Want to be hers.
Chapter
Fifty-Five
IVY
Cherry blossoms fall around us like we're in some kind of fairy tale, not standing outside a memory care facility where Wraith is about to face his demons. But regardless of where we are, there's something about the way the pink petals catch in his dark hair that makes my heart squeeze.
He's signing something, but the movements are hesitant and choppy, like what he's telling me is going to cost him everything.
W-A-N-T... Y-O-U... T-O... B-E... M-Y...
He stops. His blue eyes above the mask are swimming with so much fear and hope that I can barely breathe. His hand pauses in the air between us before dropping to his side. I want to reach for him, to tell him he doesn't have to be afraid, but I know he needs to do this his way.
His hand rises again.
G-I-R-L.
My heart soars but the anxiety in his gaze and posture fucking destroys me. Like he thinks there's any universe where I'd say no. Like there's any chance I wouldn't want him.
"Yes," I say immediately so he doesn't torture himself waiting. "Absolutely yes."
The relief that washes over him is so intense I feel it in my own chest. His broad shoulders drop, and the breath he's been holding escapes in a rush that I can hear even through his mask.
I rise up on my tiptoes because even leaning forward to sign to me, he's still a freaking giant. I expect to kiss his forehead or maybe his nose through the mask, but something pulls me to press my lips against the fabric covering his mouth instead. The gaiter is soft and worn, and I can feel the warmth of his breath through it, quick and unsteady like he's forgotten how to breathe properly.
His hands find my waist, so gentle despite their size. Those scarred, powerful hands that could do so much damage hold me like I'm made of spun glass. He pulls me closer, carefully, and lifts me against him until my feet leave the ground and our foreheads touch.
Gods, this feeling. This moment. After months of running, of hiding, of being afraid of every shadow…
In this alpha’s arms, I feel like I'm home.
The automatic doors of the facility whoosh open, shattering our bubble. Reality crashes back in hard. I feel every muscle in Wraith's body go rigid as he straightens to his full height and gently sets me back on my feet. The soft alpha who just asked me to be his girl vanishes, replaced by the silent giant everyone fears.
But I know better.
I squeeze his hand. "It's okay," I whisper. “I’m right here with you.”
He cups my face in one massive palm, rough thumb brushing over my cheekbone with impossible gentleness, then taps his chin with his other hand.
Thank you.
The receptionist barely looks at me while Wraith handles the check-in. When she asks for his ID, I catch the way he hesitates, glancing at me. I immediately turn to study the fish tank in the corner, pretending to be fascinated by the obviously fake coral. I understand what he’s worried about without him having to ask. He doesn't want me to see the picture on his license.
"I'll need to see your ID too, miss."
My blood turns to ice as I look up. She doesn't look like the typical hockey fan—she has the stern, droopy face of someone who'd be bored on a roller coaster, even if she looks pale and visibly shaken after seeing Wraith’s ID, which lights fire in my veins—but my instincts still flare up with instinctive danger alarms. My hand moves toward my pocket, but Wraith's already scribbling on the notepad.
She's with me.He pauses, then writes,My girlfriend.
The word sits there on the paper, bold and certain, and warmth blooms in my chest despite my anxiety.
"Oh, that's fine then. If she’s with an alpha, she doesn't need separate clearance. Just don't let her wander off on her own."
Wraith's eyes narrow at the casual discrimination, but when his flinty eyes flick to me and I give him a subtle shake of my head that saysdon't take the bait,he heaves a sigh of unmasked irritation and rolls his eyes so hard I can practically hear it. The receptionist glares after him, lips pursed, as Wraith joins me by the hall.
"Ready?" I ask him, taking his hand again.
