Page 18 of Fated Protector

"But how do you know that? How do you know it wasn’t real?"

I sigh in exasperation. "Because you were there. And you did this thing with your hand and my hand. And it was…it was not something you and I would do."

Now he's gone from grave, to scared, to outright shock. He stands so fast that he knocks over the chair next to us, and it falls to the floor with a dissonant crash. "What did we do with our hands?"

"Nothing like that!" I say, eyes widening. "Just like putting our hands on our chests. It was silly."

"Tell me exactly what we did," he says, his jaw ticking and his nostrils splayed.

I don't understand why he needs to know, but he seems so upset that I feel compelled to calm him. "You put my hand on your chest. And then you put your hand on my chest.”

He stumbles backward, tripping over the chair leg and bumping the table. This is clearly not his most graceful moment. Books cascade off their respective piles into a mess in the middle of the table. "I assume I spoke in this dream?"

"Yes, you said –"

"You are mine, and I am yours." He fills in, and my jaw drops. He stares at me, eyes darting around my face as if the answer to everything is somehowright there. I wish he would share whatever he is panicking about. Then he turns on his heel and heads out of the bookstore. "Stay here. You're safe here. But I have to go. I'll be back later." He nearly runs into the door frame in his haste to leave.

I stare after him, completely confused for what feels like the millionth time this week. What the hell just happened?

* * *

Jack doesn't returnto the bookstore for several hours. When he does, his auburn hair is windswept, and he smells a bit like diesel oil. He must've been on his motorcycle. He doesn't meet my eyes, only saying, “You need to get some sleep. The apartment isn't as protected as the store, but Sasha put up a few shielding spells. I'll stay with you, and you’ll be safe enough.”

He says nothing about the earlier incident. I’m not sure now is the time to bring it back up in case he decides he needs another motorcycle tour of the city. I follow him up the creaky stairs to the small apartment. He stops as we enter the living room and kitchenette, staring at the sofa.

"Have you been sleeping on the couch?" he asks, gesturing at the folded blanket and pillows.

"I…I couldn't sleep in her room." I look down at the floor, ashamed of my silly cowardice, but he takes my chin in his hand. He tilts my face until our eyes meet, and a lump rises in my throat at the sadness I see reflected back at me. It matches my own.

"It's okay, princess," he says, thumb stroking my skin. "I understand. Sleeping on the couch is just fine." He goes to the couch and shakes out the folded blanket. "I'll make your bed. Why don't you go shower and get ready?"

"Where will you stay?" I ask. Sasha has no guest room, and it seems he feels the same way about sleeping in her bedroom.

He goes into Sasha's room and comes out with a folded brown cot. "I may have crashed here a few times before. Sasha bought the cot for me."

I want to ask him more about his confusing relationship with Sasha, but it feels like every brain cell is on high alert. Between his peculiar reaction earlier, the chaotic events of the past day, and that awful, awful dream, I just want to go to sleep and forget everything.

We get ready for bed in silence, and once I am tucked into my makeshift bed on the couch, he sets his cot up on the floor next to me. It almost feels like we’re at a kid’s sleepover if it weren't for the fear and sadness in my heart.

"Thank you, Jack," I whisper into the dark apartment.

He stirs, the cot squeaking under his movements. "What for?"

I rack my brain for the right words, but only one will work. "Everything."

There's a long silence, long enough that I think I've offended him in some way. Then he sighs, the sound almost tender. "You're welcome, princess. Now go to sleep.”

CHAPTER11

JACK

The smell of bacon and eggs is the first thing I notice when my eyes blink open. Outside, the sun peeks through the lace curtains of the apartment.Holy shit.I slept past six am. The world is upside down.

Not only did I sleep past six a.m., when I’m usually wide awake and already deep into a cup of coffee, but I slept right through Anna waking up, clattering around the kitchen, and making what promises to be a delicious breakfast. This isn’t me. Nothing happens around me without me being alert to it in every way possible. I must be going insane.

Is this always what happens when someone meets their Mate? Because I'd prefer to go back to sanity, please and thank you.

I don’t think Anna has noticed that I'm awake yet. She hums a tuneless song to herself, flipping eggs with a spatula. The first thought in my mind isadorable. Fuck. I'm a sap already. I've seen how my pack members act when they find their Mates: crazy old fools, the lot of them. One minute, they’re the best fighters in the Southern United States, and the next, they're mooning after someone who is their ‘sweet baboo’ and writing poems that are the worst crap I've ever heard. Sure, once the Mate bond is sealed, things return to normal, but until then, they are useless flower-carrying, chocolate-bearing idiots.

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