Page 24

Emily

It’s like I’m underwater.

The sounds and smells that usually bombard my senses are distant now, dulled like there's cotton stuffed in my ears and up my nose. Like I’m not really here.

I can barely register that I’m sitting down on my bed and that Sofia is here.

She’s talking to me, but I can’t take in what she’s saying.

Her lips are moving, her eyes full of concern, but the words don’t land.

I can’t take them in. Everything is lost to the muffled fog that’s descended over my brain

I just want to sleep. Or not sleep. Just… stop being awake. Stop being anything. I want to hibernate. So I do the only thing that makes sense. I lie down and close my eyes, grateful for the numbness that slides in like the tide.

I don’t know how much time has passed when I wake up, but it’s dark out now.

My stomach rumbles as I come out of the numb state.

This is what always happens. My body has been doing this for a while now—when things got particularly bad with Aidan.

In the early days, when things turned physical, my wolf howled at me to fight back or run away, but my mind intervened to remind me that would only make things worse.

I couldn’t win.

So eventually, my body accepted I was stuck.

I stopped reacting at all. My body went still and everything shut down.

The pain was less intense. The shame didn’t sting so much.

And things like eating and drinking seemed unimportant.

Even my wolf receded; silenced and subdued.

The connection between us thinned so much that, at times, I forgot she was there.

But it can't last forever, and once the numbness passes, everything else comes rushing back. I’m grateful for the reprieve while it lasts though. It’s helped me to survive.

My stomach rumbles again. I groan and slide off the bed, heading toward the door. I need to find something—anything—to eat from the pack kitchen. Except when I open my door, a body falls inwards, and I jump back as Jackson tumbles onto the floor of my room.

“Jackson? What are you doing?”

He scrambles into a seated position, cheeks flushed and sheepish. “Oh, uh… hey Emily. How are you feeling?”

“Um, better now, thanks. So, what are you doing?” I ask again because there is absolutely no way I’m letting this go. The light is low, but I see a slight blush on his neck.

He clears his throat, brushing nonexistent dust off his pants.

“My wolf was worried. He’s… ah, he’s very protective of omegas.

And… well, he wouldn’t let me sleep unless I was near you.

” His words are slow at first before spilling out quickly all of a sudden.

Like he was trying to think of something else to say but couldn’t, so he wanted to get the words out quickly. Like ripping off a band aid.

His words leave me warm and cared for in a way I’m not used to with men. I’m not sure what to say, but my stomach seems to get impatient as it groans in hunger again.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” I admit as he gets to his feet.

“Come on, you won’t get much in the pack house kitchen at this time, but my place is close by,” he says and holds his hand out to me.

I hesitate, just long enough to know I should probably tell him no and go back to bed.

But I don’t want to. So, I take a deep breath and place my hand in his.

Tingles shoot up my arm as they always do when our skin connects.

His fingers interlace with mine as we walk to his place in comfortable silence, the moon lighting our way.

I must have slept for well over twelve hours.

Jackson leads me to his cabin, only a couple of hundred yards from the packhouse.

He opens the unlocked door and heads inside, illuminating the room by turning a lamp on.

He gives our sensitive eyes a moment to adjust before turning on the main lights.

His cabin is warm and homely inside, not at all what I would expect of a delta or honestly any single male. Soft cream curtains and cozy furniture accent the timber walls. A large, shaggy orange rug looks almost as comfortable as the couch. It smells like Jackson and the outdoors.

“Omelet, okay? Or I can make something else?”

“An omelet sounds amazing, thanks. Whatever is easiest. I’m not fussy.”

While Jackson busies himself in the kitchen, I walk into the other half of his open-plan living area.

Above the fireplace, a mismatched collection of framed photographs draws my attention.

I recognize Ryan, Luca, Sofia, and some of the pack warriors.

There are several photos of an older couple who I guess must be Jackson’s parents, as well as a woman who looks a couple of years older than me.

She’s strikingly beautiful and I can’t help the stab of jealousy at seeing Jackson's arm wrapped around her.

Was this the woman he thought was his fated mate?

Something about her expression tugs at me.

