Chapter 94
Ellie's POV
Megan nodded miserably. "Robert Lancaster. Real estate mogul. On the board of like six different foundations." She let out a hollow laugh. "And he's dating my mother. Everyone thinks she's with him for money."
The bitterness in her voice made my chest ache.
"But she's not," I said quietly. It wasn't a question.
"No." The word came out fierce and broken. "My mom worked three jobs after Dad left. She could have remarried for money years ago if that's what she wanted. Robert didn't show up until two years ago, and even then she held him off for months because she worried about..." Her voice cracked. "About what I'd think. About judgment. About this exact situation."
Jackson's voice was gentle. "So they're actually in love."
"I guess." Megan's shoulders hunched. "I don't know. I can't see past the optics. Every time I look at them together, all I can think about is what other people are thinking. The whispers. The assumptions. Campus Whispers made me feel like everyone's laughing at me."
I sat beside her, close but not crowding. "Megan, do you think your mom would have fallen for Robert if he wasn't rich?"
She was quiet for a long moment. "Honestly? Probably yes. Mom likes people who care about causes. Robert funds literacy programs, housing initiatives, scholarships for first-generation students." Her laugh was still hollow. "They met at a fundraiser for domestic violence survivors. Mom's been through that—Dad was..." She stopped herself. "Robert's the first person I've seen her actually open up to."
"Then maybe," I suggested carefully, "your mom just fell in love with someone who happens to be older. And happens to be wealthy. But those are just facts about him, not the reason she loves him."
Megan bit her lip, not responding.
Jackson leaned forward slightly. "The people gossiping don't know your mother's story. Their opinions are based on assumptions, not truth. Does what they think really matter more than your mom's happiness?"
"I don't know how to stop caring what they think," Megan admitted, her voice small. "Everyone's already decided who my mom is, who I am. How do I just... ignore that?"
"One day at a time," I said. "One choice at a time. Like Ryan choosing Lily over London. Like..." I hesitated, then pushed forward. "Like me choosing to believe my own worth instead of letting Lucas define it for me."
That got a watery smile from Megan. "When did you get so wise?"
"I'm not wise. I'm just tired of letting other people's opinions control my life." I squeezed her hand. "Your mom deserves to be happy. And you deserve not to carry everyone else's judgment."
We sat in silence for a moment, the evening settling around us. Finally, Megan stood, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
"I should call my mom. Tell her I'm sorry for how I reacted."
"You want company?" I offered.
She shook her head. "No. This is something I need to do alone. But... thank you. Both of you. For caring enough to interfere."
After she left, Jackson and I sat on the bench, watching students hurry past in the gathering dusk.
"You were good with her," Jackson observed.
"I just tried to imagine what I'd want to hear." I tucked my hands into my jacket pockets. "Turns out personal experience with relationship drama is useful for something."
"More than useful." He shifted slightly closer, not quite touching but near enough that I could feel his warmth. "You helped her see past her fear. That takes real empathy."
We started walking again, the path winding toward the residential buildings.
A question had been burning in my mind since Halloween, growing more insistent with each passing day. I'd pushed it down, told myself it was too soon, too presumptuous. But walking beside Jackson now, with the comfortable silence stretching between us, the words clawed their way up my throat.
"Jackson?" My voice came out smaller than I intended.
"Yeah?"
I took a breath. "You can recognize what I am. What we are. Right?"
He slowed slightly, his expression growing careful. "Yes. I can."
The confirmation should have been enough. Should have satisfied my curiosity. But there was another question lurking beneath that one—bigger, more terrifying, infinitely harder to ask.
Are we mates?
The words hovered on my tongue. Four simple words. Four words that could change everything—or shatter the fragile thing growing between us.
What if I'm wrong? The thought made my stomach clench. What if I'm reading too much into the way he looks at me, the way my wolf responds to him, the way everything feels easier when he's near?
I'd learned my lesson with Lucas. Assuming connection. Mistaking familiarity for destiny. Letting my wolf's instincts override my human judgment.
If only we were marked, I thought desperately. Then I'd know. Then he'd know what I was thinking without me having to say it out loud, without risking this awful vulnerability—
I stopped myself, heat flooding my face.
Marked? Jesus, Ellie. You're thinking about marking?
We'd agreed to be friends—good friends—just days ago. And here I was, my traitorous wolf brain jumping straight to permanent bonds and mate marks and the kind of intimacy that meant forever.
Too much. Too fast. Too desperate.
My heart was pounding now, loud enough that I was certain Jackson could hear it with his enhanced senses. My palms felt sweaty despite the chill.
Ask him, Thalia urged. He'll understand. He'll know what you mean.
But what if he didn't feel it? What if I was just another wolf to him—a friend, a dance partner, someone he cared about but didn't want in that way?
The silence had stretched too long. Jackson was watching me now, his expression shifting from neutral to concerned.
"Ellie? You okay?"
"Yeah." I forced a smile, shoving the question back down where it belonged. "Just... thinking about the full moon coming up. Making sure I'm prepared."
It wasn't entirely a lie. The moon was affecting me—making me more emotional, more reactive, more attuned to the wolf pacing restlessly beneath my skin. The wolf who'd decided Jackson was hers and couldn't understand why her human half was being so stupidly cautious.
Jackson's expression softened. "You'll be fine. You always are." He paused, then added quietly, "And I'll be around if you need anything."
See? Thalia murmured. He cares. He watches over us. That means something.
Maybe it did. Maybe it didn't. Maybe I was reading too much into kindness and calling it fate.
"Thanks," I managed, my voice steadier now. "That means a lot."
We continued toward my dorm in comfortable silence, but my mind was still racing, still caught on that unasked question and all the terrifying possibilities it contained.
"Hey," Jackson said as we reached my dorm entrance. "Before you go."
I turned to face him. "Yeah?"
He reached out, his fingers gentle as they caught a strand of my hair that the wind had blown across my face. The touch was brief—just long enough to tuck the hair behind my ear—but it made my breath catch.
"Thanks for tonight," he said softly. "For being you. For caring about people."
My heart was doing that stupid racing thing again. "You're the one who noticed Ryan and Lily. And helped with Megan."
"Team effort." His smile was warm, genuine. "Get some rest. And goodnight, Ellie."
"Goodnight, Jackson."
I watched him walk away, his figure gradually disappearing into the evening shadows. Only when he'd completely vanished did I turn and head inside.