(Asher)
I was shaken to my core. By the time I got home, not even then had I calmed down. My nerves were rattled, my mind racing a thousand miles per minute, and my breathing irregular. I had hurried home, and even though I took a shower to rinse off the day's sweat, hot or cold, the water did nothing to calm me down.
By now, my breathing had come easy returning to its rate of normalcy. But my heart and mind were in a constant race as if waiting to see which could scare me first. Lying on my bed, I curled up into a foetal position under the blankets, pulling the covers up to my lips while my mind raced with Jaxon's words.
He called himself a 'thing.' I know people who refer to each other as such, but it's always meant in a light-hearted, joking manner. The way Jaxon had said it disturbed me. What could be so wrong with him that he'd hate himself so much?
I couldn't get over the self-loathing in his eyes. He hated himself so much it was suffocating. And all this time I kept thinking to myself what the actual fuck went wrong with my mating bond? I kept thinking over my life, of all the things I could've done to piss the Moon Goddess off that she would seek my punishment by sticking me with such a bastard.
I thought he was mean. That he was heartless. He had to be if he could look me in the eyes and tell me he didn't want me. Even if he didn't say those exact words at one time, him saying he doesn't want his mate his exactly the same. I figured Jaxon West had to be heartless if he could look into my eyes- see the pain his actions caused me, how much it was tearing me apart to see him with other guys and girls- and smirk as if he'd won something.
The Jaxon West I knew was arrogant. He was an asshole who cared not for the relationships he destroyed and the people he hurt if it meant he alone was happy. He painted the portrait of strong, dominating, arrogant, fearless, and a bit of an idiot in my mind's eye.
But today, I was shown something different. He wasn't strong. He was trying to be and losing desperately to the darkness that consumed his soul. He was arrogant, yes. He was dominating, yes. Because he was hiding pain behind that mask. Pain I saw so clearly in dimmed sapphire orbs; eyes that lacked the fire that should be present given his age and rank. Being so young, and being a high ranked wolf was the best mix anyone can hope for. Yet, he was suffocating.
My mate isn't happy.
And that single thought shredded me. I shouldn't care for him after everything he's done, and all the trouble he stirred up. The war he almost started when he went after Jace; Sky's mate. I should hate him for the way he disregarded our mate bond, flaunted his latest hook-ups in front of me, smirking in smug satisfaction because he knew how much it hurt me. I should hate his guts for saying he didn't want his mate; that he didn't want me.
The day he'd said those words, it shattered me. I went home that day wondering what was so wrong with me. Jaxon was my mate. Hearing him say those words made me doubt every decision I had ever made. Every relationship I built. I was in a bad place. Part of me scrutinized Sky and wondered if maybe he was a heartless prick and had lied to me all the times, we'd been together. I wondered if he'd only really cared about getting laid and didn't give two shits about me.
I scrutinized everyone around me. My alpha and luna, Dale, Carter, my parents. I had been overthinking and thinking unnecessary thoughts. But that day was the first time in a long time I allowed myself to wallow in self-pity. I let the sub in me conquer my mind, and I hated everyone. But above all else, I hated myself.
I hated everything.
And yet, I couldn't come to hate Jaxon. Especially not after today. What I had borne witness to was just not right. I had moments where I fell into despair. Where I hated myself like no other. But Jaxon didn't just hate himself.
He was disgusted with who he is.
And that made me curious. Gave me a lick of hope.
I wanted to see who was behind the mask. Maybe we could make something work. Maybe it didn't have to be this way.
The sound of the front door to my home opening and closing dragged me from my train of depressing thoughts. The sound was followed by my mother's voice calling out to me wondering if I had arrived home. Sitting up, I shuffled out from under the covers and padded across the short space from my bed to the door.
I headed downstairs following the sound of rustling bags and dishes clanking lightly. "Mom." I greeted quietly, my gaze on the back of her head since her back was to the doorway. My mother turned around immediately, her warm smile in greeting quickly diminishing when she caught the look on my face.
That was the thing with my parents. They knew me so well, that I couldn't hide anything from them. I hadn't said a word that I'd found my mate. They know I'm keeping something, but they didn't pressure me. I would tell them in my own time.
"Pumpkin? What's wrong?" she asked, her brow creasing with worry as she made her way over to me. I met her halfway, coming to stand at the island counter where she had a few brown bags placed, the brown decorated with a familiar burger logo.
Burger King.
My favourite.
