I prepare to respond, but stop as I realize that nothing I say will matter in this situation. It was pretty clear that Maverick wasn’t fully here, at least not my Maverick. This man standing in front of me was nothing more than a lost creature.
“You hurt yourself,” I say quietly, deciding that dealing with his injury was most important since he couldn’t heal quickly. “What did the poor mirror do to you anyway?”
Stepping into the bathroom, I begin to dig in the cabinet until I find a first aid kit. Pulling it out, I sit it on the counter and start to dig through it until I find antiseptics and bandages.
“Here,” I announce, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand toward me. To my surprise, he doesn’t fight me, but he doesn’t look my way either. “You really did a number, huh?”
Trying to ignore the pain that I’m feeling for the man that I love, I examine his knuckles, noting the deep gashes that cover them. This alone was making it clear that whatever he saw really troubled him, and all I wanted was to ask him what happened.
“Why are you doing this?”
Maverick’s voice is low as he speaks, and it is devoid of any emotion, which causes my heart to squeeze, but I don’t let on that it bothers me.
“Because you’re hurt.” I respond, though I know that isn’t what he is asking me. “Isn’t it obvious?”
He doesn’t respond as I begin to clean and bandage his wound, he just looks at me as if he doesn’t quite recognize me.
“There,” I announce once I’m finished. “Good as new.”
Smiling, I bring his knuckles to my lips, and when I prepare to kiss them, he pulls his hand away from me.
“Why are you doing this?” He repeats, his eyes flashing in pain. “Why would you care for a monster like me?”
Monster. Was he referring to the rogue thing and how he tried to kill me? Or did this have to do with whatever it was he saw when he had his memories returned? I didn’t know, but I figured if I just stayed by his side a bit longer, he would tell me.
“You’ll have to be more specific.” I say slowly. “Otherwise, I won’t understand. But I can say that I don’t see a monster standing in front of me. I see a man, a man who is hurting, and I just can’t leave that hurting man alone.”
Growing quiet, I wait as he continues to stare at me with so many emotions in those dark eyes of his.
“I am a monster,” he whispers, collapsing on the toilet. “A monster that deserves nothing but death.”
Eyes widening, I feel a wave of fear rush through me over what he has just said.
“You don’t!” I hiss, kneeling in front of him and grabbing his cheeks so he looks at me. “Where is this coming from? What did you see?”
Shit. This was certainly not what I expected from this, and honestly, my uneasiness and panic seemed to be for absolutely nothing now. In the end, I wasn’t the one who was hurt.
“Maverick, talk to me. We’re in this together, remember?” I say, gently rubbing my fingers along his skin. “Your pain is my pain, and mine is yours.”
“I don’t deserve that,” he says, reaching up and attempting to remove my hold.
“No,” I snap, tightening my grip. “I’m not going to let you push me away. You’re going to tell me what it was that you saw, and then we will work through it together, do you understand?”
“I…”
“No,” I repeat. “Tell me. What did you see?”
“I saw,” he says slowly, his face contorting with pain. “My parents… I killed my parents. I’m a monster. A murderer. I don’t deserve yours or anyone else's kindness. I deserve to suffer. Hell, even that is too good for me.”
“Are you sure you killed them?” I ask, trying to ignore the pain I feel for him. “Did you see yourself do that?”
“No,” he responds, shaking his head miserably. “But their blood and... Their blood was on my hands.”
Nodding, I consider what he is saying.
“What happened before that?” I push. “Did something change? Was there something that led to this?”
“I was going crazy,” he admits. “I was turning rogue, and I guess I blacked out and...”
“Then it wasn’t intentional.” I argue. “It wasn’t you who did that. It was the madness that was consuming you.”
“It was still me.” Maverick counters, collapsing against me and clutching me like a child looking for the comfort of their parent. “It was still me. I’m a monster, and I know that it is a lot of me to ask you whether or not you still want me, but I…” stopping, he lets out a shaky breath as warm liquid begins to stain my shirt. “But I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you because I fear if my light disappears, I’ll become that creature again.”
“You won’t,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his head and pulling him closer. “You won’t ever become that creature again, not if I’m here.”
Goddess, this was painful. I hated seeing Maverick like this—so weak, so broken. And I hated that I couldn’t take away this pain and suffering for him, as it was something that he alone would have to eventually forgive himself for in the end.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I push, “Maverick,” I continue, drawing his wet gaze to mine. “Even if you lost control due to your bastard alpha’s tricks and killed your parents, I still love you. The one who killed them wasn’t you; it was the monster that horrible man created. And you aren’t that person anymore.”
“I’m not,” he asks as if he doesn’t believe. “But I…”
“No, buts,” I hiss, shaking my head fiercely. “You aren’t that monster! That wasn’t you. From what I’m seeing now, you loved your parents with every fiber of your being and would never do anything to hurt them. What happened back then was a horrible accident, and I can’t even begin to imagine the pain you’re feeling, but as long as you’re hurting, I’ll be here for you. So please, please, don’t do anything that will end up making me lose you.”
“Serenity,” Maverick whispers, burying his head in my chest again. “I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to let you go.”
“Then don’t,” I sigh, gently rubbing his back as he lets it all out. “Hold on to me as tightly as you can.”