I have to give her the opportunity to mourn the bond.
It’s only after being away from her did I realize just how intense that tie really is.
Every second, every breath, every thought.
They all revolve around her.
There’s no way I could shake it if I wanted to. Knowing how strong it is changes my perspective on the years of confusion I felt watching her suffer at the memories of the monster she killed.
So no matter how violently I want to claim her, I can wait.
I’ll reforge her bonds to me.
Chapter 17 - Jenny
I know I shouldbe grateful to Hudson for tracking me down to rescue me.
And not force me to return to that dreadful compound.
But my body aches with the loss of Lash like I’m withdrawing from a potent narcotic.
He was morphine to me.
Toxic and numbing, yet reached a hidden part of me that brought out an unmatched euphoria.
It’s perplexing how my mind tells me this is the right path while my heart cries in solitude.
Sleep is where I lose control.
I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve woken in Hud’s patient arms with tears streaming down my face.
I can’t stop missing my beast.
There was a hole in my heart, torn and scarred from my past, that Lash somehow filled.
Now it’s a new weeping wound, festering in sorrow over an unfulfilled bond.
Yet, Hudson perseveres. He’s found me clothes and has kept me fed and warm, all while continuing to move us northwest towards my son.
I should love him for what he’s done. Except I still carry a shard of wariness for the years that he stood by and watched me suffer.
“Here, Jen.” Hudson hands me a pink and green apple, then takes a bite of his own.
The crisp snap rockets me back to the moment when Lash popped his teeth shut, promising never to hurt me.
Then made me scream out in ecstasy.
Hudson’s chest rumbles after his sharp inhale.
I can’t help but notice him drift a few feet away, upwind.
“Sorry,” I mumble before taking a sample of the sweet fruit.
“It doesn’t bother me, Jen. I only hope that one day it’s for me.” His amber eyes remain focused ahead of us, carefully not turning towards me.
I know I’d see pain in them.
It’s hard to remember sometimes what he gave up to save me, when I’m so mired in blaming him.
