Her words tear through me like a fae’s poisoned claws, but I stand my ground. My wolf snarls, both at the witch’s presence near our vulnerable mate and at the truth of her accusation. “Which is exactly why I’m staying. I need to make this right.”
After a tense stare down, Bonnie finally relents. “Fine. But if you upset her at all when she wakes up…” She leaves the threat unspoken, but I catch her meaning.
The coven has moved Aurora to a small bedroom upstairs, away from the shop downstairs and all its customers. The walls here are lined with dried herbs, woven tapestries, and crystals,and the air smells pleasantly of sage and healing magic. But nothing they’ve done to try to fix her has roused Aurora from unconsciousness.
Her scent is wrong now. It’s been altered by the ritual, tainted with their crude magic and her pain. My wolf whines, desperate to cover her in our scent again and make her whole, to erase any trace of what was done to her.
What I drove her to do by being a selfish asshole.
Settling into the chair beside her bed, I take her small, delicate hand in mine. Her skin is still cool to the touch, but thankfully no longer ice cold or clammy like it was right after the ritual. The sight of her so still and pale makes my chest ache. The bond between us feels… strange. Muted somehow, like a radio station with too much static. I have to concentrate to feel even an echo of her presence, and I worry that it’s going to fade away completely before I can fix this. Before I can fixus.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, brushing my thumb across her pale knuckles. Her hands are calloused from training with Dana, from learning to defend herself because I made her feel small and weak, instead of strong and brave, which she is. “For everything I’ve done to you. For being too weak to stand up to my father. For letting his toxic ideas about strength and masculinity poison everything we could’ve been together.”
She doesn’t stir, but I keep talking to her anyway, clinging onto some fragile hope that she can hear me. The words I’ve held back for five years pour out of me, finally released by my grief and fear.
“I was such a coward. I know that now. I told myself that I was protecting you by rejecting you, keeping you safe from my father’s cruelty and prejudice. But the truth is that I was only protecting myself. I was scared—scared of not being the perfect heir he wanted, scared of proving him right about my weakness.”
Standing up, I grab a washcloth, warm it in the bathroom sink, and gently clean the dried blood from under her nose and ears. She looks so small and lifeless in the bed, nothing like the fierce warrior who fought the fae by my side or the woman who learned MMA skills with Dana. Remembering her strength then compared to her vulnerability now makes my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin, agitated at her current state.
“You’re the strongest person I know,” I tell her as I move to clean the blood where it flowed down her cheeks, carefully supporting her head at the base of her neck. “Not just physically, although watching you take down those water spirits, then that fae in the ruins, was incredible. It’s also your heart, your spirit… you never let anyone make you feel less than what you are. Even me, when I came so close to breaking you.”
My wolf whines, pressing against my skin. For once, we’re in complete agreement about our mate. He wants to curl around her, shield her from the world with our body, never let anyone hurt her again—including me.
“I saw how the pack treated you growing up. I remember the way they whispered and stared because you came from Pack Onyx. Then the way they scorned you because you couldn’t shift. I tried to defend you… but there were so many times I wanted to defend you and didn’t.” My voice breaks as I remember watching her eat lunch alone, seeing other kids move away when she sat near them, whispering that she was contagious. “I should have been there more. Should have stood up for you. Instead I just watched from a distance like a coward, and told myself that there was nothing to be done about it.”
The memory of her isolation tears at me. “Do you know how many times I almost approached you these past five years? How many times I started walking toward you, only to turn away? My wolf never forgave me for that. He still resents me for denying what we both knew was right.”
Footsteps on the stairs make me tense, hackles rising, but it’s just one of the younger witches bringing tea and simple medical supplies. I take them with a grunt of acknowledgment, then turn back to Aurora. My body stays angled between her and the door, a habit I can’t break now that I’ve finally allowed myself to protect her.
“Remember when we were kids? How you used to climb that huge oak tree behind the school, even though everyone said you would fall, because you didn’t have your wolf’s reflexes?” A smile tugs at my lips. “You never fell once. You were more graceful and brave than any of us. I used to watch you when you were up there, pretending to study but really just making sure you were safe.”
Working carefully, I help her sit up enough to sip some water, supporting her head and watching to make sure she doesn’t choke. Her throat works as she swallows, and my wolf rumbles with satisfaction at providing for our mate.
“I kept up with any rumors I heard about you once you moved to the outskirts, you know. Even though it wasn’t my place anymore. I should have been there to support you. Instead I let my father’s voice in my head keep us apart. I thought that I couldn’t be strong if I admitted how much I needed you.” My fingers brush against her pulse point, checking her heartbeat. “But real weakness was denying what we could have been. What we should be, even now.”
More footsteps approach—this time unfamiliar ones, heavier than the witches. The scent of an unknown man shifter hits my nose and my wolf surges forward with a surge of possessive rage. A young man appears in the doorway, looking uncertain, smelling like foreign packs.
“The witches said they might be able to help me with my mate bond…” He trails off as I let out a warning growl, my wolfrising to the surface. My lips peel back from my teeth as I move to completely block Aurora from view.
“Not. Now.” Each word is accompanied with a snarl. “Come back another time.”
He backs away quickly, hands raised. Good. The mere thought of another man near my mate while she’s vulnerable makes my blood boil. I don’t care if I’m being unreasonable—she’smineto protect now, even though she may wake up and make it clear she wants me gone.
Throughout the day, I help the witches tend to her. They bring various healing potions, which I help Aurora swallow, and balms, which I rub into her pulse points as instructed, my fingers lingering on her neck. I change the cool compress on her forehead when she develops a fever, and adjust her blankets when she shivers. Each time another shifter man arrives seeking the coven’s help, I chase them away with increasingly hostile growls.
“You’re going to scare away all our customers,” Bonnie comments dryly after I send a third shifter running, this one having barely made it up the stairs to ‘use the bathroom’ before my snarls drove him back. “They’re not going to come back if they think they’ll meet their demise each time they try to pee.”
“Good.” I don’t take my eyes off Aurora as I squeeze her hand. My wolf is restless, desperate to lie down and curl around her, to keep her warm and safe. “They can wait until she’s better. Or piss outside.”
The witch makes an exasperated sound, but leaves us alone. Smart of her—I’m in no mood to be reasonable about sharing space with anyone else right now. Especially someone partially responsible for her current state.
As evening approaches, I continue my one-sided conversation with Aurora, telling her everything I’ve kept bottled up inside me for years. The words flow easier in thegrowing darkness, as if the night gives me permission to finally be honest.
“I love the way your eyes shine when you talk about something you’re passionate about. How you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking really, really hard. The way the light hits your eyes, each color special in every way. Your strength and bravery, and the vulnerability you try to hide that makes you that much stronger.”
Reaching out, I trace the curve of her cheek with my thumb, selfishly enjoying the fact that I can touch her without seeing the recrimination or grief in her eyes at what I’ve done to her. “I memorized every little thing about you, even while I was pushing you away. The sound of your laugh. How you chew on your lip when you’re nervous. The way you looked last night when I was inside you, like you’d finally found home.”
Leaning close, I brush a strand of hair from her face. Her scent fills my lungs, and my wolf whines at how wrong it still smells, fainter than before, missing that lilac and honey that makes herher.“I loveyou,Aurora. All of you. Wolf or no wolf, you’re perfect exactly as you are, and you always have been. I was an idiot not to see it sooner, to try to pretend you were weak when I was the one who was weak. I’ll always regret that I let my father’s twisted ideas about strength keep me from claiming what was mine.”
