“What do you mean you can’t find his body?” I asked.
Short rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s gone.”
“How does a dead body suddenly get up and disappear?”
“Wait, how did you kill him?” Eduardus asked.
Short sighed, “I slit his throat.”
“Werewolves can heal from that.”
I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose, the second I think we’ll have a break, new drama begins. Now, I have a not-so-dead Jefferson running around while my mate is vulnerable.
“Keep Edgar protected. He’s too weak to defend himself right now.” I ordered before walking away.
I ran my hand through my hair, I can’t tell Edgar that Jefferson is alive without him freaking out. But I can’t lie to him either.
He’s already traumatized enough, this fear is going to make him worse. He’ll constantly panic, he would always need someone by his side, but I’m the only one he trusts. He’s going to have to get used to Short and his brother again, I can’t constantly be by his side. Especially if I’m going to spend a lot of my time searching for Jefferson and killing him. Permanently.
I walked into his hospital room to see him awake. He was glaring at the blue jello, a disgusted look on his face. I rolled my eyes as I sat down.
“What happened now?” I asked.
“I hate jello.” He pouted.
I chuckled, “Of course you do.”
We were silent for a few minutes when he released a breath and looked at me.
“Jefferson isn’t dead.” He stated.
I furrowed my eyebrows, “What?”
“I’m not dumb, Mel, I know he’s alive. I would have felt the tie to my beta break.”
“He’s…alive.”
He didn’t say anything, he laid back down and stared at the ceiling. I had no idea what to say, he’s been tortured and now he finds out that man isn’t dead yet. I wanted to comfort him, but I was afraid. Afraid that he was angry at me and would snap at me any second. I can’t get those images of him hitting me, out of my head. I know it wasn’t actually him, but he was still the one hitting me.
He looked at me and raised his hand, immediately I flinched. He frowned and lowered his hand.
“I was just going to…stroke your cheek. I’m sorry.” He whispered.
I bit my lip, “It’s fine…I just…I’m sorry.”
“Can I?”
I nodded as he raised his hand again and gently stroked my cheek. I frowned when I saw the wetness on his finger.
“You were crying.” He smiled sadly.
I smiled a little, he cupped my cheek, his eyes holding many emotions. I leaned into his touch, my eyes closed. I relaxed at the warmth and the sparks that flowed through my cheek. He gently stroked my cheeks with his thumb.
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered. “I never meant to hurt you.”
I opened my eyes and smiled softly at him, “I know.”