Chapter 28 – JAX
JAX
I've been pacing the basement for hours. The chains drag behind me with each turn, metal scraping concrete. The broken silver shackles are still locked around my wrists, cutting deeper into flesh that won't heal properly until they're off.
My wolf has been raging, replaying every second of her on her knees before us. And how she walked away.
I reach out across our tentative bond, making sure she’s still in the building. She is, but as I focus on the thin tethers that stretch between us, I don’t like the feelings I’m getting.
My heartbeat picks up, all thoughts of apologies, promises, and choosing the right words are gone from my mind.
Something's wrong.
I stop mid-stride. Not pain. Something else. Pressure building in my chest.
My wolf stirs. Mate.
She's fine, I tell him. Sleeping in the clinic. There’s no way Dean would have let her go back to the cabin by herself.
But the feeling gets worse. My wolf paces in my skull, agitated.
Go to her, my wolf demands.
No. She told us to think. To decide. We're doing what she said.
The pressure sharpens. My wolf slams against my control, and this time, I pay attention. This isn't just restlessness. Something is really wrong.
She could be in danger.
I take the stairs, three at a time, fighting my wolf for every step. He wants to run full out, shift and race through the house, but I force him to stay human.
The silver shackles burn with each movement, the metal toxic to our kind.
My wrists are swollen, skin blistered where the silver touches.
Blood trails down my hands, making my grip on the railing slippery.
But I couldn’t bring myself to take them off, choosing to endure the pain as some kind of penance for not being the wolf my mate deserves.
The kitchen door swings open as I reach the top. Jamie emerges carrying a tray of coffee mugs. Her eyes go wide when she sees me, shackled and wearing blood-stained scrubs.
"Jax? What the hell is going on? Dean’s been trying to mind link you…"
I brush past without answering. No time. The pressure in my chest is building to something close to panic. My wolf claws at my control, demanding we move faster. Whatever’s going down, Camille doesn’t like it. That’s all I need to know.
The main hallway stretches endlessly. I stick to the walls, avoiding the central corridor where early risers gather. They stare as I pass, having mind-link conversations about what a state I’m in and what on earth I’ve gotten myself into now.
Racing forward, I pass a group of wolves too engrossed in their gossiping to sense me coming.
"...never seen Dean that angry..."
"...Williams had it coming..."
"...wonder what will happen to his son now..."
Their voices fade as they spot me, pressing back against the walls to let me pass.
The clinic is close now. That sense of wrongness intensifies with each step, my wolf more agitated by the second. By the time I near the clinic door, we're in complete agreement, our mate needs us.
Male voices filter through the door, coming from the room with my unmarked mate in it.
As her discomfort intensifies, my claws extend in response, tips pressing through my fingernails.
I press my ear against the wall beside the door, forcing myself to listen before charging in.
My scent is all over the clinic. It will probably buy me a few seconds of eavesdropping before they realise I’m actually here.
"Camille, you need to think about this." Zane's voice carries that lecturing tone. "I can scent you've been together, but his wolf is dangerous. More dangerous than you realize. I knew it the second I saw him."
My hands curl into fists. Fresh blood wells around the shackles as my claws dig into my palms.
"He might seem in control now, or that he’s not that way around you," Zane continues, and I hear his boots pace across linoleum. "But he has a history. Unpredictable. Borderline feral. There's a reason Dean keeps him away from inter-pack functions."
Through the wall, I hear movement. Someone pacing. And I can sense the worry underneath her calm facade.
Zane isn’t letting up. “I’m not just saying this because of what he did to my father.
” A sigh. "He's broken, Camille. Years of beatings, almost dying at his father's hands, and seeing Maya, his sister, almost killed... it’s left him unstable.
I've seen his medical files. It’s a miracle he survived.
The fact he lived makes him strong, but it also makes him unpredictable.
A wild animal that might turn on anyone, even those trying to help him. "
My teeth lengthen fully to fangs, and I clench my jaw hard to keep from snarling. Blood fills my mouth.
Then the other wolf speaks. Smooth voice. Charming. Or so he thinks. I’d probably say smarmy and condescending. Raven. The wolf from the lake. The one who stares at her everywhere she goes.
"Zane's right, Cammy." The endearment is casual, possessive, and I want to rip his tongue out for daring to speak it. "Remember that rogue you tried to rehabilitate? Nearly tore your throat out.”
Camille’s heart rate spikes. That comment struck a chord with her, and I frown. They’re from the same pack?
“Dad always said you were too selfless to be an enforcer.”
Is he suggesting that being kind makes her bad at job? If she doesn’t punch him, I will.
"That was different," Camille's voice is tight. “I was young and stupid.”
Raven’s wolf bristles, not liking something about Camille’s remark.
"But was it different?" His footsteps cross the room, getting closer to her, and I crack my neck, ready to go in there and do damage if he dares to touch her. "You have a saviour complex, Cammy. Always have. But some wolves can't be saved. And this one..."