"Nothing." I assured her, trying my best to bring a mask of stoicism down on my features. I plopped down on a chair and began ruffling through the bags trying to figure out which one was mine. I ate a lot despite my small body, my typical Burger King meal consisting of their chicken sandwich, fries, and chicken nuggets completed with their barbeque dip sauce. Of course, I'd have a drink to go with it.
Unwrapping the sandwich, I then pulled out the box of chicken nuggets, and opened the two barbeque dips. I glanced up to find my mother giving me a disapproving stare. Of course, she wouldn't believe me. She's my mother. She knew me better than most, could tell when I was distressed, and when I lied. Like I was now.
"Asher Stone." she called firmly. My shoulders slumped, and I took a tired sigh, meeting her concerned blue eyes.
"Yes, mother." I returned, knowing that she wasn't about to take any crap from me. She addressed me only by my full name when she was cross with me or trying to tell me I can't feed her crapped out lies. My mother crossed her arms over her chest, deep blonde curls ruffling with her movements over her shoulder.
"I'm your mother. I can tell when you're lying." Taking the seat next to me, she turned so that her body was facing me. I turned as well, my hands settling in my lap. She cupped my chin for a moment. "What's wrong, son?"
"I found my mate." I admitted, swirling a fry in the barbeque dip. She gasped, her eyes alight with excitement. However, when she took note of my sombre aura, her features softened, and she frowned.
"You're not happy?" My gaze fell. It's not that.
It's not that at all.
I'm afraid of what could happen between Jaxon and me. It's no longer a mystery to me the darkness that Jaxon lives in constantly. How it happened and why he lets himself fall deeper into it, I'm not sure I want to know.
I wanted to completely ignore it all and forget about our conversation earlier. But the look in his eyes, and the desperation in his voice was something that I, as his mate, couldn't just ignore. I couldn't put it out of my mind.
So, I told her. I told her about Jaxon West. About how he was the one who stirred up trouble with Marcana when he challenged our third-in-command for his mate. I told her about what our relationship was like, and eventually, I got around to summarizing our conversation from earlier at the coffee house.
It was a lengthy chat, and we were both engrossed in it. I poured my feelings, and my troubles out to my mother, and she listened carefully to each word that left my lips. Neither of us heard when the front door to our home opened and someone else had entered.
"It sounds as if he's just as afraid as you are." a man said from the doorway to the kitchen. I turned around to find my father leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. Many pack members said that I looked like my father. Except, he had dark hair, and was tall and muscular. I was significantly shorter, with natural blonde hair like my mother, but with my father's chocolate brown eyes.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know what to do." I added lightly, and my father shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. He unfolded his arms and walked over to us, patting my shoulder.
"I think you do. I didn't raise a coward."
Oh gee! Thanks dad! Way to boost my confidence and actually help out your child who's obviously in need of great, useful parental advice. He must've caught my drift from the unamused stare I threw at him, and he laughed lightly.
"I'm not like you." I fired. "You're not afraid of anything." At this, my parents exchanged glances before they looked back to me. I noticed my father's smile had changed. It had become softer, and much more...father-like.
"Is that what you think it's about?" my father asked, tilting his head a little. I arched a brow at him, nodding my head hesitantly. "I never taught you to not be afraid. Fear happens naturally. I taught you to be brave. To have courage even when you're facing something that terrifies you."
**
I couldn't sleep a wink a that night. All I tossed and turned, removed my duvet and curled up under it, nothing helped. The events of the day just kept rolling through my mind stuck on replay.
Worse. The conversation at the coffee house with Jaxon followed by the conversation with my father. It's true. My parents did grow me up to be brave. I've stumbled across things in all my seventeen years that have made me scared, and yet, somehow or another, I found a way to be brave, and to conquer the fear that made my heart race and my adrenaline pump.
Like the one time during summer when I was seven. I fell from a tree while playing with Carter and Sky. I broke my leg and spent that summer in recovery and rehab. I'd been so terrified that I'd never make a full recovery and spend the rest of my life crippled or deformed. And as a sub, I'd seen one too many times the cruelty of dominants towards 'damaged goods.' They wanted perfect mates; submissive in every form of the word, pretty and perfect with not a single deformity.
But, luckily, I did make a full recovery. And it was also around the same time I'd had just about enough of dominants and their ego and decided to make an intensely personal decision. The same one that had led me down the road I now walk.
