Page 71 of Forbidden Mischief
He wanted me broken and beaten, to feel like I had nothing left. He wanted me to beg for my life so he could be the hero to give it back to me.
But I didn’t, not once.
Not that I didn’t want to, because I did. I wanted to live, I wanted to fight.
If I asked him for mercy, he wouldn’t have given it to me. He would have kept me locked up where he could put me through more of his bullshit conversion mentality.
I’m such a fool for not giving Zayne the benefit of the doubt. I should have known he'd come for me. That he wouldn’t just let me die.
I knew in my heart and soul that he was on his way. The closer he got, the more the will to hold on took over me.
And then he was there like an avenging angel.
I've never seen anything like him and his father using their magic.
Zayne was so brave and powerful, so fucking strong. Is it wrong of me to say it was pretty damn hot watching him go all beast mode?
It’s early in the morning, the sun hasn’t risen yet.
I’ve been awake for an hour now, unable to go back to sleep, too restless to even try.
Zayne’s head is on my chest where he lays cuddled up to my side.
Playing with his hair, I watch him sleep, unable to look away. I almost lost him forever. More like, he almost lost me.
The idea of leaving him alone, to have to go on without me, makes my stomach turn. The loss of a mate is a pain much greater than what I went through back at the pit and I never want him to have to experience that.
I don’t want to leave him, but I don’t think I can sit still any longer.
The wolf in me is howling to get out. I’m too tense. I need to shift and run, stretch out my muscles and burn off some energy.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper against the top of his head before pressing a kiss to his dark, silky locks.
Carefully, I maneuver him off me. He lets out a grumbling sound before snuggling into the pillow I replace myself with.
With another kiss to the side of his head and a quick inhale of his scent to settle me, I leave the room in only my boxers.
When I got home, I was a mess of blood and sweat. Zayne helped me shower because I was too weak to do it to myself.
It took everything in me not to break at the tenderness of his care. We didn’t talk much apart from telling one another we loved each other. It wasn’t the time for conversation.
By the time I was out and dried off, I was already starting to feel better than before.
Still, I was sore and so fucking tired.
I barely got my boxers on before I crashed in bed and fell asleep with Zayne refusing to leave my side.
Now, as I head out into the backyard, I’m practically healed.
I wouldn’t want to get into any fights anytime soon, but I’m well enough to shift and go for a run.
As soon as I’m in my wolf form, I’m off.
Every slap of my paws against the cool forest ground feels freeing. The wind against my fur, the strong smells of the earth around me. It’s all settling. Safe. Right.
By the time I make it back to the house, I feel like my old self. Physically, at least.
Breaking through the tree line, I halt when I look toward the back door, and find Zayne there.
