He still hasn’t moved.
Finally, Jax clears his throat. “He’s fine. He’s just…curious about you.”
Which I suppose makes sense. He’s only ever seen me through Jax’s eyes, and I’m not entirely sure what he’s seen or how much.
I look at Jax over my shoulder, and my gaze catches on his furrowed brow, then tightened jaw.
“I’m going to be okay,” I say, and I mean it. I will be okay. I will not die today.
“I’m more than positive that’ll be the case.” He lifts me by the waist, hoisting me atop Ajja, and my fingers grip the fur lining his neck as Jax settles behind me, pulling me tight against his chest. “Are you ready?” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear and my memory goes back to when that same mouth was panting my name, his breaths falling upon me in heavy gasps.
“Yes,” I manage, settling myself into the crook of his shoulder.
Ajja sprints forward and Jax grips me with one hand while his other remains firmly grasped around the long hairs of Ajja’s back. Wind slaps my face as the wolf pushes forward, faster and faster, until a vibrant white light blinds my vision.
Jax.
And then suddenly, the light disappears, and Jax has taken both meandAjja back to my apartment in Village 28.
I’m home.
The tall brick building with the rusted fire escape that leads straight up to my window. The narrow alley that’s more dust than dirt.
I’m home.
I slide from Ajja’s back, my boots hitting the ground with a soft thud. Jax is close behind, watching me carefully, but my stomach is far more settled than I thought it’d be.
“How did you know?” I ask because I never told him where I live, I never told him which street, which apartment.
“When I delivered that letter to your parents,” he starts, his eyes clinging to mine in a way that makes my heart pound, “I wanted to give it to them in person, I wanted to be able totellthem that you were okay.”
My heart swells. “So you searched for them?Foundthem?” And I don’t think a day will go by where I won’t ache for this man. Crave every piece of the heart he rarely shows to others but constantly shows to me.
“I did.”
I want to kiss him, but I don’t. I don’t because I don’t know exactly where we stand, and I don’t think I want to know, not until my trial is over.
His eyes flicker to my mouth, as if he’s thinking the same thing, but then he says, “I have to go back for Theo. He wants to be here, cheering you on.” A smirk plays at his lips.
I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “Of course, he does.”
“But I’ll leave you with good company until I return.”
He looks behind me, over my shoulder and toward—
I spin.
My mother and father.
Clinging to each other and releasing shaky breaths. My mother’s hand is pressed to her mouth, eyes watering. My father’s shoulders rise and fall, but then they both open their arms, and I crash into them, burying myself in my father’s chest, gripping my mother’s sleeve and pulling her close.
Oh, how I’ve missed them.
“My beautiful, fearless, strong-willed girl,” my father murmurs, his voice thick with tears. His calloused hand cups my face, his thumb brushing away the dampness on my cheek. “I knew you would survive.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, breathing them in, committing this moment to memory. “And I won’t ever allow that to not be the case.”
My mother laughs, a sob mixed with a smile. She tucks my hair behind my ear.
