Chapter 58
JESSICA
I only cried this hard during my father’s funeral. A sob escaped my lips but I continue to wash away Theo’s touch, scrubbing until my skin way row and bleeding in places. It wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to erase what happened.
I’m so angry at myself. So fucking angry I could scream until my throat bleeds too, Why didn’t I see it coming? Why didn’t I fight Harder? The soap slips from my fingers, clattering against the shower floor as my knees finally give out. I slide down the wall, hot water mixing with hotter
tears.
”
“Stupid,” I whisper, digging my nails into my palms. “So goddamn stupid.”
Dad always said I had fighter’s instincts. “You’re a wolf, honey, not a rabbit,” he’d tell me. What would he say now? Seeing his daughter curled up, shivering, trying to scrub away shame instead of fighting back?
Why couldn’t I have been that brave? That quick? That strong?
A laugh bubbles up–bitter, hollow–mixing with my tears. I slam the water off and wrap myself in a towel, not caring that water still drips down my legs onto the floor. Everything hurts–inside, outside. My mind races like a trapped animal, replaying every second, every mistake.
My phone buzzes on the counter. Three missed calls. All from Grayson.
I throw on the first clothes I find–an old tank top and sweatpants–and dive into my bed, burying myself under the comforter. The darkness feels good. Safe. The only place I can hide from what happened, from what I let happen.
Suddenly, the door creaks open and I instantly knew who it was because I smell his cologne.
Grayson.
I curl tighter, pulling the sheets over my head, making myself as small as possible. I can’t let him see me like this. He’ll know. One look and he’ll know something happened, and then-
“Hey…” Grayson sat on the edge of my bed, hands trying to search for mine. “Where were you today? You told the director you’re sick?”
I did. I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t even want to see anyone.
The bed shifts as Grayson moves closer. I can feel his warmth through the blanket–it should be comforting, but right now it’s just another
sensation I can’t handle.
“Hey, talk to me,” he whispers, gently tugging the covers. I clutch them tighter. “What’s really going on?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” My voice cracks, betraying me instantly.
He sighs, and I feel his hand rest on what he probably thinks is my shoulder but is actually my hip. I jerk away instinctively, my body reacting before my brain can stop it.
“Whoa,” his voice is soft, concerned. “What’s that about?”
I peek out from the blanket, just enough to see his face. Mistake. His eyes are full of that protective worry that makes my chest ache. They scan my face, lingering on my red–rimmed eyes, my raw skin.
“Just don’t feel good,” I mutter, trying to look anywhere but at him. “Stomach bug or something.”
He reaches out–slowly, carefully–and brushes damp hair from my forehead. The tender gesture makes my eyes sting with fresh
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Your hair’s wet he observes. “You’re taking hot showers when you’re sick?”
Before I can answer, he leans down, pressing his lips to my forehead like he’s checking for fever. It’s so gentle, so Grayson, that for forget to breathe.
“You don’t feel hot,” he murmurs against my skin. His lips move to my temple, then my cheek. Checking or comforting, I’m not sure any mor
My hands push against his chest–not hard, just enough. “Don’t.”
He freezes immediately, pulling back to search my face. I see confusion, then hurt, then something sharper. More alert.
“Did something happen?” he asks, voice suddenly tense.
“No!” I answer too quickly, scrambling to sit up. The blanket falls away and I see his eyes catch on my arms–on the red marks from scrubbing too hard. I pull them under the covers fast.
“I’m just in a mood, okay? Nothing happened.” I force a laugh that sounds hollow even to my ears. “Can’t a girl just feel crappy without twenty questions?”
His jaw tightens slightly, but his voice stays gentle. “Sure. But most girls don’t look like they’ve been crying for hours when they have a stomach bug.”
I roll my eyes, going for annoyed instead of terrified. “Maybe I’m not most girls.”
“That’s definitely true,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. He reaches for my hand under the blanket. I let him take it, even though every nerve ending screams.
His thumb traces circles on my palm, and he leans in again, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. “Whatever it is,” he whispers, “you can tell me. You know that, right?”
For a second, I almost break. Almost let the walls come crashing down. But then I imagine what would happen–what Grayson would do-
and I can’t. Not yet.
“I know,” I lie, squeezing his hand once before pulling away. “I just need sleep. Really.”
He studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Okay. But I’m bringing you dinner later. No arguments.”
As he stands to leave, I notice how his eyes linger on my arms again, how his posture has changed from relaxed to alert. He knows something’s wrong. He just doesn’t know what.
And I pray he never finds out.
Grayson has worked his entire life to become alpha. The pack is everything to him. His family. His purpose. His legacy.
And I’ve put it all at risk because I was stupid. Because I thought I could handle things on my own.
A fresh wave of tears hits, and this time I don’t try to stop them. I curl into myself, hugging my knees to my chest as sobs wrack my body. The look on his face when he noticed my bruises… that wasn’t just concern. That was the beginning of suspicion.
How long before he connects the dots? Before he realizes that the one he called mate just joined a revolution to overthrow his family out of power?
How can he ever forgive that?
“I’m so sorry,” I sob, my words echoing against the sheets. “I was trying to help.”
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But good Intentions won’t matter. I’m a traitor now. If Grayson sees these photos without explanationst van Felo Mesa
truth now, it will destroy us
“Goddess of the moon, keeper of mates and bonds, I recite the ancient prayer through hiccuping sobs, guide me through this part me find a way to stand for justice without betraying my heart.”
Fortunately, Theo told me something. The revolution is set to strike during the next full moon–right on the event where I am supposed to shift to my wolf. I have to make an impossible choice. And I hope I make the right choice.
AD
