Chapter 63: Going Soft?

Chapter 63: Going Soft? Reed POV I don’t know how, and I sure as hell don’t know why, the stupid leech had any interest in her. My—no, not mine. I refuse to finish that sentence. A stupid human? As my mate? Over my dead, rotting body. That was one thing me and my wolf couldn’t agree on. Ever since we caught her scent—sweet and warm and somehow laced with chaos—he’s been obsessed, restless, whining like a pup in heat. And I’m out here wrestling with the fact that she’s human. Fragile. Mortal. Complicated. But Blaze? That bastard? He wasn’t just not human, he was a goddamn vampire prince. Cold-blooded, arrogant, and deadly. What the hell did he want with her? Still... I couldn’t deny what I saw. The way he zoomed to her side the second she bent over, hand on her stomach, wincing. The way his expression twisted—not in anger, but something damn near close to worry. And the most messed up part? He let her yell at him. Insult him. Curse him with every ounce of rage in that tiny human body. And he didn’t retaliate. Not even with words. Blaze. The same guy who once ripped out a rogue’s throat for looking at him funny. Now just... stood there. Watching her. Like she was something precious. What the hell was going on? I don’t know much about the guy. No one does. He doesn’t talk. Doesn’t mingle. Doesn’t connect. Always skulking in the shadows, staring like he wants to kill the world. And most of the time, he does. His temper isn’t just short—it’s nonexistent. One second you’re talking, the next you’re dead. Simple as that. The guy’s the reason most supernatural kingdoms tread carefully, and even the elders whisper his name like it’s a curse. But around her? Different. Too different. She was still alive. That alone was proof something wasn’t right. She had insulted him to his pale little face, called him every name under the sun and even invented a few new ones—and he just stood there and took it. That wasn’t Blaze. And then there’s the blood thing. He bit her. I know it. Witnessed it. Smelled her blood in his veins. That should’ve been her death sentence. Blaze doesn’t bite without draining. It’s his thing. Bite, feed, end. There’s no halfway with that monster. Except... with her. She was the second person he’s ever bitten and not killed. The first was an abomination subject never to be talked. But this time? Not only did he bite her, but he pulled back. That wasn’t just self-control. That was restraint. And restraint isn’t a word that belongs anywhere near Blaze. And yeah, I’ll admit it—my gut twisted when I realized it. My hands clenched. My jaw ached from how hard I was grinding my teeth. Because no matter how much I yelled at my wolf or myself or the fates for this cosmic joke, she was still my mate. And seeing him near her? Like that? It was pissing me off. And that’s when my wolf laughed. A low, mocking sound that rang through my head like a slap. I could practically see the smug bastard pacing, tail twitching, eyes glowing with mischief. "I thought you didn’t want a human for a mate," he sneered, fangs bared in a wolfy grin. "So what’s it to you if Blaze wants her? Hmm? She’s not yours, remember?" I ignored him. Tried to. But the truth stung worse than silver. Because I did care. And that scared the hell out of me. I didn’t leave because I wanted to—hell no. I left because I had to. But I sure as hell wasn’t about to let anyone know that, especially not her. So I made it look like I stormed off in anger. Played it cool. Real alpha-like. The whole "I don’t give a shit" routine. Classic Reed. Truth was, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Her scent still lingered in my nostrils like a damn drug. Sweet, earthy, a little bit of fire—and blood. That part had my wolf pacing like a lunatic. Not the usual kind of blood we’re used to smelling either. It was more personal. More... hers. And that’s what messed me up the most. I didn’t understand it. She called it periods. Said it like it was common knowledge, like I was stupid for not knowing. And maybe I was, but I’m a damn alpha—there’s not a lot of room in my head for human biology. If it doesn’t bite, claw, or howl at the moon, it’s not really my business. Until now. So yeah, I left. But instead of going for a run or punching something into submission, I headed straight for Walmart. Yeah, Walmart. Not because I needed snacks or some cheap-ass t-shirt, but because Kevin—my partner-in-crime—was holding down the fort on night shift. Kevin, a fellow wolf, a good fighter, and the only one I trusted not to ask a hundred dumbass questions. The Walmart was dead at night, just the way we liked it. Kevin was behind the register, bored out of his mind and chewing on a pen like it offended him. He straightened the second he saw me walk in, probably sensing my mood before I even opened my mouth. "The hell happened to you?" he asked. "Don’t ask," I muttered, heading straight for the back office. "Not even a ’hi, Kev, how’s the pack?’ No ’how’s your mom?’ Nothing?" I gave him a look over my shoulder that shut him up real fast. In the office, the computer was ancient, probably coughed dust when it booted up, but it worked. I pulled up a browser and hesitated. How the fuck do you search something like this? I flexed my fingers over the keys, glaring at the blinking cursor like it owed me money. After a few seconds of hating myself, I typed: "What are human periods?" Boom. A flood of results. Medical articles, blogs, forums with way too many acronyms. I clicked one that looked legit. And then I read. And kept reading. And holy shit . It wasn’t fatal—not exactly. But it hurt. Like, a lot. Cramping, headaches, mood swings, back pain, nausea... the list kept going. My jaw clenched the further I read, and my stomach turned when I realized she’d been going through all of that while screaming at me and the damn leech. She was in pain. Real pain. And I had no clue. No wonder she was pissed. And I’d been there like some dumb beast, accusing her of being attacked, of bleeding because someone hurt her. When in reality, it was her own damn body doing the damage. Monthly. Regularly. Fuck, humans were savage. I leaned back in the chair, dragging a hand down my face. My wolf had gone silent, which was never a good sign. Either he was brooding or furious—or both. Probably both. "She’s bleeding because she’s a girl," I muttered under my breath, still trying to wrap my head around it. "And it’s normal. What the actual hell." Kevin peeked into the room, clearly eavesdropping. "Dude... are you googling periods?" "Get the hell out," I growled without turning. He snorted and walked off, but not without muttering, "Man’s down bad." I was not down bad. I was just... making sure she didn’t die. That’s it. That’s all. Still, I couldn’t shake the guilt clawing at my chest. I’d thought she was attacked. That someone had hurt her, possibly Blaze. Hell, I was ready to rip the leech’s throat out over it. But she’d just been... going through something normal. Something natural. And painful as fuck. And I’d accused her. Blamed her. Threatened someone who probably didn’t even deserve it. Shit. I didn’t just stop at the horror show that was reading what periods are. Nah—I went further. Took a damn nosedive into the rabbit hole of how the hell to help someone who’s literally bleeding and in pain and still sassing two supernatural beings like she owns the damn universe. I pulled up another tab. "Remedies for period pain." The shit that came up? Insane. Heating pads Painkillers Chocolate (really?) Herbal teas Comfort food Rest Midol (whatever the hell that was) Essential oils Freaking yoga? Okay, I drew the line at yoga. If I even suggested that to her, she’d probably stab me with a tampon. But heating pad? Painkillers? Chocolate? Those I could work with. I made a quick mental list, started scanning Walmart’s online stock, and thank the gods they had most of it in-store. I could pick them up without raising eyebrows. Kevin would side-eye me into next week, but he’d already seen the search history—so, really, the damage was done. As I stood there, hovering over the list, my wolf snorted in my head. "Gone soft." I didn’t reply. Not because I agreed—but because if I said anything, it’d probably sound like an excuse. And I wasn’t about to start justifying giving a damn about someone who was currently curled up somewhere, suffering silently and still finding the energy to curse us out. She didn’t even ask for help. Didn’t whimper. Didn’t beg. Just... powered through the pain with teeth clenched and middle fingers ready. That wasn’t weakness. That was strength in its rawest, bloodiest form. I walked over to Kevin at the register and slapped down the things on the counter. "Grab me this stuff. I’ll pay later." He picked it up, reading with raised brows, eyes scanning the items , heating pad, herbal tea, dark chocolate. Slowly. Twice. Then he looked at me. "Dude," he said, "you in love or dying?" "Neither," I growled, already turning for the door. "Just hurry the hell up." "Sure, sure," he called after me, laughing under his breath. "Don’t worry, Romeo. I got you." I didn’t respond. Because maybe I was going soft. But if that softness meant giving her even five minutes of peace from the war in her body—then screw it. I had to go back. Not because I cared—okay, maybe because I cared—but because I needed to fix this. Explain. Apologize? Ugh. Maybe not that far. I wasn’t that soft. But I had to at least not look like a complete idiot. I walked out, ignoring Kevin’s knowing smirk. "Don’t wait up," I muttered as I stalked toward the door. "Tell her I said feel better!" he called after me. How comes he knows about period and I didn’t? I guess fucking around with a lot of humans told him a bit about their bodies. I flipped him off over my shoulder and stepped back into the night. Time to face the hormonal storm head-on.