Page 66 of Protector

Is this who she really is, behind the ice and stone?

He breathes in the stale air and picks up the warmth of her scent underneath it—layers upon layers, and much fresher than in her childhood bedroom, though it’s mixed with harsh bleach and a touch of her parents’ scents—and a whiff of a stranger. A beta male.

Jacob follows the faint trail to one of the windows she’s opened and looks out onto the ledge. It would be easy for a half-skilled burglar to perch out there. To watch her and wait for the perfect moment to grab her.

His skin itches with the urge to punch someone, and he pulls his head back inside before the instincts to bring pain to the people behind her kidnapping take over. Her father’s the man responsible for what was done to her, even if the trauma she endured wasn’t his intent. Nothing good will come from allowing himself to dwell on that.

She’s waiting by the sofa, and when Jacob turns around to face her, she holds out a hand.

“Please.” She sounds like a little girl. It’s wholly unsettling, but he’s across the floor before he’s even aware he’s decided to move, one hand wrapping around hers, the other cupping her cheek.

“What happened in there?” He frowns down at his female, unable to take the clenching in his gut at that vulnerable, distraught look on her pretty features. “Who did this?”

The memory of the blond alpha flicks back to the forefront of his mind—her ex? Washethe reason for the tears threatening to spill from her dark lashes? He’s not prepared for the seething stab of jealousy at the thought.

His mate shudders and looks away, but he catches her by the chin and forces her eyes back up to his. “Adelaide? Tell me who to hurt.”

She chokes out a small sound that’s halfway to a laugh before her face contorts and tears spill down her cheeks. The wretched sobs that follow are like stab wounds to his gut.

“Adelaide,” he grunts as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her to his chest, the thrashing bond lodged there shrieking for closeness.

“Harder,” she hiccups.

He obeys, tightening his grip on her body until she’s plastered against him like a second skin. And then she just… clings to him andcries.

Every cell in his body is tight with the need to take away whatever is causing his mate such agony andmake this stop,but there’s nothing he can do to stem her tears. Nothing except hold her, until eventually, some long minutes later, her sobs finally soften and then quiet.

Jacob keeps his arms tight around her until she whispers, “You can hurt me.”

This again? He frowns down at her tear-streaked face. “I’ve told you, I am not going to.”

She grimaces, a twist of her mouth that’s meant to be a smile but doesn’t manage, and looks between them where his erection presses insistently against her stomach. “You want to.”

He sighs. “I have no control over that. You’re my mate and you’re in my arms.”

She shakes her head and pulls away until he releases his grip on her body, but before she takes a step back, she grabs his hand in hers. “Please. I need you to.”

He doesn’t respond, and she gives him a sad little smile and turns around, tugging on his hand. He lets her lead him through her apartment and into the bedroom, where she releases his hand and steps over to the double bed. Back turned, she begins undoing the buttons on her shirt until it spills to the floor by her feet.

The silky chemise underneath follows, and when she reaches up behind her to unhook her bra, he sucks in a slow breath. His skin is tight and hot, and this right here? This is all he’s ever craved. In the shameful nights alone in her lab, this is what he’d fantasize about: stripping off the layers of fabric until she was truly bared for him. Exposed to the core of her being.

She pulls the elastic band from her ponytail, and her long, dark hair cascades down her naked back as she grabs the waistband of her skirt.

Yes, this is the moment he’s longed for since he opened his eyes to this new existence.

Only it’s also… not.

THIRTY-THREE

JACOB

Pulled by the ache in his chest where their bond pulses with oddly muted pain, he crosses the floor and wraps his arms around her from behind before she can rid herself of the skirt. She’s soft against him, and cold. He pulls her closer and rubs his nose against the side of her head, inhaling her scent.

She stiffens at his touch against her bared skin, fear flittering through their connection.

“If you’re afraid of me, why do you ask me to hurt you?” he murmurs into her hair.

“I’m not… afraid ofyou.”She hesitates, still stiff in his grasp, then continues pushing at her skirt until it pools on top of her discarded shirt and bra, leaving her in nothing but woolen tights and black heels.

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