So, why was this situation with Jaxon any different? Why couldn't I find it in myself to conquer the fear that gripped me? The same way I did when I seven years old?
Frustrated with not being able to fall asleep, especially when I glanced to the bedside alarm clock to find the digits 3:53 a.m. glaring back at me in red, I kicked off my covers and stormed out of my room. Immediately as I walked down the steps, I turned off the house alarm because if I continued further, the alarm would be triggered, and I'd wake my parents up.
I headed out to the back through the kitchen and went around to where the porch swing was and plopped down, pulling my feet up.
I couldn't understand it.
Was it the mate bond? Or was it just me? Us?
For the first time in my life, my head and my heart were in two different places. My mind said that I shouldn't go with Jaxon. That I shouldn't care about him or his problems. But at the same time, my heart was saying that I shouldn't just dismiss it. I should try.
Don't run away.
Ugh!
Jaxon West. How would I describe him? Dark, mysterious, pained, troubled, and even with all his issues, he still managed to make my heart skip a beat. My mind remained stuck in that moment at the coffee shop and just the memory of that conversation, his darkness, and the expression on his face and the desperation in his voice.
And all over again, my heart was pounding in my ears, my breathing turning uneven as I felt the sudden need to be with him. I wanted to comfort him until somehow, some way, I could make his darkness disappear.
All of his despair, his hatred, his anger...all of it.
I had no idea how long I'd sat there mulling over what to do because the next thing I know is that I hear my father's voice pulling me out of trance.
"Early morning?" he asked, coming to sit down next to me on the porch swing. I just shook my head, lifting my gaze to take note of the rising sun. Setting my feet down, I wiped my face and rubbed my eyes.
"Couldn't sleep. What time is it?" I returned, frowning as I turned my head to look at him.
"Just past six." he replied, and I expelled a breath, staring owlishly at the porch floor amazed by how easily Jaxon West had stolen a entire night's sleep from me. Just like that. All he had to do was say a few words to have me tossing and turning, my mind screaming at me all night long.
"Jesus!" Running a hand through my hair, I got to my feet. "That bastard steals my sleep and then has me losing track of time, too. I'll kick his ass later." Glancing to my father out the corner of my eye, I noticed him giving me an arched stare as he leaned back against the chair swing. Stepping back, I came to lean against the iron railing that surrounded the back porch as I expelled a deep breath.
"It's just...Jaxon. I kept thinking about our conversation at the coffee house and then what you said." I lowered my head into my hands, shaking my head. "Shit...I hate feeling like this." I admitted, and my father had yet to say a word. He just sat there quietly, listening and watching my every move.
"What?" he asked quietly, and I knew exactly what he was asking. What did I feel? Why am I feeling like this?
"I feel helpless. I mean, I want to ignore everything where Jaxon is concerned, but I can't. I'm scared of what I'll find if I give him a chance. I'm frustrated because I don't know what to do. And that...that scares me the most."
Crossing my arms over my chest, I kept my gaze pointed to the floor. My father didn't speak for a moment, but I knew he heard everything I said. And I knew it was only a matter of time before he said something.
However, his next words caught me off guard. Truth is, I wasn't sure what he would reply with.
"Asher." he said, making me glance to him as I nibbled my lower lip. "That's what having a mate is about. You think your mother and I were always like this?"
If I'm going to be completely honest with myself, then yes. My parents were perfect for each other and I'm not saying that because they were paired up for life by the Moon Goddess. They really were the perfect couple, and after eighteen years of marriage, they never seemed to tire of each other. I mean for fuck's sake, they are grown ass adults and they still manage to make each other blush.
So yeah. Maybe I did believe my parents had always been this way. When I said nothing in response, my father laughed lightly.
"Wrong. I wasn't always this brave. Or strong. Before, I used to be scared, too. When I met your mother, I was in no frame of mind for a mate because at seventeen years old, my biggest worry was taking my position as fourth-in-command of my pack. It may not be as important as alpha, beta, or even third-in-command but it's still a job with a lot of responsibility. I had to become stronger. Not just for me. But also for your mom."
I frowned at this, tilting my head as I looked to him. "Mom wasn't always like this?" My father shook his head, before he expelled a breath, closing his eyes as if preparing himself for something truly disturbing. Then, he cracked his eyes opened, and looked over to me.
"Ever wonder why we don't talk about or visit your mother's side of the family?" I nodded quietly. It wasn't something that often plagued my mind, but every once in a while, I wondered why we didn't have any contact with my mother's family. They couldn't be that bad, could they?
