“He will follow me,” I finish for him, the reality of my new life sinking in deeper.
“I’m not fighting my fate, Damon,” I say quietly, the truth of it surprising me. “I know I belong here. It’s just...”
“You don’t want being fated to a shifter to become your only identity,” he offers, his voice gentle.
“Yes.” I look down at my hands, twisting them in my lap. “Is that a bad thing for me to feel?”
“No, it is not,” Damon replies. “It’s a natural feeling when facing such a big change in your life.” His tone becomes more practical. “Settle into your new clan, get to know your members, and give me and Kade time to work something out for you. Could you do that for me?”
I look up at him, tears welling in my eyes. I’ve spent my whole life fighting for space in an unfair world, and here I amin a land full of supernaturals who are validating me, offering to help me keep my dreams alive while I adjust to my new future with a chaotic bear shifter. This can’t be real. No way this is real.
Before I can respond, another black cloud appears in the center of the room. Kade appears, still in her sheriff’s outfit and boots, her hair drenched in water that drips onto the newly cleaned floor. Her eyes immediately find Jabari’s sleeping form, and she glares at him like she wants to set him on fire.
“I cannot BELIEVE you sank my fucking ship,” she seethes. “Oh, oh you are going to pay for this.”
She finally notices Damon and me staring at her like she’s lost her mind. “What?” she demands, then mutters something about getting more humans from the ship to safety before teleporting away in another puff of black smoke.
I exchange a look with Damon, who merely shrugs as if to say, “That’s Kade for you.”
Welcome to Wintermoon, indeed.
13
JABARI
Iwake with a splitting headache, a thousand needles stabbing at my skull from the inside out. My eyelids feel like they’re lined with sandpaper as I force them open, moaning as I sit up from the cold floor. Somehow I’ve shifted back to my human form, completely naked.
“Fuck,” I groan, pressing my palm against my temple where the pain pulses like a heartbeat.
That’s when the memories flood back—Jackie getting shot in the arm, the dark stain spreading across her makeshift bandage. The rage that consumed me as I slammed that worthless human through the decks of the ship, creating a hole that sent water rushing in. Losing control as my bear took over, shifting to protect Jackie from the other humans who dared to condemn me for defending what’s mine.
I stand up too quickly, making my vision swim, but I stagger over to the cell bars anyway. I don’t bother touching them—I can feel the magic humming from them, no doubt Leah’s handiwork to keep me contained until my bear calms down completely. Through the bars, I spot Jackie sitting at a desk,eating something from a plate. The sight of her safe and whole eases something within me.
Another sharp pain lances through my head, making me moan louder than I intended. Jackie’s head snaps up, her eyes finding mine.
“Jabari!” She jumps to her feet, her plate forgotten as she rushes toward the cell, though she stops a few feet away from the bars.
Damon appears at her side in a flash of vampire speed, his perfectly pressed suit contrasting with my naked, disheveled state. He frowns at me, his eyes cold.
“Good, you’re awake,” he says, his tone clinical. “Put some clothes on.”
Jackie’s eyes drop to my naked body, her expression shifting from concern to surprise. I catch the scent of her arousal—sweet honey tinged with something spicier. Interesting. Despite my pounding head, a smile forms on my lips.
I walk over to the bed where someone has left clothing for me, each step sending fresh waves of pain through my skull. “How is Jackie’s arm?” I ask, keeping my voice low to minimize my own suffering.
“She is fine,” Damon replies curtly. “I gave her some of my blood.”
My teeth grind together at the thought of vampire blood flowing through her veins, but what more could I do? I was unconscious, useless to her. My bear, normally so protective, is still dead asleep inside me, too exhausted to even stir at my agitation.
“I am happy she is well,” I manage to say, though the words taste like ash in my mouth.
Damon continues to frown as I slip on the pants and pull the shirt over my head, the fabric feeling rough against my sensitized skin.
“When can he come out?” Jackie asks, and despite the pain, her voice soothes me.
“Just a little while longer,” Damon replies. “We’re waiting for someone. His name is Tristian, his cousin from Axel Clan. He’s going to escort you both to Wintermoon.”
I sit heavily on the bed in the jail cell, moaning as I clutch my head. The pain will go away—I know this. This is the second time this has happened. I should be used to it by now, but the agony feels fresh every time.
