"I was supposed to protect her."
"You were following procedure. You couldn't have known?—"
"But I did know." His voice broke completely. "Deep down, I knew. And I ignored it. And now she's in a wheelchair for life because I didn't trust my instincts."
Joy's throat tightened. Her thumbs stroked his cheeks, catching tears.
"Is that why you're so protective? Why you can't stand the thought of?—"
"I can't watch anyone else get hurt because I failed to act." The admission scraped raw from his throat. "When I saw your gate destroyed, your goats missing, all I could think was what if they'd come for you instead?"
Joy's chest ached. His pain filled the small space between them, heavy and suffocating. She understood now. Every overreach, every boundary pushed—it all came from this moment. This failure that wasn't really his.
"I have something to tell you too." The words emerged soft but steady. "About why I react so strongly when you try to control things."
Andre's breathing had calmed slightly. He leaned into her touch, eyes never leaving hers.
"My mom was twenty-two. Studying at the Bright Institute, one of the first human students they accepted." Joy's hands slippedfrom his face to rest between them. "She loved learning about shifters. Thought she was building bridges."
The memory wasn't hers, but she'd heard it enough times to feel its weight.
"There was a cougar shifter named Alex Terry. He fixated on her. Followed her around campus, left gifts at her dorm." Joy's voice hardened. "She turned him down repeatedly. Tried to be kind about it at first, then firm."
Andre's hand found hers, fingers interlacing.
"One night he broke into her room. Threw her roommate against the wall when she tried to intervene." Joy's mountain lion snarled at the inherited memory. "He bit her. Gave her the changing bite against her will. Said he wanted her broken. Said once she was a shifter, she'd understand they belonged together."
"Jesus." Andre's grip tightened.
"She went feral. The forced transformation, the trauma—her mind couldn't process it. She spent three weeks in cougar form, lost in the mountains. Nearly died." Joy met his eyes, seeing his horror. "My dad found her. Helped her remember how to be human again. But she never forgot what it felt like to have every choice ripped away. That is my animal’s legacy. That is where my cougar originated in my family line.”
Understanding dawned in Andre's eyes. "That's why you?—"
"That's why I panic when someone makes decisions for me. Why I need control over my space, my life." Her voice cracked. "My mother made sure I understood. And I… I feel it in my bones.”
They sat in the weight of shared trauma. His partner bleeding on the concrete. Her mother lost in fur and madness. Different wounds that left similar scars.
"I'm not him." Andre's voice came out fierce. "I would never?—"
"I know." Joy squeezed his hand. "Just like you're not responsible for what happened to Sarah. But our bodies remember. Our instincts get tangled up in old pain."
Andre pulled her against him then, arms wrapping around her like he could shield her from her mother's memories. Joy let herself be held, feeling his heartbeat against her cheek. Strong. Steady. Present.
"I need you to understand something." Andre's voice rumbled through his chest into her bones. "When I see threats, my bear goes crazy. It's not about thinking you're weak. It's about failing someone again."
"And I need you to understand my body remembers my mother’s pain. I’ll destroy anyone who tries to control me." Joy pulled back enough to see his face.
His eyes closed, fresh tears threatening. "I'm trying. God, Joy, I'm trying so hard."
"I know." She touched his face again, thumb brushing his cheekbone. "We both are."
The space between them had shrunk to nothing. His breath feathered across her lips. The air shifted, thickened, charged.
Chapter
Twelve
"Joy."The way he said it made her thighs clench and wetness pool between her legs.