"They're self-absorbed, arrogant dominants who think they're better than everyone. Your mother had some serious issues when we first met, and it was because of them. They belittled her every chance they got, just because she was the only submissive in her family. Your mom got better when I brought her to Marcana. And it's why we've never once contacted them since, or even told them about you."
"I'm not weak." I fired. My father leaned forward, clasping his hands together, keeping his eyes trained on me, a slight knowing smirk playing at his lips.
"Then don't run away. Stay and fight. Give him a chance."
"I know. I just..." Crossing my arms over my chest, I glanced away. I was silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain just how I felt. "You didn't see him yesterday at the coffee shop. I don't think I've ever seen anyone hate themselves that much, and it really scared me. I want to help him, but I just don't think I'm strong enough. I don't know what to do and that's what scares me."
My father got up from where he sat and nodded his head as he walked toward me. He placed a hand on my shoulder. "A word of advice, Asher. It's the small things that matter. You want to help him? Just be there when he needs you. It can go a long way."
From the way he said that, I had a feeling my father was speaking from experience. He was talking about my mother. It had to be. If her family were as bad as my father made them out to be, and judging from my personal experiences with egotistical dominants, it was the only thing that made sense. But still, I had to make sure.
If I was going to help Jaxon, and heed my father's advice, I needed to be sure it would somehow work. I had to know if my father had been in a similar situation, or if he was speaking just to sound like a wise-ass.
"Did you do that for mom?"
My father nodded. "Your mother was scared of me when we first met. She was skittish and tried her damn best to make me happy. She thought I would treat her the way her pack and family did if she did something that displeased me. And her trust in me was something I took a long time to gain."
"But you did, anyway?"
"Because I was patient. If your mother was going to open up to me, it had to be on her own time. She needed to get comfortable with me. She needed to know I'd be there when it mattered."
Could I do that for Jaxon?
I mean, my relationship with Jaxon is very different from my parents'. But my mother had a troubled past. Jaxon obviously has a troubled past, one I'd like to know about if it meant saving him from how disgusted he was in himself.
I heeded my father's words, and his advice. And it was the only thing that plagued my thoughts the next day at school. It weighed down on me heavily because right off the bat, this was no easy decision. I was interfering in someone else's life here. And not just anybody. He's my mate, and I stood at a point where I could save him or ruin him completely.
But I had made up my mind.
My mind still confused on this whole situation since I wasn't at all sure what was expected of me, I had told Syl that once again, I wouldn't be taking the bus with him. I needed to clear things up with Jaxon and figure out where we stood.
Syl had reluctantly parted ways with me at the end of the school day. And it was only because Brent and his cronies were in the student parking lot when Syl and I exited the building. Of course, being the insufferable imbeciles they were, they attempted to harass poor little Syl, throwing insults at him for his sexuality and the very fact that Syl, unlike most guys at our school, human or werewolf, was small.
For fuck's sake, he's as small and short as Dale's mate, Laken; barely reaching 5'5". I also noticed that among the group that harassed him, was Syl's so-called crush.
He was handsome; gorgeous even. Then again, it's to be expected since he was one, a werewolf; two, a dominant male, and three, the future beta of his pack. Currently, there are four wolf packs in residence of this town we share with humans. Marcana, being the first pack in the area; the second was called Crescent Hill; the third is Lativa, and now Jaxon's pack, Black Rock Canyon has made it four.
And our dear friend and bully, Blake Dalton, is the future beta of Crescent Hill. And I totally get what Syl was saying about him being nice to look at. He certainly was something to look at. But his pretty face was just pissing me off more and more. All his insults he threw at Syl, and I wondered if he realized that coming from someone Syl had a crush on, his words were slowly beating Syl down.
Their insults and jeers at Syl for being true to himself was pissing me off more than the high pitched female giggles coming from the groupies that stuck to those guys like blood-sucking leeches. Glancing over to Syl as we finally approached Jaxon's car, I noticed Jaxon had yet to exit the building- no fucking surprise there- and also, Syl now had his shoulders slumped, head hung, and he was desperately fighting to keep his tears at bay.
Sending a shrivelling glare at Blake and Brent, I turned my attention back to Syl as I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ignore those fools, Syl." Then, a smirk split my face as I thought of something that would probably make him laugh. "Besides, those assholes don't know what they're saying." Syl lifted his head, brown eyes glazed over with unshed tears, confusion etching onto his face. "They're saying you're a disgusting faggot. But, if I were to toss you into a gay club, you'll turn those clubbers into dogs in heat."
