40. Jaxon
Amuffled cry wakes me up from my sleep. I twist beneath the sheets and open my eyes to the dark room. Ava shuffles around the bed, releasing a distressed moan from her trembling lips.
“No,” she whimpers. “No. No. No. Please. Don’t. Please. No!”
“Ava.” I take one of her hands but she bats me away.
Her eyes are firmly shut as she squirms and shakes her head aggressively. “No. Please. Leave me alone. Please. Don’t hurt me. Please.”
“Ava.”
I cup her cheek to find her skin burning beneath my palm. “No!” she yells as tears escape from her closed lids. “Get away. Get away.”
“Ava. Baby.” I attempt to pull her close to my chest, but I only make it worse.
Her eyes fly open, and she screams at the top of her lungs, fear etched onto her face. She extends her arm aggressively, which ends up knocking into my jaw, sending my lip into my teeth. Blood invades my mouth as I listen to her erratic breaths.
Ava scurries back into the headboard, eyes shot wide with terror. “He’s here,” she trembles. “He’s here. They’re here.”
“No.” I shake my head and wipe my mouth. “No one is here, Ava. No one is here. I promise.”
“They are,” she sobs. “I saw them. They’re here. They’re back. They’re taking me away again.”
I lean out to take her hand, trying anything to calm her down, but she leaps off the bed. Her body collapses onto the floor as endless tears fall down her cheeks. “No,” she gasps. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want you to touch me.”
My hands retreat carefully as I study her face. I clench my jaw at her petrified state, but if I do anything more, I risk breaking her trust. My wolf howls at me to do something, but I have to put her first. She’s safe here with me, that’s a start.
“It was a nightmare, Ava,” I whisper. “They’re not here. Okay? Whatever you saw, it was a dream. I promise they’re not here.”
She clamps her eyes shut and pushes her back into the wall, wrapping her arms around her legs. I drop to the floor and face her from across the room, listening to the sound of her blood pounding through her veins.
“Ava, listen to me.” I try to get her eyes to focus on me, but she’s not thinking right now. “Listen to my breaths, okay? You’re going to make yourself panic. Please, listen.”
Her throat tenses before gasping. “Come on, baby,” I drop my tone and push through the bond to calm her mind, wrapping a wave of security around her nerves like a soothing blanket.
For a few moments, her eyes glaze over and she takes her first calm breath. But then she shakes her head. “Stop doing that,” she shouts. “Stop messing with my head!”
She entwines her fingers into her hair and starts tugging at the strands. “Don’t hurt yourself.” I move forward, but she watches me with terror in her eyes. “Ava. Please. I’m sorry. I only want to comfort you.”
My heart strains. I’ve never acknowledged this agony before. Seeing it right in front of me, but not being able to do a single thing about it. I want to wrap her up in my arms and hold her until she knows she’s safe again. It’s my only wish.
“I felt them,” she whimpers. “On my skin. They’re always around me. I’ll never be able to escape them. They made me like this.”
A light of fury ignites in the pit of my stomach. I know they’re dead, but I’d do anything to bring them back and torture them all over again.
“Baby,” I whisper. “Listen to my breaths. I want you to copy me.”
She’s already beginning to hyperventilate, and I don’t want it to escalate.
Those glossy brown eyes locate mine before she looks down to my lips. I breathe in for four long counts before exhaling as long as possible. I keep going until Ava copies my actions, but her chest quivers with her breathing pattern. “That’s it,” I encourage her. “Deep breaths. Fill your lungs, then breathe out like you’re trying to blow out candles. Yes. That’s it.”
Once her breathing slows down and the bond is begging me to give her some kind of affection, all I can offer is a smile. “Good. You’ve got it.”
Ava nods and presses a hand flat to her chest as she takes control. Her cheeks are still stained with tears, but as soon as she gives me her consent to comfort her, I’m wiping them away.
Her gaze flicks down to my lip and she frowns, shaking her head. “I’m sorry,” she sniffles. “I’m so sorry.”
“What for, Ava?”
I scoot closer so we’re only a metre apart, but I keep my hands to myself. “For hurting you.” She points to my bust lip that I had forgotten all about. “I-I didn’t mean to. The dream felt so real. I saw them. Then I saw you. I flinched. I’m so sorry.”
My brows crease. “You don’t need to apologise. It’ll heal in the next few minutes. It’s fine. I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me.”
She wraps her arms around herself once more and releases a few more tears. Her eyes are so sore that I can’t watch her cry anymore. I will break. This is destroying me. “I can’t go back to sleep.” She shakes her head. “I can’t. I don’t want to.”
“Then, we’ll stay up and talk,” I suggest. “Would you like that?”
Ava’s exhausted eyes sweep the room as she remains silent for a few moments. Then, she nods. “Don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise.
Neither of us say anything more. I listen to her undisturbed breaths and sigh in relief because I know she’s calmer. Her fingers twitch around her legs.
“Can I hold you now, Ava?”
There is zero hesitation when she nods. My wolf cries in desperation to touch her, to soothe her, to take away her pain in any way we possibly can.
She pushes up onto her knees and bundles herself into my arms. I cradle the back of her head and secure the other around her lower back. I press my lips to the side of her face.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper. “I’ve always got you. You’re always safe with me.”
