HAVEN
I awoke wrapped in a cocoon of soothing warmth, surrounded by the scent of Wesley’s cologne—stronger and sweeter than I’d smelt before. I nestled further into the warmth, pressing my back into Wesley’s solid chest, and pulling his arm tighter around my body.
The safety and security I felt from being close to him settled my heart indescribably. His skin against mine set little fireworks off everywhere we touched. Those tiny sparks spread pleasure and warmth throughout not just my body but my entire being. My soul.
It was strange. His touch had always felt different to me, but after the previous night, that sensation was even more pronounced.
I tensed, and my eyes popped open as everything from the night before came crashing into me all at once. The club. Lennox attacking me. My panic attack when I woke up in an unfamiliar hospital.
And Wesley. Wesley coming to my side when I was hurt. Wesley staying by my side and comforting me while the doctor and nurses stitched me up.
And Wesley taking me in his arms and bringing me to his house so I didn’t have to stay in a place that reminded me of one of the worst days of my life.
But he’d also ignored me for almost an entire week. He’d given me the space I’d asked for, yes, but then, when I was ready to talk, he’d given me the cold shoulder. Ghosted me. For real.
I swallowed against the tightness and burning in my throat, blinking back the wetness pooling in my eyes. I fought an internal war within my heart as I lay ensconced in Wesley’s arms in his bed.
I wanted to stay there, to sink further into Wesley’s body and take refuge in the safe harbor that was his presence. But his warmth, the tingles from his touch, and the overpowering scent of his cologne muddled my thoughts and toyed with my resolve to yell at him. And I needed to speak my piece. To give him hell.
With newfound determination, I lifted his arm off my body and sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed so I could use the restroom. Almost instantly, I felt empty and cold and alone, as if something connected his touch and presence to my moods.
Which was preposterous.
While in the bathroom, I avoided my reflection. I didn’t need a mirror to tell me how awful I looked. I could feel it. Feel the dirt and dried blood on my body, and see the dried blood splattered on the ends of my hair that had been removed from its high ponytail at some point. It would need to be washed, but I knew the doctor needed to clear me for that first.
“Haven?” Wesley called from his bedroom, and I felt a flutter of fear and confusion that wasn’t my own, there and then gone again as quick as a wink.
“I’m in the bathroom,” I called back, shaking off the remnants of the weird emotions that weren’t my own.
“Are you all right?”
I rolled my eyes but bit back my sass. “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.”
I stood in front of the door and shut my eyes as I readied myself. I needed to stand strong. Firm. I couldn’t let his chocolate brown eyes or his handsome face sway me.
I opened the door to find him pacing at the foot of the bed, his thumbnail between his teeth. His sweatpants were slung low across his hips, showing off all the lines and muscles of his abdomen. The muscles I had run my hands over and felt pressed against me as he made love to me over and over that night we had shared.
I had to tear my eyes away because that was a trap I could fall into all too easily.
His head swiveled to me, and I almost softened again at the dark circles under his eyes, showing how much sleep he had lost because he was worried about me. His hair was messy from the bed and from his hands running through it.
And he was still sexy as sin, even in his exhaustion.
He froze in place, and I stared at him, stuck and unsure what to do or say next. Everything I planned on telling him, every word I had rehearsed, felt inadequate. How could I ever make him understand what he had yet again done to me by ignoring me?
“Could you get me some pants?” I asked, tugging at the hem of his T- shirt.
I looked down at the floor as I cursed myself. Could you get me some pants? Really? That’s what my mouth decided to say?
“Yeah, I’ll—I’ll grab some of Maddie’s,” he muttered, blowing out a breath and rushing out of the room.
I released my own sigh and rubbed at my forehead, walking back to the bed and climbing under the fluffy blankets. I’d still put the pants on, but the comfort and warmth of Wesley’s bed were like a safety net for me. And I was still sore and tired and feeling weak.
Wes came back with an armful of jeans, pajama pants, and leggings and placed them on the bed near me.
“I wasn’t sure what kind of pants you wanted, so I brought all of them,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.
I gave him a halfhearted smile and grabbed the leggings, slipping them on while still keeping my body covered with his white comforter. He returned the smile, then moved the clothes to his dresser, stacking them on top of it before turning to look at me again.
Our eyes locked together, and all the fight went out of me again. I was just
—empty. And tired. So, so tired.
“I think I’m going to sleep some more,” I whispered, my lip quivering without my permission.
I leaned back against the pillows and pulled the comforter up. I tucked it under my chin and closed my eyes so I could go back to sleep and not have to think about any of the events of the week.
But Wesley had other plans. “Haven, I really think we should—”
Thankfully, the doorbell cut him off. I heard him growl and mutter something under his breath, and I bit back my laugh as he left the room.
I was mad at him, sure, but it was hilarious that when he tried to insist on having a conversation I wasn’t ready to have, something interrupted him.
And now that I knew the truth about what he was, his growling just made me laugh.
“Dr. Russo is here to check on you,” he grumbled, and I turned to find him scowling in the doorway, not pleased with the disruption.
I sat up again as Dr. Russo entered, his smiling face reminiscent of his daughter’s. Or, I assumed, his daughter since they shared a last name.