Syl sniffled, laughing as he wiped at his eyes and nose. "Ew, you're so vulgar!" I laughed as well, poking his nose.
"Maybe. But you are laughing. So, my vulgar humour has paid off." I replied, and Syl laughed again as he shook his head. Out the corner of my eye, I noticed Jaxon approaching us...or rather, his car that I just conveniently happened to be standing next to. I patted Syl on the shoulder. "You should go before the bus leaves you. Gotta talk with West."
Syl nodded. "Good luck." he told me before turning to leave, and then he stopped a moment as if thinking better of it. I watched him as he glanced in the direction of Brent and his cronies and their groupies, before he quickly turned back around. He came forward and suddenly hugged me around the torso. "Thank you." he said softly, his voice small and shy, his movements timid as he quickly let go and took off in a half sprint.
His sudden show of gratitude and affection left me awestruck. And it also invited Jaxon's unwanted teasing.
"Aw, that's adorable." he teased, coming to stand next to me. I rolled my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Whatever, West. You got a moment?"
"Nope." he replied, unlocking the car doors. I arched a brow, growing slightly irritated at how easily he brushed me off, so I moved closer as he got into the driver's seat, and I stood in the way so there was no he could close the door without bashing me with it in the process. Jaxon arched a brow, eyes giving me a once-over as he studied me.
"I want to talk to you."
"Can't it wait?" he replied, then expelled a breath when I shook my head. "Fine, you'll have to come with me then. There's somewhere I have to be and I'm already late."
"Fine." I replied, an irritated edge to my voice.
"Fine." Jaxon mocked in reply. I rolled my eyes at his childish action, but said nothing as I went around to the passenger side and got in. We left the school, and within a few minutes, we were already at the place Jaxon was in such a hurry to get to.
A kindergarten school. The school yard was empty, save for the groundsman disposing of the garbage bags. And at the guard booth, a woman in her late twenties with dark hair, dressed in a light coloured top and dark suit pants, stepped out while she held onto the hand of a little girl who couldn't have been more six. She had dark brown hair like Jaxon and those identical sapphire orbs I was slowly becoming infatuated with.
I watched as Jaxon got out and went over to the two, exchanging a few words with the woman while the little girl clung to his leg. After a moment or two, the woman waved them goodbye and went back into the school, while Jaxon took the girl's backpack and led her over to the car. He opened the door to the back seat and helped her climb inside before tossing her backpack in next to her. He waited for her to buckle up before closing the door.
"Hello." the girl greeted, making me look back at her. I smiled back and returned her greeting. "Are you Jaxy's friend?" she continued, tilting her head slightly in the most adorable manner.
No, I'm not. Not exactly. But I couldn't say that to a child and make things complicated for her to understand.
"Yes, I am." Her smile brightened at that.
"What's your name?" she asked again just as Jaxon got into the driver's seat and shifted the gear into drive. He'd left the engine running. "My name is Jessica. But everybody calls me JJ."
"My name's Asher." I replied, and her smile brightened more than it already was, her blue eyes shining with curious recognition.
"Jaxy talks about you." she said quietly, but even for her young age, I picked up the slightest trace of mischief that laced her voice, as much can be said from the slightly mischievous curl at the corner of her lips. Jaxon stiffened next to me and I slid my gaze over to him. He glanced in his mirror to see the girl in the backseat.
"That's enough, JJ. Quiet down back there." he scolded gently, but firmly. Glancing at JJ over my shoulder, she had a smug grin on her face as she turned to look out the window, and I figured she really must be Jaxon's sister. Her smug grin was identical to his. Even the mischievous twinkle in her sapphire gaze was identical to her brother's when that asshole felt like ticking me off.
JJ obeyed Jaxon's order, though only for a few minutes. And in that space of time, the soft music playing filled the silence before Jaxon's sister decided it was too much, and she needed human interaction.
"Jaxy?" she called sweetly, and I could just hear the amusement in her voice. It made me shake my head that this child who was probably only six years old, was so sweet and adorable yet so cunning. Jaxon didn't give her a verbal response, but their gazes met in the rear view mirror. "Is Asher coming home with us?"
