“He gave me the option.Some would say it was the cleaner solution.”My wolf snarled at the words even as I spoke them.The very idea of harming her was abhorrent, impossible, against every instinct that made me what I was.“A human who knows nothing of our world, who has no pack protection, who is leverage against his Vor.The pragmatic choice.”
“And you chose marriage.”
“I chose you.”
Silence stretched between us.The dawn light had strengthened, warm gold now instead of gray, falling across the bed in slanted lines that caught the dust motes floating in the air.She sat very still, her bandaged hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on my face.Through the bond, her emotions churned like a storm barely contained.
“But before I chose marriage,” I said, “I had to be punished.For allowing the attachment to form in the first place.For being weak enough to want you.”
I pulled down the collar of my shirt, exposing the scars that ran across my shoulder and down my chest.Claw marks, not human wounds.The raised silver lines that would never fully fade, permanent reminders carved into my flesh by wolf fangs and wolf claws.She had seen them before, that night when she asked about my punishment, but she had not known the full context.Had not understood what they represented.
“The Pakhan’s enforcers did this.Wolf claws, not human hands.”I let her look, let her trace the marks with her eyes.“The marks are permanent.A reminder of what my weakness cost.A warning of what happens when a wolf forgets his place.”
Her gaze traced the old scars, then stopped.Narrowed.
“Those are healed.”Her voice was careful, measured.“But these…” She reached out, her fingers hovering over my chest where three angry red lines were still knitting themselves together.Two cuts complete, one aborted halfway through.They would scar eventually.For now they were fresh enough to still ache beneath her almost-touch.“These are new, Raphael.”
I had hoped she would not notice.I should have known better.My mate saw everything.
“The gala.”I did not try to hide it.No more secrets.“When I defied Max in front of the pack.He summoned me for my second punishment.Konstantin beat me first, for embarrassing the Pakhan in front of witnesses.Then Max pulled out a knife.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes.Horror followed close behind.“You were being tortured when Michael took me.”
“He was carving his initial into my chest when I felt your terror through the bond.”I held her gaze, letting her see the memory in my eyes.“Halfway through the third cut, I lost you through the bond.Your fear vanished like someone had snuffed out a candle.I thought you were dead.I broke free of the enforcer holding me before Max could finish.”
“That is why you came covered in blood.”She whispered it, memory clicking into place.“I thought it was from fighting.But it was your blood.From this.”
“I walked out in the middle of my punishment.Left Max standing there with a bloody knife in his hand.”My wolf rumbled at the memory, satisfaction and defiance mingled together.“He issued the kill order before I reached my car.I did not care.You were in danger.Nothing else mattered.”
Her hand reached for me then, her fingers brushing the scars, old and new, the price I had paid twice for loving her.Her touch burned like fire, like salvation, like the only thing that mattered in this world.
“This is what it cost to keep you alive, Lena.”My voice broke on her name.“The first time, before I ever walked into that courthouse and made you my wife.And the second time, when I walked out of that punishment and made you my enemy’s target.”
Through the bond, her emotions shifted.Horror at the violence.Grief for my pain.And underneath it all, something warmer, something like understanding trying to break through.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The question I had dreaded most.
“Because if you knew I saved your life, you would feel obligated.”The admission scraped out of me like broken glass being pulled from a wound.“I needed you to choose me freely.Not from gratitude, not from debt, but because you wanted to.Because I was worth choosing on my own merits, not because I had bought your loyalty with my blood.”
“So you lied to me.”Her voice was steady now, almost too steady.“For months.”
“I did.”
“You let me hate you.Let me believe you married me as some kind of power play, some extension of the contract, another way to control me.”
“I did.”
“You watched me rage and grieve and struggle, and you never said a word about the fact that you had taken a beating to save my life.”
“No.”I held her gaze, forcing myself not to look away from the anger building in her eyes, bright and sharp as a blade.“I told myself it was protection.That you could not handle the truth, that knowing would only complicate things.But that was a lie I told myself to feel better about the choice I was making.”
“Which was?”
“To decide FOR you.”The words tasted like poison, but they were the truth.The truth I had been avoiding for months, the truth I had hidden behind noble intentions and protective instincts.“I took your choice away, Lena.I decided that you could not handle the information, that I knew better than you what you needed to know.I treated you as someone to protect, not someone to trust.”
Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.The impact of my words traveled through the bond, the pain of them landing like physical blows.This was worse than the anger.This was understanding.
