She sits on the side of my bed and dries herself with the towel. I make a mental note to ask one of the girls for a hairbrush because Addison’s hair is way longer than anything I’ve ever seen.
When I see her on my bed, with nothing but a towel wrapped around her, my wolf goes crazy. He scratches at me inside, begging for me to close the small gap of distance between the two of us and lay claim to her. He wants me to sink my teeth into her neck and bond with her.
I want to as well. All I’ve wanted over the years was to find my mate. Seeing my siblings pair off with their mates, as happy as ever, has only reinforced the need I felt over the years.
Now I’m standing here in front of my mate, someone who I know should feel the same strong connection that I do. Yet she doesn’t understand it. Or maybe she doesn’t want to accept it. The idea of that stings, and I have to force my mind away from it.
Something is seriously wrong here, and I have to get to the bottom of it. For Addison.
A knock on the door catches my attention, and Addison nearly jumps to her feet, clutching the towel tied around her. She stumbles in front of me, and I gently place my hands on her shoulders to lower her back to the bed.
“It’s fine, Addison,” I murmur. “You’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you. It’s probably one of my siblings.”
“Sibling?” Addison whispers under her breath as I walk to the door.
When I open the door, I find Tara with a large serving tray covered with food. “I figured she might be hungry.”
I open the door wider, and Tara stands in the doorway tentatively, offering Addison a soft smile.
“Addison, this is my sister, Tara,” I say, moving aside so Tara can walk into the room.
Addison watches with a hint of apprehension in her eyes as Tara approaches the bed and sets the tray on top. Tara doesn’t say anything, clearly not wanting to push. Instead, her bright green eyes meet Addison’s with a warmth she’s always effortlessly portrayed.
I watch Addison, hoping that her walls might come crumbling down when she sees it, but they don’t. It’s going to take a lot more than soup and bread to get her to trust us.
“Thank you,” I whisper to Tara as she leaves, closing the door behind her.
Addison’s eyes move to the steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup and the thick slice of sourdough bread that I have no doubt is one of Tara’s homemade recipes.
“Tara’s a really good cook,” I say as I walk over to the bed and sit down beside Addison. Her mouth practically waters as she looks at the tray, but she doesn’t move toward it. “Want to try a bite? She makes the best bread ever.”
Addison looks at me, shaking her head. “I don’t know what’s in it.”
It makes sense that she would worry. Whatever happened to her, wherever she was, she probably couldn’t trust a lot of things. So I pull the tray closer to us and grab the spoon myself, making sure I pile a big portion of broth and noodles onto it before taking a bite.
I might be a little over the top with my satisfied moan, but it is very flavorful. Tara knows how to turn something bland into something delicious with ease.
Next, I tear off a portion of the bread and chew that, watching Addison with my eyebrows raised. “Would I have eaten if it were drugged?”
She contemplates for a minute before tentatively reaching for the spoon and sinking it into the soup. She takes a cautious first sip of the broth, then her eyes widen as the flavor hits her. She picks up the bowl and devours it. She practically shovels bites into her mouth like it’s the first meal she’s ever eaten.
I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.
I have so many questions, but how many times can I ask her where she’s come from without driving both of us crazy? Whenever I ask a question, I can feel the internal panic radiating from her. Whatever happened to her, she’s not ready to talk about it.
But I need to know more.
Addison sinks her teeth into the sourdough bread and lets out a tiny moan, satisfied with the flavor.
“Do you have any family that I can contact? Anyone who would want to know where you are, who could help you?” I ask her.
The idea of her saying yes and contacting someone who will take her away from me is heart-wrenching, but I have to do what’s best for her. Now that I know who my mate is, nothing will keep me away from her. But right now, I would let her go if it meant helping her.
Addison just shakes her head. Her chewing slows, and she sets the bread back on the tray, grabbing the cup of water and sipping it.
“I don’t have a family.” Her voice is low and somber, and something about the look in her eyes makes my heart break for her. “I don’t remember anything about before.”
“Before? What do you mean?”
