Chapter 45: Doesn’t sound so bad

Chapter 45 Lenora "I don’t know what you mean," he says, trying to deflect, gaze flicking toward the window like he’s searching for an escape route. "Cameron." My voice is firmer this time, and I don’t let the moment pass. I close the first aid box and set it aside, then shift onto the bed beside him. The sheets are still rumpled from our earlier sparring, from the very thorough beating I gave him. There’s the scent of sweat on his skin, earthy and real. The bruises are already fading thanks to his healing, but I can see the tension still etched across his shoulders. He exhales, long and slow, and finally meets my gaze. "I’m afraid," he says. I don’t interrupt. I let him speak. "At first I was afraid of accidentally hurting you... but looking at my current state, no way that’s happening." He gives a small, self-deprecating smile, then winces slightly as he shifts his ribs. I take his hand in mine and trace a slow circle across the back of his palm. "You’re as strong as your mate. That’s how the bond works. Some wolves are stronger than others, yes—but think about the disasters that would happen if someone could just accidentally injure the person they were bonded to. It would defeat the whole purpose of having a mate." His fingers twitch in mine. "Having a mate isn’t just about being married, or the great sex," I continue, voice low. "It’s the companionship. The certainty. That even if it rains, even if everything else goes to hell... you have a home. You are home." He doesn’t speak right away. I don’t push. I wait. Then, finally, he swallows and says, "I guess... I was afraid on a mental level, too." He pulls his hand back and leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the scuffed wood floor like it might swallow him whole. "I had an incident once," he says. "As a kid. I was just adopted by this new family. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t even realize how strong I was, but I hurt the other kids. Really badly." The weight of the memory darkens his voice. "They were teasing me, cornering me—I think I panicked. I blacked out for a second, and the next thing I knew, one of them had a broken arm and another kid was screaming about his ribs. I was maybe ten. Just a kid. But after that... everything changed." He doesn’t cry, but I can see the grief in the set of his jaw. He’s reliving it. "I got passed around a lot after that," he says quietly. His voice isn’t angry. It’s tired. Worn at the edges like fabric that’s been handled too many times. "People think kids don’t remember. But I do. Every placement. Every time someone looked at me like I was broken, or dangerous, or just... too much." My heart aches. I reach for his hand again and squeeze it tight. Not because I have the perfect thing to say, but because he shouldn’t be holding that weight alone. "You weren’t too much," I whisper. "You were just a child. You didn’t know." "I know that now," he says, staring down at our intertwined fingers. "Now I know I’m a wolf—or something like it. But back then? Back then I was just this... freak. Stronger than the other kids. Couldn’t touch anything without being warned. Couldn’t play without someone getting hurt. I didn’t want to break things, Lenora. I just didn’t know how not to." His breath shudders out of him. "I spent so long trying to shut that part of me down. Trying not to be noticed. Not to be feared. I mean, I wasn’t this strong back then—not like now—but I was still stronger than any other kid in the system. Even stronger than some adults, I guess. And it just got me in more trouble." He shakes his head, laughing bitterly under his breath. "All I wanted was a family. Stability. A normal life. But that never felt possible, because people looked at me like I was dangerous. And part of me believed them." I don’t speak right away. I don’t think I could if I tried. So I lean in and wrap my arms around him, pulling him into a hug that’s steady, firm, certain. I want to hug that terrified boy. I want to find every version of Cameron who was ever abandoned or misunderstood and tell him that he’s okay now. That there’s nothing wrong with him. He doesn’t move at first. Just sits there, rigid in my arms like he’s waiting for the catch. But slowly—hesitantly—he lets his forehead drop to my shoulder. His hands lift and settle around my waist. *** Cameron I inhale her scent—warm like rain on hot stone and just a little wild. I’ve never told anyone what I told Lenora tonight. Not really. And even then, that was the watered-down version. I didn’t say how bad it really got. Didn’t tell her about the homes that adopted me after the rumors started, how some people took in a "dangerous" kid just to see if they could break him. I didn’t mention the beatings. The cages. The sick curiosity in their eyes. I didn’t tell her how, once I had money and power, I found them all. I didn’t stop until every one of them had answered for what they did. But none of that matters right now. Because this hug—this moment—is doing something to me I don’t have words for. It feels like my body’s been cold for years and she’s the first thing that feels warm again. She pulls back, just enough to look up at me. Her gray eyes hold galaxies. There’s a calm in them that makes the chaos in my chest slow. And those wild, dark curls, some sticking to her skin, some brushing her cheeks—I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more unfairly beautiful in my life. "I know you don’t understand this yet," she says softly, "but being mates means—" She takes my hand and places our palms together. Her hand is so much smaller than mine, but it fits like it was always meant to be there. "You and I walk the same path. If you walk through fire, I walk through fire. If you drown, I’ll try my best to pull you out... but if I can’t, I’ll drown with you." She threads our fingers together, palm to palm, as if sealing a promise. Her voice is steady, sure. Not a vow, not a threat—just truth. "It means, you might hurt the world, but you’d never hurt me. Even if you wanted to." She presses our joined hands to her lips, a soft kiss to my knuckles. My throat tightens. "I don’t know why the moon goddess chose us. Why she decided we were two halves of the same soul. But she did." Her voice dips, reverent. "I know you don’t believe in her. You don’t have to. But I’m asking... don’t close yourself off to me. Let’s spend the rest of our lives figuring out what she saw in us—why she knew we’d need each other." She tries to let go, gently pulling her hand back. But I hold on. "Rest of our lives seems like a long time," I murmur, almost too quiet. Her breath catches. Her eyes flicker, just slightly, and I see the way she’s already bracing for rejection. "But I’m not against it," I add, and her gaze snaps back to mine. "You’re..." I trail off, swallowing thickly. "You’re so beautiful, Lenora. Not just your face, not just this—" I motion vaguely between us. "I mean... you. All of you. I couldn’t come up with someone better for me if I spent my entire life trying." The tension in her shoulders eases. She watches me like she’s waiting for me to change my mind. "I guess," I say, with a slow breath, "forever with you doesn’t sound so bad." She exhales shakily, and the smile that blooms on her lips is the most dangerous, breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. And I realize with painful clarity— I want forever with her too.