"Um...yeah. We've got school work to do." he lied to her. But JJ seemed to accept that almost as if she knew he lied and was fine with it. Her expression I caught over my shoulder said as much, and it made me wonder just how many times Jaxon had lied to his little sister.
"Will he be staying for dinner?" As if thinking the same, Jaxon and I glanced to each other simultaneously before he scrunched up his nose.
"I don't know...why? Do you want him to stay?" JJ nodded vigorously, hands clasped together.
"I wanna show him my collections!"
Collections?
Jaxon appeared clearly torn, between an aura that said he didn't want me around for long but at the same time, he appeared heartbroken at the thought of disappointing his sister. He glanced to me with pleading eyes when JJ's pleading and begging seemed to become never-ending and appeared close to throwing a temper tantrum.
"It's fine. I'll just let my parents know where I am, so they'll alert the guards." I offered, and JJ celebrated in the backseat as though she'd claimed Olympic glory. I didn't miss the curious glance that Jaxon threw my way at the mention of my parents alerting the guards. And it was something he didn't hesitate to pester me about the moment we arrived at his pack and house, and JJ scampered off to find Hunter, their older brother. His scent was all over the place and strong, which meant he was home, just somewhere in the house.
And JJ decided to find him, leaving me with Jaxon who had jumped onto my case with a moment of hesitation. He poked fun at me and was slowly starting to grind my nerves.
"All that attitude and vulgarity you possess and yet, you still have a curfew?" he teased, even as he led us out onto the patio from the living room. Their patio was spacious, shaded and breezy and not far from the last of three steps, was a large pool, and on the left hand side of the pool, was a large patch of green lawn.
Rolling my eyes, I turned to face him, hip cocked and arms akimbo as I pinned him with the least amused stare I could muster. I arched a brow as he cackled. "Are you done?"
He cackled again, this time louder, still dying over the idea that I have a curfew. I waited as patiently as I could for him to get off his high, my finger thumping against my arm. He let out an exaggerated breath, slumping back against the cushioned chair, one arm draped over the back while he stared up at me, an amused expression on his face and his long legs apart, while he wore that shit-eating grin Sky was so fond of slapping off.
"I don't have a personal curfew. It's for the pack, moron." Almost immediately, his smile dropped, and a slightly judgemental gleam entered his eyes.
"Wow! I knew Marcana's pretty strict, but I never would've guessed you guys were that strict." he retorted, and maybe it was the way he said it, but I couldn't help but feel offended. I felt as though he'd verbally attacked Marcana, and in so doing, attacked me.
"We're not. But when shit gets out of hand, we have to do what's necessary." I retorted truthfully, effectively shutting down any further criticisms he planned to throw up that would further irritate me and entice the idea of punching him dead and just leaving here. As fourth-in-command, defending my pack's honour in words came naturally as it would in physically defending it.
Jaxon tilted his head, sapphire orbs staring at me in a fashion that said he didn't quite understand me. In fact, they seemed to quietly demand an explanation of why, and as if confirming my own thoughts, he spoke a moment later asking why Marcana felt it necessary to have a curfew for all pack members.
And I didn't hesitate to turn the tables around and make him feel like shit.
"Prior to your match-making spree, Sky and Jace were facing issues with Lativa's former alpha. He's dead now, but he was trying to kill both Jace and Sky. He trespassed once, and when he did, a lot of wolves were injured, me included. Ever since then, Marcana's had a general pack curfew." I pinned him with a dry stare. "And then you came and decided to chase after Jace. Security was doubled, and the pack curfew set at an earlier hour to minimize potential casualties if you felt like trespassing and coming after Jace. So, excuse us if we impose an early curfew for our members' protection. That incident might have been almost three weeks ago, but don't think for one second that Marcana trusts you. Hunter, maybe; but not you."
Jaxon glanced away, a flash of hurt flitting across his eyes and a part of me shrivelled at that. I know how it sounded when I said those words, and even though I came here to tell him one thing, part of me just didn't want to let him get away so easily with how much he'd hurt me in the beginning. The indirect rejection, the flirting with others, the smug smirks he threw at me even when he knew how much the things he did hurt me.
And I hated that he made me so torn; so conflicted with myself. I wanted to love him, but at the same time I wanted to hate and punish him. Why was it okay for him to hurt me this way? To say he didn't want me? To flaunt his latest hook-ups in front of me? And smile when he saw the hurt on my face. But that wasn't the worst part about all his hook-ups. He told them about me; or something of me. Because I would catch their smug grins when they were with him, as if saying 'He's mine.'
