Xander POV
Serafine is limp beneath me, her breathing is slowing, and her body is soft against mine. The knot continues to lock us together, and I look at her body. It’s flushed, marked and covered in moss and streaks of dirt. I can smell her, her scent clings to me, it seeps into my lungs, into my bloodstream. It’s like I can feel her everywhere.
For a long moment, I stay right here. My forehead rests against hers, and I wait forer body to ease enough for me to pull back without hurting her. My wolf is quiet now, deeply quiet, and it’s in a way that I know he’s telling me he’s finally satisfied, and calm.
When I do shift and move, I do it carefully. She doesn’t flinch, or speak, or do anything. Her lashes are stuck together from sweat and tears, but her breathing stays light. She looks like she’s asleep, but I know better. She’s not asleep, she is simply too tired to do anything else. Maybe even too vulnerable to look at me.
Placing my hand against the ground, I push myself up, keeping her against me as I lift off the ground. I gather her into my arms, and she doesn’t resist in any way, instead, she curls in closer. Her head rests on my shoulder, she’s light, a lot lighter than she should be. It almost like she’s been surviving more than living for her whole life. I would expect her to weigh more considering who she is.
I start to make my way back, and the walk is silent. The woods press close, the air is thick but her heat has dulled. Now, my scent is all over her, inside her and wrapping around every part of her body and spirit. It’s making everyone aware she’s mine now. Fully, and undeniably mine.
The thing clawing at my ribs right now isn’t triumph like I would expect; it’s guilt. My wolf isn’t happy with me, and that’s causing issues.
She shouldn’t have gone through this alone, not like that. She shouldn’t have been confused or terrified of what was happening to her own body. She had really never been through heat before, and no one had told her about it. I think back to how she was trying to hide it, how she apologised for the scent. My mind goes back to how she locked herself in as a way to protect herself, and protect others from smelling it. That wasn’t a plot, it was instinct, and desperation.
I ignored the signs, I told myself and anyone who tried to get help for her that she was faking it, I reminded myself that she‘
s the enemy, that she can’t be trusted, ever. I told myself and others that every word out of her mouth was a lie and planned. What if I was wrong?
What if she were drugged, caged up and hidden from everyone? What if she wasn’t taught the way of wolves? What if Jasmine is real?
I step into the clearing behind the pack house. No one is out here now, which is a good thing. I don’t want them to see her like this. She’s still trembling faintly, and I can feel how raw she is. Both inside and out.
Climbing the steps to the pack house, I shift her gently in my arms and use my shoulder to open the door to the private wing. My quarters are down this hall, they are tucked far enough away from others for it to be silent and safe.
She stirs when I set her down on the bed, her fingers cling to my arm for half a second before she lets go. Her eyes open, but just barely, and her lips part like she is about to speak. Nothing comes out, though; they simply close again.
Walking across the room, I grab the cloth from the wash basin and press it to her forehead gently. I wipe away any sweat and dirt, and her breathing hitches, just a little. For a second, I see something in her expression that I haven’t ever seen before.
Trust. For once, it’s not fear, not seduction, it’s simply quiet, exhausted trust.
Something that I know I don’t deserve, not after how I treated her, not after how I spoke to her. After how I doubted every word she spoke, after I insisted she was a liar and I stripped her bare in more ways than one. I don’t deserve her trust. She came to me fragile, and likely hoping for somewhere better than home. I used her fragile nature as another reason to suspect hér. I hated her deeply purely because of who her father was, and what he did. I never let her be anything else but his daughter.
She’s not him, though, I can see that now.
The bond… It wouldn’t exist if she was what I thought she was, right? The bond wouldn’t have chosen a liar for my next mate. My wolf also wouldn’t have answered her like that, he didn’t answer her with violence or suspicion, he answered her with reverence, like he could sense the truth I didn’t want to believe.
I sit on the edge of the bed and just look at her Successfully unlocked! n, but I know she can feel me here. Our bond
hums in the space between our bodies, pulling tight like a thread that I never knew was there until it snapped into place. “I was wrong,” I say softly, unsure if she can even hear me right now. “I see you now, not just who I thought you were.”
She doesn’t answer or speak, her fingers twitch. Just once, curling slightly toward the sound of my voice, and it’s enough for now. I know she heard me.
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