Chapter 13 #2
"You are. His lion chose you the second you walked into the bar, soaking wet and scared and wearing that ridiculous cardigan with cats on it.
" A small smile flickers across Jason's face.
"I've never seen Knox react to anyone the way he reacted to you.
He nearly shifted right there in the bar.
" Jason runs his hands through his hair.
"Look, I know it's fast. I know it doesn't make sense in human terms. A week ago you didn't know any of us existed, and now I'm telling you that a lion shifter has decided you're his forever person. That's insane. I get it."
"It is insane."
"But in shifter terms? Knox is completely gone for you.
And we ruined it—me and Ezra and Silas—by not realizing you didn't understand the difference.
We thought you knew. We thought—" He breaks off, frustrated.
"We thought you were like the others. That it was casual.
That you'd laugh about the drawer and the hookup stories because you knew you were different.
But you didn't know. And we made you feel like you were nothing special, when you're—god, Toby. You're everything to him."
I stare at the TV. Moana is meeting Maui now, dealing with his ego, trying to get him to help her save her island.
"It doesn't change anything," I hear myself say.
"What?"
"Even if that's true—and I'm not saying I believe you—it doesn't change anything.
" I pick at a loose thread on the blanket.
"I'm still just some human who stumbled into his bar.
He's still this gorgeous, dangerous, powerful shifter who could have literally anyone.
Shifters, humans, whoever he wants. Why would he pick me? "
"Because you're you." Jason says it like it's obvious.
"Because you walked into a bar full of predators and asked if you could charge your phone.
Because you didn't run screaming when you found out what we were.
Because you wear cardigans with cartoons on them and read to kids at the library and you deal with Knox without flinching. "
"That doesn't make me special."
"It makes you exactly what he needs." Jason leans closer.
"Knox has spent his whole life being the biggest, scariest thing in the room.
Everyone's afraid of him, even other shifters.
But you—you looked at him and saw a person.
Not a monster. Not a threat. Just Knox. Do you have any idea how rare that is? How much that matters?"
I don't answer. Can't.
"He wants you," Jason says quietly. "Not just for now. Forever. When shifters mate, it's permanent. It's not something we do lightly. And Knox's lion chose you. That's not going to change. That's never going to change."
"We've known each other a week," I whisper.
"Doesn't matter. His lion knows." Jason sits back, giving me space. "Also, your roommate slapped him."
The subject change gives me whiplash. "What?"
"Robin. He came to the bar after he dropped you off this morning. Stormed in, screamed at Knox, slapped him across the face hard enough that we all heard it." Jason's mouth twitches. "Knox just stood there and took it. Didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't defend himself."
I can picture it perfectly—Robin in full protective rage mode, all five-foot-nine of him squaring up against a lion shifter twice his size. "Good."
"Knox could have killed him with one swipe.
Could have broken Robin's hand just by tensing his jaw.
But he didn't. Because Robin was protecting you, and Knox respects that.
" Jason holds my gaze. "Because you matter.
Because hurting someone you love would be hurting you, and Knox would rather let a human slap him in front of his whole pride than do anything that might hurt you. "
We sit in silence for a moment. On screen, Maui is singing about how great he is, how many things he's done, how everyone loves him.
"I need time," I finally say. The words feel heavy in my mouth. "Even if... even if what you're saying is true, I need time to process. I can't just—I can't go from 'I'm nothing special' to 'I'm his forever mate' in the span of one conversation."
"Okay." Jason nods. "That's fair."
"And space. I don't want to see him right now. I don't know if I can—" My voice cracks. I swallow hard. "I don't know if I can look at him without either screaming or crying, and I've done enough crying today."
"I'll tell him."
"And tell him—" I stop. Touch the bite mark on my shoulder through my shirt. It still aches, deeper than the other marks. The one Knox said would scar. "Tell him the marks are fading."
Jason's eyes widen slightly. "Is that a message?"
"He'll know what it means."
The marks are fading. The bruises on my neck, the finger-shaped shadows on my hips, the scratches on my back—they're all yellowing, softening, disappearing. In a few more days there will be no evidence that Knox ever touched me.
Except for this one. The bite on my shoulder. The one that might be permanent.
Jason stands. Hesitates. "For what it's worth, Toby, I've known Knox for ten years.
Watched him go through phases, watched him hook up with more people than I can count, watched him keep everyone at arm's length because that's safer than letting anyone in.
I've never seen him like this about anyone.
Ever." He shoves his hands back in his pockets.
"You're not just another hookup. You're not a novelty or an experiment or an itch to scratch.
You're it for him. The one. And I know that's terrifying, but it's also true. "
I don't say anything. Can't.
"Jason?" I manage finally.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for coming. For explaining." I swallow. "But I still need you to leave."
He nods, no hurt in his expression, just understanding. He heads for the door, then pauses with his hand on the knob.
"We really do like you, you know. The whole pride. Not just because Knox claimed you—because you fit. Because you showed up with thank-you tarts and made us laugh and didn't treat us like we were scary." He opens the door. "Whatever happens with Knox, you're welcome at the bar. Okay?"
Then he's gone, and I'm alone with Disney and my melting ice cream and the mess of my own thoughts.
I pull the blanket up to my chin and stare at the TV without seeing it.
The marks are fading. In a few days, maybe a week, they'll all be gone. The bruises, the scratches, the hickeys—every visible sign that Knox ever called me his. My skin will be blank again. Unmarked. Like none of it ever happened.
I touch the bite on my shoulder. Press against it until it aches.
This one might scar, Knox had said. Permanent. Mine.
At the time, I'd shivered with want. Now I don't know what I feel. The scar will be a reminder, either way. Either a reminder of the best night of my life, or a reminder of how stupid I was to think it meant something.
Or maybe both.
Maybe it can be both.
On TV, Moana is figuring out who she's meant to be. Finding her way back to herself after everything fell apart.
I pull the blankets over my head and try not to cry again.
I mostly succeed.