Chapter Nineteen
Jasmine
“They started hitting me within the first month,” I heard myself say, and my voice sounded absurd to my own ears, distant and hollow like it was coming from somewhere outside my body.
“Little things at first. A slap when I spoke out of turn.
A shove when I didn't move fast enough. They called it discipline; said it was for my own good.”
The words came easier than I'd expected, like they'd been waiting just beneath the surface all this time. I kept my eyes fixed on my hands, watching them twist the blanket into knots, unable to look at the three Alphas surrounding me.
“It got worse,” I continued, my voice shaking.
“Everything I did was wrong. If I cooked dinner, it was either too hot or too cold or not seasoned properly. If I cleaned, I missed spots. If I spoke, I was too loud. If I stayed quiet, I was being sullen.” A bitter laugh escaped me, sharp and painful.
“I couldn't win. There was no way to be... enough.”
I could feel their attention on me, heavy and focused, but none of them interrupted. They just let me talk, let the poison drain out in broken sentences and fractured memories.
“Bane was the worst,” I whispered, and saying his name out loud made me flinch. “He had these rules, so many rules, and I could never remember them all. And when I broke them, even the ones I didn't know existed, he'd...” My voice cracked, the sentence dying.
“Take your time,” Lucian said softly. “We're not going anywhere.”
I nodded, swallowed hard, and forced myself to continue. “He'd hit me. Or he'd have one of the others do it while he watched. Sometimes he'd lock me in a room without food for days. Once, he broke my wrist because I'd forgotten to address him properly in front of visiting Alphas.”
My chest heaved with the effort of breathing through the memories. Tears streamed down my face unchecked now, and I didn't bother wiping them away.
“I'm sorry,” I choked out, my free hand coming up to cover my face. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't be crying like this, I just—”
“No.” Theo's voice cut through my apology, firm, and absolute. The bed shifted as he moved, and then his arms were around me, pulling me against his chest before I could process what was happening. “You should never apologize for your tears. Never.”
I stiffened instinctively, my body responding to being grabbed even though my mind knew this was different. But Theo's embrace wasn't confining. His arms were strong and solid around me, but not tight, not trapping. I could pull away if I wanted to. He was offering comfort, not control.
Slowly, incrementally, my muscles relaxed.
I let my weight settle against his chest, felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear, and smelled the leathery scent of him mixed with something warmer, more personal.
His hand came up to cradle the back of my head; fingers gentle in my tangled hair.
“Keep going,” he murmured against my hair. “We're listening.”
The safety of his embrace, the solid presence of Kade and Lucian on either side, gave me the courage to speak the worst of it. The part I'd told no one, the secret I'd carried like a stone in my chest for nearly a year.
“I got pregnant,” I whispered, and felt Theo's entire body go rigid beneath me. “Four months in. I didn't even realize at first, didn't know the signs. By the time I figured it out, I was already three months along.”
The room had gone utterly silent except for my ragged breathing and the sound of my tears hitting the fabric of Theo's shirt.
“I thought...” My voice broke completely, dissolved into something raw and bleeding. “I thought maybe it would change things. That they'd be gentler, that Bane would see me as valuable now that I was carrying their child. But it just made him angrier.”
I felt more than heard Lucian's sharp intake of breath. Kade shifted in his chair, and when I glanced at him through my tears, I saw his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles had gone white.
“He said I was trying to trap him,” I continued, the words tumbling out faster now, desperate to get them all out before I lost my nerve. “That I'd gotten pregnant on purpose to secure my place in the pack. It wasn't true. I never wanted—” A sob cut off the sentence.
Theo's arms tightened around me, not crushing but secure, like he was trying to hold all my broken pieces together. “It's okay,” he murmured. “Let it all out. We've got you.”
“He beat me,” I whispered, and the words came out strangled, barely audible. “For being manipulative. For trying to trap him. He hit me in the stomach, over and over, and I couldn't move. I tried to protect my baby, but I couldn't—”
My entire body was shaking now, violent tremors that I couldn't control. The memory was so vivid I could feel it, the impact of fists against my abdomen, the way I'd curled around myself trying to shield what was inside me, the helplessness of being too weak to stop it.
“They hurt me so much,” I gasped out between sobs, “that I lost my baby.”
The silence that followed was absolute and terrible. I felt it press against me from all sides, heavy with horror, rage, and grief.
Lucian made a sound like he'd been punched, a choked gasp that ended in something close to a growl. I saw his jaw had dropped open, his eyes wide with shock and pain.
Kade had gone completely still in his chair, but I could see the fury radiating from him in waves. His jaw was locked, and every muscle in his body was taut with barely restrained violence. Not directed at me. At them. At what they'd done.
“Three days later,” I continued, unable to stop now that I'd started, “there was blood. So much blood. And pain, and—” Another sob tore through me, making my whole body convulse. “I lost everything. The baby, any hope that things would get better, any reason to stay.”
Theo's hand stroked through my hair, his touch infinitely gentle. “Let it all out,” he said again, his voice rough with emotion. “Just let it all out, honey. You don't have to hold it anymore.”
So, I did. I let myself fall completely apart in his arms, let the grief and trauma and rage pour out of me in wracking sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than my chest. I cried for the baby I'd lost, for the innocence they'd beaten out of me, for all the months I'd spent surviving alone when I should have been healing.
“Never again,” Kade's voice cut through my sobs, low and fierce and absolutely certain. “Do you hear me, Jasmine? We will never let anyone hurt you again. Not them, not anyone. You're under our protection now, and that means something.”
“It means everything,” Lucian added, his voice tight with emotion. “You're safe now. You're home.”
Home. The word settled over me, both impossible and precious. I'd never had a home, not really. Not since I had to leave my mother, not since the day she had been forced to give me away to those monsters.
My sobs gradually quieted, tapering off into hiccupping gasps and then into exhausted silence. The afternoon light had shifted again, painting long shadows across the floor, and I felt hollowed out, emptied of everything I'd been carrying for so long.
Theo's arms stayed around me, steady and warm. Kade had moved at some point, his chair pulled closer to the bed, his hand resting on the mattress near where Lucian sat.
My eyes grew heavy, exhaustion pulling at me with insistent fingers.
I tried to fight it, tried to stay present, but my body had other ideas.
The safety of their presence, the release of finally telling someone, the sheer emotional exhaustion of reliving my trauma—it all conspired to drag me down into sleep.
“Sleep,” Theo murmured, his hand still stroking through my hair. “We'll be here when you wake up.”
I wanted to argue, wanted to tell them they didn't have to stay, that I'd be fine alone. But the lie wouldn't form, and the truth was I didn't want to be alone. Not anymore.
My breathing evened out as consciousness slipped away from me. The last thing I registered was the feeling of being held, of being protected, of being seen and understood in a way I'd never experienced before.
For the first time since arriving at the penthouse, since fleeing my old pack, since losing everything that had mattered, my face was finally peaceful. The lines of fear and pain that had been etched into my features smoothed away, leaving behind something younger, softer.
The three Alphas stayed exactly where they were, maintaining their protective positions around me, watching over my sleep. And somewhere in the space between waking and dreams, I let myself believe that maybe, possibly, I really was safe.