Chapter 7

JAX

After I finished brushing Hayley’s hair, I could tell she was worn out. So, I helped her settle down in my bed.

For the first hour, she lay there, eyes wide open, watching me. But eventually, her eyes closed and her heartbeat steadied.

I sat on the window seat, just taking in the sight of my beautiful mate. It hurt to know how much she had suffered. She didn’t realize I knew about her rape, and I wasn’t going to push her to talk about it.

She had been through enough. I knew there was more to her story, but I was willing to wait. I had thought I wouldn’t have a mate, but here I was.

The Moon Goddess had gifted me with the best possible soulmate. I would cherish her until my last breath.

The thought of someone hurting such a fragile, delicate human saddened me. But then I realized, those experiences had shaped her into who she was.

The scars on her body were beautiful, and I would remind her of that every day.

I mind-linked Linda, the manager of the clothing store on the pack grounds, and asked her to gather a selection of women’s clothes in size XXS and leave them outside the pack house door.

As much as I loved the idea of Hayley wearing my clothes forever, I knew she might not be comfortable with it.

I didn’t take my eyes off Hayley until the sunrise peeked through the window. I got up and closed the curtains, not wanting to wake her.

For the first time, I noticed my shirt was covered in dirt from when I carried Hayley to my room.

Sighing, I headed into my walk-in closet and picked out a black muscle tee, some grey joggers, and a clean pair of boxers.

I took the quickest shower possible, not wanting to wake my mate. I changed in the bathroom, thinking it wouldn’t be a good idea for her to see me walking out in just a towel.

I brushed my hair and returned to my bedroom to find my mate awake, staring at a photo of me and my little sister Ella on my bedside table.

I moved closer to let her know I was in the room. When she turned to look at me, her eyes were filled with sadness. Did she think Ella was my girlfriend?

To clear up any confusion, I said, “That’s my little sister, Ella. She’s twenty.” Relief washed over her face. She let out a small “oh,” and looked down, biting her bottom lip.

I walked over to her and crouched beside the bed. She looked at me as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

I realized she needed to eat. “Would you like anything to eat?” I asked. She quickly shook her head.

To reassure her, I said, “You can come down to the kitchen with me, and watch.” After a moment, she nodded.

I helped her stand and we started walking to the door. I mind-linked the entire pack to stay away from the pack house until later that night, not wanting to scare her.

I mind-linked Dimitri, asking if he could take over for me for the next couple of days. He happily agreed.

We made our way down the stairs. Even though she struggled and her legs nearly gave out several times, she insisted on doing it on her own.

We entered the kitchen and she took in every detail. To bring her back from her thoughts, I said, “I’m going to make you a slice of toast, but you only have to eat half of it.”

She nodded and thanked me.

I walked over to the toaster and plugged it in. As I reached for the bread, Hayley tried to see what I was doing.

When I turned to look at her, she quickly stepped back and looked down.

“It’s okay. You can look,” I said. Then an idea struck me. “Why don’t you sit on the counter, so you can see what I’m doing. How does that sound?”

She looked up at me through her eyelashes and shuffled her feet nervously. “Yes, please,” she said, softly.

She tried to hop onto the counter, but her arms were too weak to lift her. I walked over to her, gently grabbed her waist, and lifted her onto the counter.

Our eyes locked. I couldn’t look away. She was my everything.

She was the first to break the gaze and looked out the window. I took that as my cue to continue making her food. As I took the slice of bread out of the packet, she turned her attention back to me.

I put the bread in the toaster and pressed the switch. She watched, fascinated by the toaster.

I turned to make a cup of peppermint tea. I added a bit of cold water to the cup, so it wouldn’t burn her mouth.

Once the tea was ready, I took a sip and handed it to her. She sipped it delicately.

I warned her that the toaster would make a loud noise when the bread popped up, and it did just that.

She jumped a little, but not as much as she would have if I hadn’t warned her.

I took the butter out of the fridge and spread it on the toast with a knife. She watched the knife warily.

After I cut the toast in half, I put the knife in the sink, far away from us. She relaxed immediately.

I put the plate next to her and handed her a piece. She looked at it and ran her fingers over the crumbs, completely fascinated. After a few more strokes, she looked at me.

“It’s okay, you can eat it,” I said. I picked up the other half and took a big bite, finishing half of it. I swallowed, and then she took a small bite from the corner of her piece.

She seemed to enjoy it, quickly taking another bite. I warned her to eat slowly, otherwise, she might feel sick. She finished her piece in about five minutes and felt full.

It was a clear sign of how malnourished she was. She took the last sip of her tea and put the cup back on the counter.

I remember I need to discuss the therapy sessions with her. I help her off the kitchen counter and guide her into the living room.

I figure the living room is a good spot. She’s felt confined enough in her life, and I don’t want her to feel stuck in one room.

I guide her to the couch and turn on the TV, picking something more suitable for her. I decide on ~Despicable Me~.

After I put the remote back on the couch, she picks it up and examines it. I glance at her and see her engrossed in the movie.

About fifteen minutes later, she seems relaxed, so I decide to bring up the therapy sessions.

“Hayley?” She turns to look at me. “I was chatting with Tom, and he suggested you might benefit from seeing a therapist. It could help you process and cope with everything you’ve been through.

“It might also help your memory return. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I think it could be helpful. What do you think?” I ask.

She nervously twiddles her fingers and chews on her lower lip. She looks up at me and says, “Yes, please.”

A broad smile spreads across my face. “I’m glad to hear that, mate.”

At the word mate, her eyes start to shine. “You’re my mate?” She asks me. She must be getting comfortable with me. “I am,” I respond.

I can see her thinking, and she starts to raise her hand to my face but then drops it back into her lap. I give her a reassuring smile and tell her, “It’s okay. You can touch me.”

Slowly, she lifts her hand and gently places it on my cheek. She notices the scar and starts to stroke it with her thumb.

“You have… a scar too. Like me,” she says, struggling to form a complete sentence. I make a mental note to remind myself that she will need help learning to speak properly.

“I do,” is my lame response. My mind goes blank as her thumb continues to stroke my face, sending a tingling sensation throughout my body. I close my eyes in pure bliss.

She then traces her fingers all over my face—my eyebrows, my forehead, which is unusually relaxed, down my nose, over my lips, and back to my cheek.

When I open my eyes, she is looking back at me. I reach up to her hand, which is resting on my cheek, and stroke it.

I ask her, “Do you know about mates?”

She nods.

“I just want you to know, we can go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with. We can take things slow. I’ll always be here for you.

“I’ll always protect you, and I’ll always cherish you. I’ll stick with you, no matter what,” I say, sincerely.

She sheds a few tears, which fall onto the couch beneath us. I don’t move to wipe them away, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

She drops her hand back into her lap and turns back to the TV. I can tell my words meant a lot to her, and I’ll keep repeating them until she believes me…