If it was alright for him to do that to me, his mate, why must I always feel guilty for saying something hurtful to him even if I drown it in sugar?
It wasn't right.
I know it sounded like I didn't trust him. That wasn't true at all. Maybe not all the way, but I do trust him to some extent. At least I knew that when it came to down it, I could count on him to be there for me. He's always been there for even when I cursed him to hell and back.
It's only fair I returned the favour. And it wasn't because Jaxon felt the need to be there for me. He genuinely wanted to be there for me even if he wouldn't admit it. And that's what makes this whole thing mutual. I didn't need to help Jaxon.
I want to help him. I want to be there for him. I want to save him. Because I just cannot stand the self-loathing in his eyes. Just seeing how much he can be disgusted with himself now, it made me sick. It shredded my soul to know he was suffering like this, and it made me wonder how the hell he can live in a pack that claims to love him oh-so-much and not one fucking person had the fucking eyes to see just how damaged he was.
It made me angry beyond comprehension. He's their beloved beta, and not one damned person in this whole fucking pack could see the darkness inside him. And it made me terrified. Not for myself, that I could fail trying to help, or of what I would face. It made me scared for him. He was battling these demons alone.
"I didn't mean it like that-" I began, hoping to explain what I meant, but he held his hand up cutting me off.
"You have every right not to trust me." he replied, locking gazes with me. I shook my head quietly, a tiny smile gracing my lips.
"Maybe. But, as crazy as it sounds, I do trust you. Somewhat."
The confusion displayed itself on his face, clear as day, and it prompted me to plop down onto the chair next to his. I turned slightly so that my body was somewhat angled toward him, and that I could see him better when I explain myself. He turned too, as if sensing that what I'm about to say is as important. Our knees brushed for a moment, the tiny contact sending dull electrical tingles spiralling through my entire leg. It was dull because of the clothes we wore.
If I touched his bare hand with my own, those sparks would be ten times stronger and all the more pleasant.
"You're always there for me. Even when I don't need it, or even if all I do is curse you to hell and back when you help me. Like the other day, when I was beating the shit out of Brent. You didn't even hesitate to jump in front of me, and then knock his ass out cold when he threatened to overstep his boundaries." I explained, and Jaxon cracked a smug smirk at the mention of knocking Brent out. His pride over that small incident, made a small smile unconsciously grace my lips.
"He would've hurt you again. And it makes me really angry when people try to hurt you." He didn't need to look at me, but I heard the truth in his voice, and his sudden honesty made my heart flutter a little. The feeling was mutual, though.
During that cage match between him and Sky, it had become evident to every witness that Sky had snapped when he was taunted about Jace. It became clear that Sky was out for Jaxon's blood. All of it. He was going to kill Jaxon and would have had I not intervened. I was damn near hysterical. I was completely distraught, steadily speeding toward complete devastation when I saw how badly Sky had beaten down Jaxon in a matter on moments.
Saying I wished him dead was one thing. But to witness someone actually doing it, was a whole other nightmare I never wanted to think about again.
"But you didn't need to step in." I placed a hand on my chest to indicate myself. "I could hold my own in a fight."
Jaxon huffed a laughed and nodded his head. "I know." I didn't miss the flash of admiration that flitted through his gaze as he said those words.
"But you've been there for me regardless of what I thought and wanted. When we spoke yesterday, the things you said about yourself truly disturbed me." Jaxon frowned, tilting his head at that almost as if he didn't believe my words. Then again, when have I ever given him a reason to think otherwise?
All I've done is display my hatred of him and wish him all ill wills. If anything, Jaxon would faster believe I would relish in his self-disgust. And I should. Part of me wanted to. But my parents didn't raise a spiteful bitch, and if they knew there was a modicum of me that felt that way, my father would knock my brain inside out.
"Why would it? I haven't done anything to make you care for me." I nodded at that.
"True. But you came to me. You said I deserved an explanation. And I also believe that no one should hate themselves like you do. It's not right." I shook my head lightly to emphasize my point.
"You think so?" he asked, and I nodded. Extending my hand out to him, I offered him a small smile.
"I want to help you get over that. Return the favour. Deal?" He took a moment to mull over what I had said and scrutinize me almost as if believing it was some game. Hey, I can be cruel. But I'm not some spiteful, heartless asshole. Eventually, he nodded lightly, and slapped his palm to mine.
"Deal."