Zoe was sitting cross-legged on her bed, methodically reviewing every moment of their intense conversation in her head, her heart still racing uncontrollably from the raw emotional depth of their interaction. The weight of what she had just done - actually telling someone about her rape - felt simultaneously liberating and absolutely terrifying as the words continued to echo through the chambers of her mind, reverberating with an intensity that made her chest tighten. That primal growl that had erupted from Jackson's throat had initially sent waves of fear coursing through her, making shivers dance down her spine like icy fingers tracing an invisible path along her vertebrae. His immediate shift to protector mode had been striking - those strong, capable arms wrapping around her like an impenetrable shield against the world's darkness. Yet, his body was shaking so violently that the tremors reverberated through every fiber of her being, each quiver a testament to the depth of his emotional response. She kept asking him if he was okay, worry etching deep lines across her forehead as she watched him struggle with an internal battle she couldn't fully comprehend; finally, he had gathered her into his lap with such careful tenderness that it nearly broke her heart, burying his face deep into the curve of her neck where his warm, uneven breath fanned across her sensitive skin in erratic bursts that spoke of barely contained fury.
"Zoe, my wolf is on edge, and I am fighting for control," he had said, his voice rough and raw with barely contained emotion. Each word seemed to cost him tremendous effort to maintain his composure.
The sudden stillness that followed was striking - he stopped moving, his muscled body becoming rigid against hers, taut with tension like a bowstring pulled to its breaking point. Though Zoe was confused by this abrupt change, something deep within her recognized the rightness of being held in his protective embrace, as if some primal part of her soul understood what her conscious mind could not yet grasp.
He must have sensed her swirling confusion because he answered the unspoken questions tumbling through her mind as if he could read her thoughts. His voice took on a gentler quality, though still clearly strained with effort, and each word was carefully chosen to provide comfort and understanding.
"Your scent and being close to me calm my wolf," he had explained, pulling her closer against his chest as if to demonstrate the truth of his words. His powerful arms created a cocoon of safety around her trembling form.
She consciously decided to surrender to the moment, snuggling deeper into his embrace and finding unexpected solace in his heart's steady, rhythmic beating against her back, each thump a reassuring reminder of his solid presence. Those few minutes stretched into what felt like a peaceful slice of eternity, time seeming to slow down and wrap around them like a protective blanket until he finally stood up, cradling her in his powerful arms with such care that it made her breath catch in her throat. He carried her to the elevator with measured steps that spoke of careful restraint and then to her room, setting her down on the bed with such exquisite gentleness that her heart fluttered. Then he turned to her, his eyes intense with emotion, pools of amber that seemed to hold both fury and tenderness in their depths, and said,
"I am not angry at you; I am angry at myself and that man. Please know that none of this is your fault," his words carried the weight of absolute conviction, brooking no argument.
"You did nothing wrong, but I must let my wolf run. He needs this release," he continued, his voice growing rougher with each word as if the wolf within was fighting to break free.
"He is agitated right now, and the only way for me to get him to cool off is to run him. The forest calls to us both," he finished his words, carrying an underlying current of primal energy that spoke of his supernatural nature.
"I will be back, and we will talk; I can have Dustin get your sister if you want some company while I'm gone," he offered, his voice carrying a gentle undertone of concern despite the apparent strain of maintaining control.
"No," she responded quickly, the words tumbling out before she could even process them. An instinctive certainty gripped her that facing anyone else at that moment would be unbearable. The thought of confronting another person, even her sister, while her emotions were raw and exposed felt overwhelming.
The prospect of taking a long, hot bath and allowing herself time to process everything that had transpired seemed far more appealing to her overwrought senses. He had nodded, deep understanding reflecting in his expressive amber eyes, and though it was visibly difficult for him, he had left the room, his reluctance evident in every measured step he took toward the door. Each movement seemed to cost him considerable effort, as if invisible chains were trying to hold him back, keeping him tethered to her presence.
Now, sitting here alone with her thoughts, she has meticulously reviewed their conversation at least five times, dissecting every word exchanged, gentle touch shared, and nuanced reaction displayed. Despite his explicit reassurance, she couldn't thoroughly shake the nagging feeling that she had somehow done something wrong, even though her rational mind understood perfectly well that this wasn't the case. His intensely protective reaction had been simultaneously frightening and deeply comforting—a paradox that perfectly encapsulated the complexity of their entire interaction. The way his wolf responded to her revelation spoke volumes about his character and the depth of his connection to her, even if she didn't fully understand all the implications yet. The memory of his trembling body, fighting for control while still maintaining such gentle care with her, created a confusing mix of emotions that she was still trying to sort through. His insistence on running his wolf to regain control, rather than risking any loss of composure around her, demonstrated a level of consideration that touched her deeply. Even in his clearly agitated state, his primary concern had remained her comfort and wellbeing, a realization that sent warmth through her chest despite the heaviness of the situation.
She finally gathered her strength and rose from the bed, her legs slightly unsteady as she made her way to the bathroom with slow, deliberate steps. The promise of a warm bath beckoned her, offering the possibility of washing away some of the emotional heaviness that clung to her shoulders like an invisible cloak. As she filled the deep porcelain tub, watching the steaming water rise and create delicate swirls of vapor that danced in the soft bathroom light, she added a generous amount of lavender-scented bubble bath, its soothing aroma already beginning to work its magic on her frayed nerves. The familiar scent reminded her of peaceful summer evenings and gentle breezes, offering a small measure of comfort in its simplicity.
