Page 19

Gray drags me behind a cluster of trees like we’re hiding from the law, and I don’t fight it. His hand is firm on my arm, but not rough. Not pushy. Just solid. Like he knows exactly how close I am to crumbling, and he’s determined to stop it before it happens where anyone can see.

“Sit,” he orders after a moment of me leaning against a tree.

I glare at him. “I’m not a damn child.”

“No, you’re not,” he agrees calmly, crouching in front of me. “But you’re shaking like a leaf, and I need you to sit before you fall over.”

I hate that he’s right. I hate that my legs feel like jelly, that my chest is tight and my hands are trembling. But most of all, I hate that he’s looking at me like that—steady and patient, like he’ll stand between me and the whole damn world if it means keeping me upright.

So, I sit.

It’s not graceful. My knees buckle halfway down, and I end up landing with an unceremonious thud against the base of a tree. Gray sits next to me, close but not crowding, with his arms resting on his knees like he’s just here for the scenery.

The pressure in my chest ratchets up another notch, and my nails bite into my palms as I force my breathing to slow. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Good thing I’m not babysitting.”

“Feels like it.”

His lips spasm, almost a smile. “Call it… strategic support.”

“Strategic support,” I repeat flatly.

“Yeah. You keep the world from falling apart, and I keep you from losing your mind while you do it. Teamwork.”

His voice is calm and steady, and it settles something jagged in me. I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on the sound of it instead of the storm raging inside me. “You don’t have to do this,” I say. “I’m fine.”

“Stop lying to me.” There’s no bite to it, no frustration. Just quiet honesty. “You’re not fine, and that’s okay. You’ve been through hell, Jas. No one’s expecting you to just walk away from it unscathed.”

“I don’t want them to see,” I admit, the words cracking as they escape. “Not them. Not him.”

“Then don’t let them,” he replies. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, Jaslyn. You don’t have to prove that to anyone. Least of all Malcolm.”

The mention of his name sends a fresh wave of heat and shame crawling up my throat. My breath hitches, and I press my fists harder into my thighs, trying to ground myself.

“Hey.” Gray’s voice is sharp, cutting through the spiral before it can take me under. His hand covers mine. “Don’t go there. Stay with me.”

“I’m trying,” I rasp.

“I know. I’m here.”

His words are an anchor, and I cling to them with everything I have. My chest is tight, my throat burning, and the world feels too close, too loud. I can feel it building—the panic, the helplessness, the fear. It’s a familiar enemy, one I’ve fought more times than I can count. But it still hits like a freight train every damn time.

“I hate this,” I whisper. “I hate feeling like this.”

“I know,” Gray says again. His thumb brushes over my knuckles in a slow, soothing rhythm, and the warmth of his touch pulls me back inch by inch. “But you’re not alone. You’re never alone.”

Something inside me splinters at that, at the quiet certainty in his voice. He doesn’t say it like a promise or a reassurance. He says it like a fact. Like it’s as unshakable as the ground beneath us.

I take a shaky breath, then another, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of his touch.

“You’re okay,” Gray says. “Breathe, Jas. Just breathe.”

I do. It’s not easy. Every inhale feels like dragging air through broken glass, but I do it, anyway. And slowly, the tightness in my chest starts to ease. The trembling in my hands subsides. The storm quiets, just a little.

Gray doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t push. He just stays there, and that’s enough. For now, it’s enough.

By the time I can finally breathe again without feeling like my chest is in a vice, Gray leans back, giving me enough space to reclaim a shred of dignity but not enough to make me feel exposed. His hand lingers on mine for a moment longer before he pulls it away.

“You good?” he asks.

I nod, brushing a stray curl out of my face. “Better. Thanks to you.”

His lips curve into a soft, almost shy smile that makes my stomach flip. “What can I say? I’m a great strategic support.”

That earns a small laugh from me, weak but real, and he seems to take that as a win. He stands and offers me a hand, which I take, letting him pull me to my feet. For a moment, I’m not sure I can face the group after all of this, but Gray’s steady gaze anchors me.

“Ready to go back?” he asks.

I take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

When we return to the group, they’re clustered near a hastily constructed campfire. The witches are chatting in low voices while the wolves keep watch on the perimeter. Theo gives me a quick glance but says nothing, keeping his expression carefully neutral. It’s Jade who speaks first, and her eyes move between Gray and me like she’s piecing together a puzzle.

“Everything okay?” she asks, and there’s a note of genuine concern beneath the coolness.