Camille groans. "Raven, I’m not talking about my love life with you… of all people. It’s none of your business. Either of you."
The growl builds in my chest before I can stop it, vibrating through the floorboards, as I shoulder through the door and register the room in snapshots. Zane by the far wall, Camille on the exam bed, her arms folded across her torso defensively.
And him.
Raven. I assess him instantly as an opponent.
Tall, athletic build. Dark hair that’s perfectly styled.
Aristocratic features that probably charm most females.
His enforcer uniform of black combat trousers and tight T-shirt is pristine, emphasizing his physique.
Everything about him screams privilege and authority.
But it's his positioning that sends my wolf into hunting mode. He's standing between me and Camille, blocking my path to my mate. One hand rests on the exam table, my table, where I treated her, like he owns the place. Like he belongs here. With her.
His gaze travels down her body with slow deliberation. The thin nightgown clings to her curves, made nearly transparent by the harsh overhead lights. He's not even trying to hide his hunger. His eyes linger everywhere they shouldn't before he turns to face me with a smug smile on his face.
For a man who’s been trying to convince her I’m dangerous, he either doesn’t believe it, or he’s not very smart.
Camille shifts on the bed, her shoulders curling inward to make herself smaller. She’s exhausted, and too tired to be dealing with this bullshit, being ganged up on by two men who think they know what’s good for her better than she does.
I see her throat work as she swallows, see the way her fingers grip her own arms. She's uncomfortable, feeling cornered.
“What the fuck are you doing in my clinic?” I growl. “Bothering my patient.”
He scoffs, still not having the sense to create some space between him and Camille. “It’s not your clinic.”
The room blurs.
“I think you’ll find that it is,” I hiss through gritted teeth, attempting to cling to the last remnants of control. “And you can’t just saunter in and bother Camille while she’s recovering.”
But he’s too fucking stupid to heed my warning.
“You’re okay, aren’t you Cammy?” He lifts a hand and brushes the back of one finger along her cheek.
She leans back, recoiling from his touch, eyes wide as her attention shifts back to me.
Dread. She knows what’s coming next.
One second, I'm in the doorway, and the next, my hand closes around his throat, lifting and slamming him into the wall in one motion. The plaster cracks under the impact. His feet kick uselessly, six inches off the ground.
"Fuck." Zane moves quickly, but Camille is faster.
She puts herself between Zane and me, one hand out to stop him. "Don't. Zane, don't interfere."
"He's going to kill him." Zane's hand hovers over his weapon.
"He won't." I hear the certainty in her voice, but I also feel her fear, not of me, but for me. For what will happen if I cross this line.
"Who the fuck are you to touch her like that?" I snarl. “To tell her what to do?”
His hands come up immediately, clawing at my grip. His face shifts from surprise to panic to oxygen deprivation in seconds. Red flushes his cheeks, then purple creeps in.
I'm dimly aware of movement behind me. Zane moving forward, ready to intervene if I don’t put an end to this.
Raven's face has gone from purple to something even darker. His wolf surfaces in his eyes, amber bleeding through. But instead of fighting, his wolf cowers. Recognizes the apex predator holding his throat. His struggles weaken, hands falling to his sides in submission.
"Jax." Camille's voice again, closer now, cuts through the buzzing in my ears. "Look at me. Please."
But I can't. Can't look away from this male who’s dared touch what's mine, who’s making her feel sad. My hand tightens. I feel things shifting under my palm, delicate structures beginning to give way.
Black spots appear at the edges of my vision, and the room tilts.
Camille's hand touches my arm, and it's like lightning through water. "Don't do this. Not for him. Put him down."
But my wolf has control now, shoving me into the passenger seat of my own body. All he sees is a rival male who’s made our mate uncomfortable. Who stood in her space. Lusts after what's ours. Touched her.
"Put. Him. Down." There’s steel in her voice now. “We’re just friends.”
My grip loosens a fraction as I glare at him with narrowed eyes. Just enough for him to pull in a wheezing breath. His wolf is there, in his eyes, but it’s not pushing forward, afraid to take on the monster it sees staring back at it.
“Fuck,” Camille gasps, in relief. “Raven, are you alright?”
But then I catch the look in his eyes as they dart in her direction. Even choking, there's satisfaction there. Victory. The corner of his mouth twitches, trying to form a smile.
"Just friends?” I repeat, and both Camille and Zane nod. But there's more. I can feel it in the sudden spike of Camille's anxiety, and the way Zane shifts his weight, remaining silent. “And?”
Finally, Camille answers.
"And my ex."
Red bleeds in from the edges as my wolf roars forward, trying to shut me out completely. This male had her. Touched her. And now he's here, looking at her like he still could.
I curl my fingers tighter and tighter still, the shouting in the background fading away as my vision fractures like splintered glass, red and black bleeding together, until I can’t see or hear anything but the wolf in my head who’s baying for blood.