Alone

Jaxon rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm and steady.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” he murmured.

I nodded, tears pricking the corners of my eyes—not from fear, but from the strange, dizzying sensation of finally feeling seen.

The second their footsteps faded into the hallway, the thick tension in the air didn’t ease—it only tightened, like a coil ready to snap. I stayed pressed against Jaxon’s solid chest, my cheek still resting where his shirt met my skin, each breath of his warming me in a way that was confusing and intoxicating all at once.

His arms didn’t loosen; instead, they seemed to draw me closer, as if trying to shield me from a world that had been nothing but cruel and unforgiving. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear was like a lifeline—something real and unshakable in the sea of everything else I’d been tossed into.

My fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, gripping just enough to keep myself anchored because I felt like I might dissolve if I let go.

He smelled like something wild—earthy and clean—with a hint of something sharp and electric that sent tiny shocks through my skin every time his breath brushed mine. It was a scent I couldn’t name, but it settled deep inside me like it belonged.

His voice broke through the quiet, low and rough, almost a growl.

“Do you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”

I swallowed hard. My heart hammered against my ribs, and the warmth pooling low in my belly twisted into something sharper, more desperate.

“No,” I whispered, my voice barely steady. “But I want to.”

His lips brushed my temple in a featherlight touch that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

“There’s more to this than you see,” he murmured, voice thick with something fierce—warning, maybe? Or maybe it was something else. Something he didn’t want me to understand yet.

I wanted to ask him to explain. To tell me everything.

But the words caught in my throat, tangled in a mix of fear and hope I couldn’t quite untangle.

The way he looked at me—it was like he was trying to hold back a storm, a wildness barely contained behind the calm surface.

My breath hitched, heart tightening as I felt the pull between us growing heavier, harder to ignore.

Jaxon’s hand slid down from my waist to rest on my hip, his fingers warm and firm, grounding me even as they set me aflame.

He didn’t move away—didn’t pull back—but the restraint in his eyes told me he was fighting a battle inside himself.

I met his gaze, searching for answers in the depths of his dark eyes, but found only shadows and something unspoken.

A sudden, almost animalistic flicker passed through him, something primal and fierce that made my skin tingle with equal parts fear and desire.

It was in the way his nostrils flared slightly, the subtle twitch of his jaw as if he wanted to say something dangerous but held himself back.

The air between us crackled, heavy with everything we weren’t saying.

For a moment, I thought I could hear my own heartbeat loud enough to drown out the world.

My fingers itched to trace the lines of his face, to memorize every detail—the way his brow furrowed when he was tense, the curve of his lips when he smiled, the way his eyes darkened in the shadows.

But I didn’t dare.

Instead, I whispered, “What are you hiding?”

His gaze dropped to my lips for a brief, charged second before flicking back up, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Things you’re not ready for,” he said quietly, voice husky.

I bit my lower lip, trying to steady the heat rushing through me.

“I want to be ready,” I said. “I want to know.”

He exhaled slowly, a breath that sounded like it carried the weight of a thousand secrets.

For a heartbeat, I thought he would tell me everything. The truth buried beneath the lies and shadows.

But then his jaw tightened, and he took a small step back, breaking the closeness between us like a dam holding back a flood.

“I’m not the man you think I am,” he said, voice low and strained. “Not yet.”

That line—it felt like a promise and a warning all at once.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and forced a shaky smile.

“Maybe I don’t want the man you are now. Maybe I want the man you could be.”

He blinked, surprise flickering across his features, quickly replaced by that guarded expression I knew too well.

“I’m not good at letting people in,” he confessed. “Especially not someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” The words escaped my lips before I could stop them.

His dark eyes searched mine, and for a moment, it felt like he was trying to read every secret I had buried inside.

“You’re different,” he said quietly. “More than I expected. More than I should want.”

My heart hammered so hard I thought it might shatter.

It was more than attraction. More than the stolen moments, the heated touches, the unspoken promises. It was something deeper, something ancient that neither of us could fully explain.

I reached out, brushing my fingers along the edge of his jaw, feeling the faintest scruff beneath my touch.

His breath hitched, and his eyes closed briefly, savoring the contact.

“Don’t,” he warned softly, voice shaking. “Not yet.”

I nodded, even though every part of me screamed to throw caution to the wind.

There was a war inside him, raging between duty and desire, control and surrender.

And I was caught in the middle, drawn to the fire even as I feared getting burned.

Suddenly, the sharp buzz of my phone broke the spell. The screen lit up with Lucas’s name.

Jaxon’s eyes flicked to it, then back to mine, dark and stormy.

“Go,” he said, his voice barely more than a growl.

I nodded, stepping back slowly as he held out his hand—an unspoken invitation and a warning all at once.

I took it, fingers trembling as our skin met, electricity sparking between us.

As I pulled away to answer Lucas’s call, the weight of everything hung heavy in the air.

Jaxon’s presence lingered like a promise and a question unanswered.

And deep inside me, something fierce and wild stirred—a feeling I couldn’t deny.

I wasn’t just his. I was his mate.

Whether I was ready or not.