“My sister,” he says, coming to stand beside me as he holds cutlery and a plate with my omelet in his hands. His head tilts back to the couch, indicating I should take a seat.

“She’s beautiful.”

“She was,” he sighs and steps back to sit on the couch. I make my way over to him and gaze into his brown eyes, imploring him to answer my silent question about the past tense he used. He looks away.

“You need to eat,” he says, nodding to my plate.

I take a bite, groaning as the delicious taste melts in my mouth.

I’ve never had a man cook for me before and I really wasn’t expecting it to be so good.

Jackson stares at my mouth until I worry there’s something on my face.

I swipe over my mouth with the back of my hand, but there’s nothing there.

“Eat, please.”

I rush to swallow the remainder of the plate in a few bites.

Unsure what to do once I finish, I set my plate down and watch him.

I wish I wasn’t so awkward and knew what to say, but I don’t.

So I just stare, until he breaks the silence.

“My sister, Katie, was 23 when she and my mom were killed in an attack on the pack.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, reaching out. My hand lands just above his knee, tentative but sincere. His warmth seeps into me through the softness of his sweatpants. “That must have been awful.”

“Yeah, it was. But I don’t deserve any sympathy. It was all my fault,” he remarks. I don’t detect any sign that he is lying, so his words are either true or he at least believes them earnestly. His shoulders have slumped, and he looks at the ground, a sorrow weighing him down so much it’s visible.

“Do you want to tell me about them?” I ask softly, not wanting to push him .

He looks into my eyes and moments pass by before he responds. Time stretching but never feeling uncomfortable. Jackson seems to surprise himself as much as he does me when he responds. “Yeah, I think I would.

“Katie was only a year older than me. She was the best big sister, always had my back when I got in trouble, and she made the best cookies. She was an omega like you. So was Mom. My dad was the Delta before me. He died when I was twenty. Mom never got over losing her fated mate, but she tried for Katie and me. She tried so hard.”

His eyes are distant as he remembers them. I wonder if he can think of them without the pain overshadowing his positive memories. His hand lands softly on where mine rests on his leg. I turn it over and he links his fingers in mine.

“Katie and I spent so much time with her, trying to help her through her loss. It made the three of us incredibly close. We talked about everything, and they were so excited for me to meet my mate, just like Mom and I were excited for Katie to meet hers.”

“I met a girl at a mating ball just after I turned twenty-one. Her name was Sarah, and I felt a magnetic pull to her right away. She was across the room, and I couldn’t get her scent straight away.

I just knew I needed to get closer to her.

When I got near her, she turned to me and said ‘mate’.

I was drunk on the possibilities, and I didn’t know any better, so I assumed she was my mate even though things were off. ”

He takes a breath, and I can practically see his shame rolling off him. “But she wasn’t my mate. She was an evil bitch looking for an easy in.”

I have so many questions. What was off about her?

What was her plan? Did she target him intentionally?

And if so, why? But I don’t ask. I don’t want to interrupt him.

He settles back on the couch and I go with him, tucking my legs under me.

I rub circles on the back of his hand with my thumb—like Sofia did for me—and find myself leaning closer to him.

Desperate for him not to feel alone in his vulnerability.

“She distracted me from my patrol while her buddies poured into the pack. We didn’t teach omegas self-defense back then and Mom was already weak after losing Dad.

They didn’t stand a chance. Once the alarm was raised, I realized what was happening, but it was too late. Mom was dead and Katie was gone.”

My heart twists and I move closer to him.

He leans forward and lowers his face into his free hand, shoulders trembling. The salty tang of his tears hits me, even if he doesn’t let them fall. His voice cracks as he continues .

“There was so much blood, but the trail disappeared in the forest and it wasn’t long before our family bond snapped, letting me know she was dead. We never found her body.”

My heart aches. I can’t begin to imagine the immeasurable void his loss has left behind. I don’t have siblings. I never even had a close friend before I met Sofia. I can’t begin to imagine the loss he suffered.

The thought of him losing his mom and sister in such a horrific way is beyond tragic; it’s heartbreaking. I lay my head on his shoulder, and he lets go of my hand to wrap his arm around me and pull me closer to him.