“Fine,” I reply quickly, stepping past her to join the others. “What’s the plan?”

Jade exchanges a look with Isadora before answering. “We need direction. Tracking the portals blindly is only going to waste time, and we don’t have the luxury of guessing.”

“I can scry for a vision,” Jade adds. “It’ll give us a glimpse of what’s ahead, maybe even lead us to the next portal.”

Isadora nods, already pulling a small pouch of herbs from her satchel. “I’ll reinforce her magic. It’ll make the vision clearer and help her focus.”

“That’s risky,” Gray interjects. “You’ll be vulnerable while you’re working. If anything comes at us—”

“We’ll handle it,” I cut in, meeting his gaze with a confidence I don’t entirely feel. “I’ll keep watch.”

Gray doesn’t look thrilled about the idea, but he nods after a moment. “Fine. But I’m watching over you while you’re watching over them.”

The corner of my mouth quirks up. “Protecting me from the big, bad witch hunters, Alpha?”

“More like protecting the witch hunters from you,” he shoots back.

Jade rolls her eyes. “If you two are done flirting, we have work to do.”

“Don’t be jealous, Jade,” I say sweetly. “Just because your husband had to keep watch doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t enjoy ourselves.”

That earns a chuckle from Isadora, and Jade shoots me a mock glare before turning back to her supplies. As they set up for the scrying ritual, Gray and I move to the edge of the camp, taking up a position where we can see both the witches and the surrounding forest.

The quiet stretches between us, comfortable but charged. Gray leans against a tree with his arms crossed while I sit on a fallen log, keeping my eyes on the witches as they begin their work. The air comes alive with magic as Jade and Isadora chant softly, their voices blending into a rhythmic cadence that’s both soothing and unnerving.

“Do you ever get used to it?” Gray asks after a while.

“To what?” I glance at him, noting the way the firelight dances across his features.

“The magic. The way it feels. Like the air’s buzzing with electricity.”

I tilt my head, considering. “You don’t feel it the same way I do. For me, it’s… personal. Like a part of me waking up and stretching its limbs.”

“It’s impressive. Watching you control it, use it. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have that kind of power.”

“Exhausting,” I admit with a wry smile. “It’s not all fireworks and glowing hands, you know. Half the time, it feels like wrangling a wild animal. One wrong move, and it all goes to hell.”

“Sounds like being an alpha,” he notes. His tone is teasing, but there’s an edge of truth in there.

“Guess we’re not so different after all.”

“Guess not.”

We fall silent again, but this time, it’s a companionable quiet. I catch him watching me out of the corner of my eye, and when I turn to meet his gaze, he doesn’t look away.

“What?” I ask, raising a brow.

“Just thinking,” he says, his voice lower now. “About everything you said to Malcolm.”

My stomach twists at the mention of his name, but Gray’s steady gaze keeps me grounded. “What about it?”

“You were incredible. The way you stood up to him, the way you put him in his place. I’ve never seen anyone make the object of their fear back down like that.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I glance away, feeling strangely self-conscious. “I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t stand up to him, he would’ve taken me. Or worse, taken someone else.”

“Doesn’t make it any less impressive.” His voice is soft now, almost reverent. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

I swallow hard as his words settle deep in my chest. “Thanks. For being there. For having my back.”

“Always,” he replies without hesitation, and the sincerity in his voice makes something in me crack.

For a moment, I let myself just look at him—the sharp angles of his face, the strength in his posture, the way his blue eyes hold mine like they can see straight through me. He’s infuriating and impossible, but he’s also… everything. Solid and steady and unshakable in a way I never thought I’d need.

“You’re staring,” he comments with a smug grin.

“So are you,” I counter, leaning back on my hands. “What’s your excuse?”

“Admiring the view.”

The comment is so unexpected that I laugh, and the sound is startlingly loud in the quiet night. “Smooth, Alpha. Real smooth.”

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

“Flattering.”

“Only for you.”

There’s a beat of silence, and the air between us shifts, growing heavier. His gaze drops to my lips, and my heart stutters in my chest.

“Gray—”

“Jaslyn,” he interrupts, “I know we’ve got a lot ahead of us. And I know this isn’t exactly the time or place. But I need you to know… I’m here. For all of it. For you.”

My throat tightens, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond. But then I reach out, resting my hand on his arm, and the tension in his shoulders eases.

“I know,” I say quietly. “And I’m here, too.”

The moment stretches, and for once, I let myself lean into it, let myself feel the weight of his presence and the quiet promise in his words. Whatever comes next, I know we’ll face it together.