“Nice to see you awake, Luna,” he said, nodding his head at me.
“Haven,” I corrected, frowning in confusion. “My name is Haven.”
Dr. Russo glanced back at Wes, but Wes kept glowering, with his arms crossed, still agitated by the intrusion. I couldn’t help the little thrill that went through me at his annoyance.
“Right, well, like I said, I’m happy to see you in better spirits than last night,” he said.
I gave him a tight smile. “Thank you.”
“Would you like Wesley to stay or step out?”
“He can stay,” I muttered, and Wes relaxed a little, leaning against the wall by the door.
I was still mad at him, but I didn’t want to be alone with the doctor, either. I didn’t know him, and Wesley’s presence was still calming me a little. Not as much as it did when he was next to me and touching or holding me, but just knowing he was there helped me feel safe.
“I’m going to check your wound and see if we need to replace the bandage or anything. And I’m going to go over the results of your blood tests with you,” Dr. Russo said as he sat on the bed with me.
“What blood tests?” I asked.
“We wanted to check for any infection. And we wanted to check if you were pregnant. It’s a standard procedure for emergency situations.”
My eyes widened, and my heart skipped a beat. Wesley’s face paled, and that sensation of emotions that didn’t belong to me hit me again, stronger than before.
I avoided Wesley’s eyes, though. It embarrassed me that we didn’t even talk about condoms or birth control or anything before we slept together. Not that it mattered since I was protected, but still. It should have been a conversation we had.
“It was negative,” the doctor added.
“I know. I’m on birth control,” I muttered. “The implant,” I clarified.
Relief flashed in Wesley’s eyes, and he relaxed, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. And even though I wasn’t ready for kids, seeing his relief that I wasn’t pregnant cut deep. Was the thought of being tied to me by sharing a kid really that awful?
I glared at him, and his eyes widened and his face paled even more. “No, I-I’m thinking about your career, about how you said your ex wanted to just turn you into a baby maker, and how you didn’t want that. But I want to have kids with you at some point. I mean, if you want to have kids. If you don’t want to have kids, that’s fine too. I mean—”
Dr. Russo cleared his throat and raised a brow at Wesley, who blushed and looked down at his feet.
I turned away from Wes and looked towards the window of his sitting area, wishing the blinds were open so I could see out to the lake, the forest, and the mountains. I kept my gaze on that side of the room as the doctor moved the neck of my shirt and peeled the bandages off. My mouth twitched with the hint of laughter at Wesley’s rambling, but I didn’t want him to know he amused me.
“Interesting,” Dr. Russo said as he examined the wound.
“What?” Wes asked with a strained voice.
“The wound is healing faster than I expected,” he replied. “I knew your presence would speed up the process since she’s your mate, but I wasn’t expecting it to heal this quickly.”
I turned my head to look down at the wound as best I could. Sure enough, the stitches had already dissolved, and all that was left were raised pink lines across my left collarbone and chest.
I lifted my right hand and grazed my fingertips over each line, feeling how they rose and fell as they passed over every spot where Lennox’s lycan had bitten into me.
“The scars will stay, though?” Wesley asked.
I looked up at him, and his face was pained as he watched me examine my wounds. A tiny wave of guilt that wasn’t mine flashed through me. His guilt, I realized. I was feeling his emotions.
I lowered my eyes back to the scars, a bit smug that he felt guilty. He should feel guilty for ignoring me and for what happened to me because of that.
“The mate bond sped her healing, but it’s not a magic eraser,” Dr. Russo said. “She still will heal like a human, not a shifter,” he added.
There was that word again. Mate. Wesley said it the night before when he came into the hospital room and saw my wound. And the doctor had said it twice since he’d been in Wesley’s room. And Nolan had mentioned mating that day when Wesley showed me his lycan.
I pursed my lips a little and furrowed my brow, trying to make sense of it all, trying to figure out what it meant. I looked between Wesley and Dr. Russo, watching as Wes shuffled his feet and avoided my gaze.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s a mate?”
Wes winced and rubbed the back of his neck, still avoiding looking at me. I fixed my stare on him, boring it into the side of his face, daring him to look at me.
The tension in the room ratcheted up at least ten notches, and Dr. Russo swiveled his head between the two of us a few times before he stood to leave.
“Well, everything looks to be in good shape, Lu… Haven,” he said as he walked to the door. “Your soreness should go away by the end of the day, and you should have a full range of motion in your shoulder by then. You can resume all your normal activities. Just have Wesley contact me if you have any questions or concerns.”
He walked out of the bedroom, and a few seconds later, I heard the front door open and close behind him. Then, silence as I continued to glare at Wesley.
If he thought I would let him keep something else a secret, let him lie to me, or ignore me, he was gravely mistaken. I would not fall into that trap of his again. I would not let his warm eyes, his devilish smirk, and the heat from his touch lull me into a false sense of security.
No. I wanted answers. I was tired and empty before, but embers of fury had filled that vacuum, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until I had what I wanted. The truth. All of it.
And then I would give him hell.
He moved his gaze to mine, his jaw set, and I said, “Start talking. Now.”
