Not One of Them.

Hey sunshines!

So, this is a day or two late, I know, but it's still an early update in my books, because it normally takes me a week to update.

You guys can thank the amazing girl I've dedicated this too, for having this chapter up. She gave me such a sweet comment, after my other beautiful friend forced her to read it. I'm ecstatic to say that she liked this book, and I had to update as soon as possible, just for her ;) She gave me great feedback, and has some amazing books of her own. GO CHECK THEM OUT! Thanks, Steph! You're such a sweetheart!

So, can I please, please get some comments on this chapter? I didn't get more than four or five on the last chapter, and I'm kinda depressed about that :/ Seriously, guys, if you love this enough and have the time, will you comment? I crave your feedback, and one comment can leave a smile on my face all day.

Oooh, what do you think is going on with Mason's mom?

Vote for the early upload? ;)

Love you all!

Mason’s POV

                It isn’t long before my mate’s tears calm down, her breathing evening out as she slowly falls asleep. I sigh softly, reluctantly moving her out of my arms and laying her on the bed beside me. I frown at how empty my arms feel the second I put her down, the sparks that fly between us everywhere we touch fading instantly. Rubbing a hand over my face, I scrub the tear stains off, taking deep breaths.

                I don’t know what to do, I think, tugging on my hair as my wolf paces back and forth in my mind. I don’t know what to do, or how to help her… She’s so much worse off than I thought. My heart aches at the thought, a strange pang in my chest, and my frown deepens.

                I look over at her, memories of our conversation earlier racing through my mind and causing sadness to unfurl in my stomach, making me feel sick. I turn my gaze to her wrist, feeling my body start to shake as my wolf begs to come out and hurt whoever hurt her. Whoever made her like this… Suicidal and positive that everyone’s trying to kill her.

                “I’ll get them back,” I swear to myself, my voice sounding rough and thick, more like my wolf’s than my own. “I’ll make every single one of those bastards pay. And then I’ll make sure no one hurts her, ever again.”

                The promise of revenge calms my wolf down a bit, taking away his anger and my fists stop shaking as I gain hold of my body again, pushing away my wolf’s attempts at shifting. But this only leaves more room for a bitter kind of sadness to fill my body, and I find myself falling to my knees on the bed as tears come to my eyes again.

                “S-she tried-ed to kill herself-f,” I mumble to myself, running my fingertips over the sleepy beauty in front of me; trying to reassure myself that she’s okay. That she’s here. I hit a bumpy, uneven section of skin on her arm, and I freeze, leaning in closer to get a better look in the dim sun light.

                It’s a scar, halfway through the process of healing. The skin is jagged and forms a thin silver line, going from the back of her forearm, right above her wrist, and twining in a delicate, sadistic pattern up and under the middle of her bicep.

                I choke on tears when I take in the horrifyingly detailed slit; it’s like someone was carving a masterpiece into her arm. She couldn’t have done that; there’s no way she’d be steady enough to do that on her own arm.

                As if in tribute to the silver scar, there is a series of jagged, tiny red cuts across the bottom of her wrist, leading up to where that one white square of gauze is, hiding her biggest gash from my sight.