Being away from my own pack, embedded in another's territory, sharpens every ache of longing for my own. Without Jess by my side, New Moon felt hollow, a shell missing its heart. Malcolm faced an uphill battle—restoring the pack's shattered strength after Rob's reckless damage would demand years. I knew this was true, but feeling it gnawed at me relentlessly.

Returning to an empty bed stung more than I expected. Jess wasn’t here; she was wrapped up in work at the farm, a place she clung to as a refuge. But I had hoped my home had become hers, a sanctuary where she felt safe. The silence of our bedroom screamed her absence.

Mid-afternoon training offered a brief reprieve. My muscles ached, sweat stung my eyes, and every strike and block tried to drown out the hollow space Jess left. Then her scent cut through the noise—cherry blossoms laced with cinnamon. That faint trace was like a lifeline, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.

Focused on the sparring partner before me, I wasn’t prepared when Jude’s fist smashed upward, a hammering uppercut that stunned me. Fury flared in Cyrus’s eyes, igniting a primal urge beneath my skin. My wolf snarled, desperate to taste blood, to defend what was mine.

We’d reached a tentative peace with Jude’s place beside Jess—he was her Gamma, after all—but the beast inside Cyrus brooded still. He yielded only because Jess commanded it, and with a single sharp warning, he backed off. Her authority was the iron rod holding back our pack’s simmering tensions.

Now, wrapped in Jess’s warm embrace, nothing else mattered. She was fierce and delicate all at once—her honey brown eyes blazing with fire when passion or anger stirred, but mostly kind and quietly humble. This woman had been broken when I first met her, a shadow of herself, her past locked tight behind guarded silence. Watching her rise from that shell into who she was now was a privilege I cherished daily.

We curled up together on the worn couch, ice cream melting between us, a movie flickering on the screen. Such simple moments grounded me, knitting the frayed edges of my restless mind.

"What's got you smiling like a fool?" Jess asked, her gaze steady, honey brown eyes glinting with curiosity.

"You," I replied softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She raised an amused eyebrow, shooting me a teasing glance that said, You're such a dork.

"Dinner tonight," I continued, watching as color rose in her cheeks. "You handled the pack like you were born to it. Natural leadership." The blush deepened as she looked away shyly, but I caught the proud light in her eyes.

I chuckled, savoring her rare vulnerability. Nothing with Jess came easily or quickly, but her growth was undeniable—a fierce, stubborn flame blazing brighter every day.

Once dessert was done, I took the bowl, setting it aside on the table. Jess shifted closer, her shoulder brushing against mine as she loosened her shirt. My eyes caught a glimpse of a dark mark—an unmistakable fang mark—etched on her skin.

Her eyes snapped to mine, surprise flickering there. A low growl escaped me before I could stop it. "What is that?" I demanded.

"Nothing," she said, voice clipped as she dropped her gaze.

Cyrus’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and accusing: She’s hiding something.

"I know," I muttered, frustration tightening my chest.

"Jess," I warned gently.

"Chris," she sighed, weary. "Don’t dig into things you don’t want the answers to."

Carefully, I slid the fabric aside, revealing the bruise—a perfect imprint of wolf teeth, dark and throbbing. She quickly covered it again, but the damage was done.

"Who did this?" I growled, all color draining from the room as every eye fixed on her.

"It doesn’t matter," she murmured, voice fragile.

"Bullshit," I snapped. "No one messes with my mate. Not without consequences."

"Enough!" Her eyes blazed, matching my own fire. "I wasn’t attacked. I screwed up during training. I dodged when I should have ducked. This conversation is over."

"You’re not supposed to be training," I grumbled, irritation and concern battling inside me. "I had Jude with me—so it wasn’t him this time," I added, eyes flicking to Jude, who was awkwardly choking back a laugh.

"Chris, I wasn’t even there when—" Jude stammered.

