Jax’s body arches, as though he’s having a fit.
Now an anguished cry does escape my lips. I try to run to Jax, but Otis restrains me with gentle, strong arms. He whispers in my ear, “It’s going to be okay, babe. Trust Traggar.”
I bite my lip to stop from whimpering, and suddenly, thankfully, Jax’s body relaxes. His head falls to one side. Color flushes his cheeks, and he lets out a sound.
It’s a snore. Followed by another.
I almost laugh with relief.
Traggar turns and nods, smiles. “All good. He’ll come round with a terrible headache, and likely think he’s drunk too much grappa. Until he remembers what really happened.”
“Thank the gods,” Otis murmurs, and hugs me. I feel my lower lip wobbling and bite it to stop myself crying.
“He’s going to be fine, I promise,” Traggar’s deep voice reassures.
Now that I’m a little more relaxed, I take in the finer details of his appearance. He is rugged and handsome, older than I first thought, and his muscular neck and arms are covered in tattoos. The one on his left bicep holds my gaze. It’s a ring of fire. “Jax has that tattoo,” I whisper hoarsely.
“It’s our pack’s coat of arms,” The wolfman says.
“Jax told me he wanted to cover the scar. I thought he got it done in the Periphery.”
Traggar shakes his head. “After Jax returned from hospital, we initiated him into the Trojan pack. He received the tattoo at the ceremony.”
“I wish he’d told me.” I sigh.
Traggar’s smile is kind. “If he’d told you before, it could have endangered you more.”
“It’s just… I always worried about who could have done him so much harm.”
“Jax messed with the wrong pack. The Bradens. They have a history of crime and are known to be aggressive. When I rescued him, he’d already lost a lot of blood—he was close to death. My remit was to remove the chip from his neck and turn him, but it went wrong because of the mauling he suffered. I had no choicebut to send him back to Sparkle. Which is how you found him lying on the road in the Periphery three years ago.”
“Yes, I remember some soldier in the Periphery contacted me.” I shudder, remembering getting the call to urgently collect my broken, bleeding brother. From the very same road we’ve just escaped. How ironic.
“It wasn’t a soldier. It was I who phoned you that night.”
“You!”
Traggar nods. “Your brother needed to live, and I had to make sure he did.”
I rub my forehead. “So you mean, even werewolves can die?”
“We have superhuman strength and longevity, but we are not gods. If mortally injured, yes, we can die, particularly if other traumas are sustained while being turned from human to wolf.”
“Oh, I see.” I wipe a hand over my brows, frowning as I try to take it all in. “Just for the record, I’d rather remain human, if that’s okay with you.”
Traggar laughs. “Rest assured, little human, you are safe. Jax needed to escape the dark magic imposed on him by humans, and as a werewolf he is free to answer his true calling. But there is no reason to fear we will turn you.”
“Phew. That’s a relief,” I say.
“Now, you must eat before you head back to level one.”
Suddenly Otis’s stomach growls, and mine follows suit.
“Thank you.” Otis grins sheepishly. “Now Jax is out of danger, I’m fucking starving.”
I realize I am weak from hunger too. I lean against Otis and feel his steadying presence as he holds me close.
At least we’ve all survived the ordeal.
