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I bet he didn’t even give me a true mating bite. It’s probably some shifter version of a hickey — his way of telling everyone at the wedding that he fucked the alpha’s little sister.

Shifters belong with other shifters. That’s what Raf always told me.

He meant that shifters should date shifters, but I always took it to mean that I’d never really be one of them. I was a human. Weak. Breakable. I’d always be on the outside looking in. But maybe I should have taken his words at face value.

Hot shameful tears spill over, but I hurriedly scrub them away. I’ve spent enough time crying over Jake. I’m not going to waste any more.

But then I hear a low beep, and the door to our room glides open. Jake’s huge hulking frame fills the doorway, two tall coffees wedged in the crook of his arm and a plain white sack in his hand.

He freezes when he sees me standing by the window with tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Lena?” His eyes crinkle in confusion and worry, and I burst into a fit of full-blown sobs.

“What’s wrong?” he growls, his tone low and menacing. He glances around as though trying to identify the source of my distress. Then he dumps the coffees and bag on the dresser and vaults over the bed.

He pulls me into his lap and brushes away my tears, searching my face with concern.

Seeing his reaction makes my chest clench with love and warmth, but that warmth is quickly doused by shame. Was it reallymewho thought that Jake had left, or was my sudden paranoia my brain playing tricks on me?

Mood swings are common after a traumatic brain injury. For months after the accident, I’d hadcrazyups and downs. I’d be fine one moment and crying the next. Sometimes, I’d explode with rage over a tiny slight or shut myself in my room for days.

I thought I’d gotten a handle on that, but maybe I’m having a relapse.

“It’s stupid,” I whisper, mopping under my nose and wishing Jake had come bursting in just a few minutes sooner. “I-I thought you left.”

“Ididleave,” he says. “I was starving, and you were asleep, so —” He gestures at the bag of food, which smells like bacon and chorizo. “They weren’t serving breakfast downstairs until nine, so I jetted out for some burritos.”

My stomach clenches. Jake didn’t abandon me. He ran out to get me a breakfast burrito.

A strangled laugh bubbles out of me, and I shake my head at my own stupidity. “I’m sorry,” I gurgle.

“What areyousorry for?”

“I’m sorry for d-doubting you and . . . acting crazy.”

Jake’s eyebrows knit together, and he traces a thumb down my jaw. “You aren’t acting crazy.”

“Yes, I am,” I say, staring down at my fingers, which are messing with a thread that’s come loose from the bedsheet. “I thought you’d left me. I mean,reallyleft me.”

“Lena.” Jake’s voice isn’t annoyed or chiding. It’s softand pained. His rough hand comes up to cup my cheek, those blue eyes boring into mine. “I would never leave you.Never. Do you understand?” He breaks into a broad grin that makes my chest ache. “There’s no getting rid of me now. You’re my mate.”

I smile back at him, but my heart’s not in it. He says thatnow, but it’s only been a few hours. What if thiswasme having a setback, rather than a run-of-the-mill overreaction?

“Lena . . .” Jake’s voice is a low growl. He’s been watching me intently this entire time, as if everything I’m thinking and feeling is written across my face.

“What if . . .” I keep pulling on the loose thread, wondering if the whole sheet will unravel if I tug in just the right spot. “What if I don’t ever get better?”

It’s such an effort to get the question out that my voice is barely a whisper.

“What if my injury . . .” I trail off. I’ve made it this far by thinking positively and refusing to accept the limitations doctors told me I might have. So it’s hard for me to come out and say what I need to tell him. “I just need you to know that I might not ever be one-hundred percent.”

“Lena,” says Jake, his brows pulling together as he strokes my face. “There’s nothing to fix.”

“I had a traumatic brain injury,” I mumble. “There was definitely some fixing to be done.”

“I know. I was there.”

Jake’s words take me by surprise, and I finally look him in the eye. “What do you meanyou were there?”