His Broken Mate

Chapter 25

Elaina's POV

Thankfully, no one has asked me about all the screaming from last night- I'm guessing Xavier sent out a mind link. Even if they did ask, I wouldn't be able to answer. My voice is pretty much gone, and my throat hurts like crazy. I've just been drinking tea with a ton of honey in it and reading while Xavier works. Luckily not many people come to the library during the day, so hours go by where I'm free to just drown in literature.

I love reading so much, but every time I finish a book, my heart breaks a little because I don't want it to be over. Every time a book ends, I have to come back to my universe, back to my shitty life. As I finish my fourth novel of the day, I wipe away a tear from the last heart-wrenching chapter. I sigh and look up for the first time in a couple hours to see Xavier sleeping with his head in his arms on the make-shift desk. I guiltily furrow my eyebrows as I think of him staying up to make sure I don't have another night terror.

I stretch my limbs, emerging from my little blanket cocoon and standing up. I take a deep breath and examine Xavier's hunched, sleeping form. With incredible effort, I manage to lean him back on the couch and toss a blanket over him. I soundlessly giggle as I see the usually tense, aggressive alpha lightly snoring with his mouth hanging open.

I straighten out my white socks, which got bunched up around my ankles from all my moving. I give a final stretch before picking up the small stack of of finished books to return to the nice lady at the counter that keeps track of all the books. Apparently a lot of kids use books from the library for school, and aren't very good at returning them. I guess they actually had to hire someone to manage the flow of books, to make sure they were all returned, put back in the right place, etc. Mary told me all about it while I was checking out some books the other day. She says she's been working as the librarian for years, and has been since her kids first started school, so that she had something to do during the day.

I softly walk to her desk and hand her my books. "Thanks," I say in a painful whisper. Oh right, I should probably get some more tea. I offer up a little wave and go back to our work area, grabbing my empty mug and checking on Xavier. Maybe I should wait until he's awake to get tea... but my throat really hurts. Hmm. I'll be quick.

I grab my phone off the table, pause my music, and send him a text explaining where I've gone just in case he wakes up while I'm gone- which with my luck, he will. I sigh. I used to live in fear of my family, and now I live in fear of my supposed soul mate. I give another little sigh through my nose and start lightly treading to the kitchen, which I can probably find by now. Okay, down the stairs, a right? No, left. Third door- no that's an office. Fourth door, through the den, avoid eye contact, a right? Oh fuck fuck fuck people fuck don't acknowledge me please panic panIc pAnIc- oh thank god they went a different way . . .

After maybe ten minutes, I finally find the elusive kitchen. I fill the electric kettle and flip it on. I throw out my old tea bag and opt for a new one- peppermint tea. I put the bag in my cute mug (it has a kitten on top of a stack of books on it!) and drown the dry tea bag in a blob of golden honey. I'm just hoping it helps my throat because I can't really talk and it hurts just to swallow or hum.

The kettle finally lets out a little beep, to signal that the water's done heating up. Steam rises from the spout as I tip the kettle, pouring the scalding water into the mug. The water slowly rises, swirling around the tea bag and melting the honey. I give a little hum of contentment as I stir the tea, loving the smell of mint.

I let it cool for a few minutes before taking a minuscule sip, making sure not to burn my mouth. I let the honey coat my throat as I gaze out the window, getting lost in my thoughts.

Xavier's POV

The day is bleak and gray, with clouds promising rain. The whole week has been miserable. Mom was found dead- she got in a car crash after storming out of the house; she and Dad were in one of their rare fights, where they let all a bunch of other things build up and burst at the slightest annoyance. As soon as the police man told my dad what had happened, he blamed himself. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he said I wouldn't understand yet because I'm only ten, but I think he's doing what the therapist lady said people do when their moms die- he's grieving.