Page 13 of Awakening His Mate

I scream the word in my head, but there is nothing but silence.

I can hear you, Jackson.

He lets out a ragged, tortured breath. “Fuck. I hate this.”

There’s nothing I can do but watch as his head lowers, pressing against my knees. As his fingers ghost over my skin, his touch igniting my body.

Please hear me.

He doesn’t move, his warm breath scalding even through the material of my jeans. “I can’t hold on to you, Dove. I feel like you’re slipping further and further away from me.”

I don’t know what this means, but when he lifts his head, I see the frustration and the hurt lining his face. I want desperately to reach out and offer him comfort. I hate that he’s suffering.

My vision winks out and panic clutches me, and suddenly I’m looking at him again, but we’re no longer in the cabin. We’re somewhere else. He’s still Jackson, but he looks younger, despite the hair covering his jaw.

I peer around the soupy darkness, the moon overhead casting milky streaks across the landscape. Cold infuses my bones, the kind that burrows deep into every cell.

He’s sitting opposite me, dirt smeared on his cheeks, and his eyes are bright, alert, and fearful.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, even though it’s not. “We’ll be okay.”

The baying of wolves fills the darkness, sending a shard of panic through me. Jackson swallows hard before he stands, grabbing both of my hands to pull me up. “Whatever happens, you run. Don’t come back for me.”

I jolt out of the vision, memory, or whatever this was, and a gasp escapes my mouth. These snapshots of my past have been coming back like this for days now.

Jackson sucks in a breath, as if his lungs have been starved of air for minutes. The way his eyes squeeze shut, as if he is in pain, hurts me too.

“What… what was that?” He gasps the words. “Are these memories of our past?”

He saw it too.

Jackson grabs my face. Concern lines his face as my blood rushes through my veins. “Dammit, please talk to me.” His touch on my cheeks makes electricity spark through every inch of my body. “Fuck, I wish you could say something. I wish you knew how much I need you. I can’t do this alone.”

The desperation in his words guts me. I’m not sure if he realizes the connection we have, but my wolf whimpers, wanting to do as he commands.

My heart breaks as a lone tear streaks down his cheek, and I want to wipe it away, but I can only watch as it reaches his chin before he swipes at it.

“It's not fair,” he says. “It’s not meant to be like this.” He stands, brushing the knees of his jeans as if they are covered in dirt, and gives me a tentative smile. “I hope you’re hungry.”

The flatness of his tone makes my stomach twist, and all I can do is remain still while he returns to the stove, as if the moment between us never happened. I wish I could tell him how hard I’m fighting to get back to him. He has no idea how hard I’m trying.

He finishes cooking and plates up the meal before he brings a bowl on a tray to me. It looks like some kind of stew, and it smells so good. My stomach rumbles, something I don’t seem to be able to control, which makes his lips quirk at the corners. I like it when he smiles. It reminds me that I haven’t completely destroyed him.

“Can you eat?”

I will my hand to move, but it doesn't. I don’t always know if my body is going to respond. He sits next to me and lifts the spoon like a parent feeding a baby.

“Hester’s going to wake the boy,” he says. “Took her a little time to work out what you did to knock him out, but she’s pretty confident she can undo it.” He presses the spoon to my closed mouth with a sigh.

Open.

I try to focus enough to move, but nothing happens. Jackson waits for a moment, but when it becomes clear I’m not going to be able to eat, he puts the spoon in the bowl, sliding it onto the table. “We’ll try again later, okay?” He grabs his own bowl from the kitchen before coming back to sit with me. I wish he knew how much I love his cooking and how much I want to share a meal with him.

“The girls should be able to create a spell to hold him while he’s conscious, so he can’t use his magic on us.”

He rambles on, talking to me as if I’m able to answer. The others, except for Roux, either ignore me or treat me with confusion and even suspicion. I can’t blame them for that. I understand how dangerous I truly am and that I threaten the illusion of peace they have created here. However, Jackson doesn’t make me feel like I’m nothing.

“I don’t know what it is about this kid. We should just kill him as soon as we have our answers. He’s dangerous. But…” He blows out a breath. “What if he’s just like you, Dove? Trying to escape whatever torment the Order put him through? What if they’re all like that? We have to stop killing these people. And I know what you’d say.” He stops for a moment to take a spoonful of his food. “If it’s kill or be killed, we should take them down, but they could be victims too.”

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