"Relax, Jude. I know. But marks like that? Not from anyone here," I said, scanning the room. My gaze landed on Sara, who avoided my eyes, looking everywhere but at me.

"Why am I not surprised?" I muttered darkly.

"Chris, don’t be mad at her," Jess pleaded softly.

"I’m not mad that Sara trained you. I’m furious because she went behind my back, ignored my orders, and now you’re hurt because of it." My voice trembled with the effort to keep calm.

Jess rolled over, pressing chest to chest with me, eyes wide and earnest beneath heavy lashes. "Please, Chris," she whispered.

"We’ll talk later," I said, voice softening as I tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "If you train, it’s with ground rules—no more secrets, no more risks. Understand?"

Her grin was radiant, the one I lived for, and she nodded without hesitation.

God, that smile could melt the coldest heart.

We settled back, the movie continuing unnoticed as Jess’s head found rest on my chest. Our bodies curled tightly, a fortress against the world.

"Elf?" Jace’s voice broke the quiet halfway through the film.

"She’s out," I murmured, brushing hair from her face. Her steady breath told me she had passed into sleep long ago.

"Damn it, I was after the fuzzy peaches," Jace grumbled, as I tossed a spoonful at his head.

"Big baby," I teased, watching him dig in happily.

Jess whimpered softly, and Cyrus’s hackles rose instantly. I tightened my arms around her, offering silent protection as her body shifted, restless under my touch.

"Jess?" I murmured, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"Nightmare?" Jude asked, pausing the movie. I nodded grimly.

Her brow creased with distress, and she whined again, struggling to surface from the dark depths. "Come on, baby. It’s just a dream. Wake up now," I coaxed, voice low and reassuring.

Suddenly, her body jerked as if shocked, and she groaned—a sound laced with anguish.

"Stop fooling around, Chris. Wake her up," Jude urged sharply.

"I’m trying," I snapped, desperation threading my words. "Jess, wake up." Nothing. "Jess, you have to wake up now." I shook her gently but firmly.

"What’s wrong with her?" Claire whispered anxiously, clinging to Xavier’s arm.

"Stop!" Jess suddenly shouted, twisting wildly in my grasp.

"Jess! It’s me, Chris. You need to wake up," I pleaded, voice cracking under the weight of fear. She’d had nightmares before, but never one like this—one that held her captive.

Her fighting grew frantic, fists lashing out wildly. Jude caught one just before it landed on my face.

"Jess, please wake up!" I begged, heart breaking with every pained whimper.

I could hear her heart pounding, smell the raw fear radiating off her. She thrashed harder, and Jude helped me hold her steady, preventing her self-harm.

"Jess, wake up!" Jude’s voice rose, panic edged in his tone. She groaned again, twisting until we had her on her back, muttering indistinct words.

Suddenly, she lashed out with a brutal, unbidden force—her head snapped back, crashing into mine with bone-cracking impact. Pain exploded across my face as my nose shattered beneath the blow.

Shocked, I faltered, and she broke free, nearly fleeing before Jace lunged, grabbing her legs to restrain her. His grey eyes locked onto mine, silently asking for guidance amid the chaos.

"Please, Jess, you have to come back to me," I begged, blood dripping from my broken nose, but my voice steady with desperate love. "We’re here. You’re safe."

Her eyes flickered, wild and scared, searching for escape. Slowly, the storm within her began to quiet, the nightmare’s grip finally loosening.

Careful now, I eased my arms around her again, this time gentler. Jude knelt beside us, offering calm strength as the pack watched silently, tension thick in the air.

Jess’s breathing steadied, and tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. "I’m sorry," she whispered, voice raw and trembling.

I kissed her hair, holding her close. "You don’t have to apologize. You’re not alone. We’re here, always."

As the room exhaled together, I knew this battle was far from over. But in this fragile moment, wrapped in the woman I loved, I found a flicker of hope—a promise that, no matter what darkness lurked, we would face it side by side.