Ava clings onto me as I rock us from side to side, still positioned on the floor. I press her chest against mine and let the beat of our hearts synchronise. She releases a soft sound and then an exhale of ease. “I’m sorry for using our bond to calm you. I realise now that your head must have been a very overwhelming place.”
She pulls back, but I continue to hold onto her. “No.” Her voice is strangled. “I’m sorry. You were trying to help, and I was pushing you away.”
I raise my hand to brush away her hair in front of her eyes. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” I kiss her temple.
“I wish I could go back to being normal. Every time I believe I’m doing well and getting better, something like this happens.” Her eyes fall to my chest. “I know I’m not back at square one, but sometimes, it feels like it.”
“Your recovery doesn’t have a timeline, Ava.” I stroke my thumb across her cheek. “You don’t need to put pressure on yourself to feel good all the time. It’s normal to have hiccups. But keep being vocal about them, if not with me, then at least Gemma. I know you’ve grown a strong relationship with her. I never want you to struggle in silence. It’s one of my biggest fears.”
She nods slowly. “Yeah, I have grown a strong relationship with her. She’s taught me to open up and that my feelings are always valid.”
“Because they are,” I state.
Ava purses her lips, and we stay in silence for a moment. I stand from the floor and hold her close to my chest. I walk us to the bed and tuck ourselves beneath the sheets.
“How do you know how to deal with panic attacks?” she asks with her head on my chest and our fingers entwined over my stomach.
I drag my tongue across my lip. “Because when Julia passed, I used to get them. I didn’t know what was happening to me, and it felt like I was dying. But then I realised it was pure fear, anxiety. I taught myself breathing techniques because I didn’t want to feel like that again.”
She nods once. “Do you still get them?”
“No. I only got them a few months after her death. It’s been a while since I felt like that.”
“Thank you for being honest with me about her,” she whispers.
I tilt my head towards her with a frown. “What do you mean?”
Ava looks away with a shrug. “She was a big part of your life, but when I ask you things, you talk about her. You don’t keep that part of your life from me. It’s nice to know you’re transparent about it. Your life isn’t a secret.”
“I don’t keep any secrets from you, Ava.”
“I know.”
I lean over to kiss the crown of her head. “Tell me something.”
“Like what?” She looks at me.
“Something. Anything. Now that you remember your past, I’d love to hear whatever you’re willing to share.”
Ava sucks in a deep breath. “Okay,” she hums. “When I was seven, I entered a talent contest at school. It was the Christmas show, so I did a dance to ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’. I honestly thought it was great, the best thing I had ever choreographed. The prizes were given out, and I won nothing but a good-effort medal. I cried for a week.”
A small chuckle passes my lips. “That’s sweet. I would have loved to see the footage.”
“Oh, there was no footage.” She shakes her head. “My foster parents at the time were too busy with all the other kids they took in. I’m sure they turned up late and missed my performance anyway.”
The thought makes my heart strain. She never had a loving family growing up.
“Were all your foster parents like that?”
Her head shakes. “Not all. Some. I never understood why we couldn’t stay in one place for longer than six months.”
“Tell me something else.”
“I’m quite fond of spiders,” she blurts.
My eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. A kid brought his pet tarantula to school one time, and I asked to hold it. It was pretty cute. Its name was Kinsey. I remember because I looked at it and thought, ‘How can anyone be afraid of this adorable spider called Kinsey?’”
“And now you love them?”
Ava snorts quietly. “I wouldn’t say I love them, but I’m not terrified of them like other people are. I will happily place them outside if they’re in the house. Some people kill them, but they’re good for our ecosystem.”
I grin at her. “That was totally unexpected.”
“Please don’t gift me a tarantula any time soon, that is not what I’m suggesting.”
A deep laugh rumbles from my chest. “Noted. No spiders for birthdays or Christmas.” I stroke my hand over her shoulder in soothing motions. “Are you feeling better now?”
“Yes.” She nods. “I like feeling calmer with you like this. Sometimes when you’re in my head, it’s very intense with everything else going on.”
I press my lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I should ask before I make things worse. I trust our bond, but I realise it isn’t always what you need.”
“I’d prefer that,” she whispers gratefully, then sighs. “I don’t want to close my eyes and slip back into that dream again.”
“Will you let me project images into your mind instead?”
“So you were doing that, too?”
My lips quirk to the side. “I did it at the start when you had your nightmares and you wouldn’t let me near you. It was the only way I knew how to calm you because hearing your screams killed me.”
“It helped a lot,” she admits. “I didn’t fear sleeping as much.”
“Good. Will you let me tonight?”
“Please.” She looks at me with grateful eyes. “But what about you?”
“The bond will keep them going while I fall asleep.” Although I know I won’t.
Ava flicks her eyes between mine slowly. “Are you sure?”
“Positive, baby.” I wrap her up in my arms and pull her body on top of my chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Remember that. Now, close your eyes and let me help you sleep.”
Her eyelids flutter shut on command and there is a soft smile on her face. I watch her for a few moments before flashing images of golden beaches and shimmering lakes through our bond.
I wait until she’s fast asleep and then stroke back her hair with my fingers.
“Goodnight, my love.”