Sinking into the water's warm embrace, she fully submerged herself, feeling the gentle caress of the bubbles against her skin like a thousand tiny kisses. Time seemed to lose all meaning as she soaked, watching absently as her fingers and toes gradually wrinkled like tiny prunes, the warm water working to unknot the tension in her muscles one by one. The lavender scent enveloped her like a comforting blanket, its calming properties slowly but surely easing some of the anxiety that had taken residence in her chest. The steam rising from the water created a dreamy haze in the bathroom, making everything feel slightly surreal as if she had stepped into a peaceful sanctuary where the weight of her revelations couldn't quite reach her. Each breath she took felt more straightforward than the last, the combination of warm water and soothing aromatherapy gradually helping to restore a sense of balance to her tumultuous emotions.
When the water finally began to cool, she reluctantly emerged from her sanctuary. She dried herself off with one of the impossibly soft towels, the plush fabric feeling like clouds against her skin as she gently patted herself dry. Then, she saw something she had overlooked entirely before - a large, plush grey robe hanging invitingly on the back of the bathroom door. The fabric looked incredibly cozy, its soft fibers catching the gentle bathroom light, making it seem almost ethereal, practically calling out to be worn. Though she wasn't sure who it belonged to, something magnetic and inexplicable compelled her to reach for it, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the luxurious material. As she wrapped the soft fabric around her body, she was immediately enveloped in Jackson's distinctive scent - that intoxicating mixture of pine needles, wild forest air, and something unmistakably him. The familiar scent worked like an instant balm on her troubled spirit, creating a cocoon of safety and protection that made her feel inexplicably secure like his arms wrapped around her in a gentle embrace.
Just as she emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair creating intricate moisture patterns on her shoulders and the robe's collar like delicate lace designs, she heard a gentle but firm knock at the door. Her heart skipped a beat, performing an erratic dance in her chest as her mind immediately jumped to the possibility that Jackson might have contacted her sister despite her earlier request. The thought made her stomach clench uncomfortably, muscles tightening with anxiety - she wasn't prepared to face her sister's inevitable questions and well-meaning but overwhelming concern that would surely pour forth like a flood.
"Come in," she called out, consciously trying to keep her voice steady despite the inner turmoil that threatened to betray her composure.
The door opened to reveal Beta Cole, his tall frame filling the doorway as he carefully balanced a laden tray containing enough food to feed several people. His expression perfectly blended professional courtesy and genuine warmth as he entered the room with measured steps, his movements precise and deliberate, like those of someone accustomed to maintaining control in all situations.
"You missed dinner, and the alpha asked me to bring you food," he explained, carefully setting the heavily laden tray down on the nearby table with the practiced ease of someone who had performed this service countless times before. "He was quite insistent that you eat something substantial. In fact, he specifically detailed what should be included to ensure you receive proper nutrition. The alpha was particularly adamant about the balance of proteins and vegetables."
"Is he okay?" The question burst from her lips before she could stop it. Her concern for Jackson was evident in every syllable, and her voice trembled slightly with barely contained worry.
Beta Cole's expression softened slightly as he replied, his features relaxing into something more personal and less formal. "Yes, he will be okay. He just needs some time to process everything. His wolf side requires physical release to maintain balance. It's a natural part of our nature, especially when dealing with strong emotions."
"He wanted me to tell you that he is deeply sorry for leaving so abruptly and will return as soon as he can," Beta Cole continued, his voice gentle but firm, carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "He also emphasized multiple times that you should eat well. His concern for your wellbeing was quite apparent in every instruction he gave, in every detail he specified for your comfort."
As he turned to leave, his movements deliberate and controlled, he paused at the threshold. Turning back to face her, his stoic expression transformed into genuine sincerity, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding of years of service and loyalty to his alpha.
Touched deeply by Jackson's thoughtful consideration and Beta Cole's heartfelt words of support, she could only manage a quiet nod in response, words failing to adequately express the mixture of gratitude and emotion inside her. As the door closed behind him with a soft click, she turned her attention to the generously prepared meal, her heart feeling inexplicably lighter despite the emotional weight of the evening's events. The careful arrangement of the food on the tray, clearly chosen with her needs in mind, served as a tangible reminder of Jackson's care for her, even in his absence.
As she gazed down at the thoughtfully prepared meal, she couldn't help but feel a growing warmth in her heart for Jackson. The past few days had been a revelation, each moment spent with him highlighting the stark contrast between his genuine care and Jared's cold indifference. Where Jared had been dismissive and controlling, Jackson showed a gentle consideration that touched her deeply. Even now, in his absence, his thoughtfulness was evident in every carefully selected dish before her. With each passing moment, they shared, Jackson slowly but surely dismantled the protective barriers she had constructed around her heart, his patient kindness creating hairline cracks in her carefully maintained defenses. Through these small fissures, rays of hope began to shine, illuminating the possibility of a more profound connection she had never thought possible.