I didn’t say no the next time.
I shake my head as the memory fades to black, but the feeling of complete fear remains. My hands tremble and my mouth goes dry. I glance around, like Aidan could jump out at me at any moment.
“Emily,” Maya says gently, “he didn’t need to hold you down to force you. Coercive control can be just as damaging—sometimes more so. It’s where one person uses tactics like manipulation, threats, isolation, or abuse to dominate and control another person. It’s still abuse.”
I hold my breath, trying to believe her words. And some of the fear ebbs away.
“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t say no if you didn’t have the freedom to do so. Consent only counts if it’s enthusiastic and freely given.” Maya’s voice is gentle yet firm and leaves no room for argument.
My breath comes out in a shaky exhale.
“It wasn’t just when he wanted something that I didn’t that it was a problem. Or that still is, I guess. He wanted sex to be the same way, him on top, over quickly, no enjoyment forme. He was always clear that I wasn’t meant to like it and if I tried to, that made me a whore. And I believed him.”
I glance at Maya’s shocked expression before she quickly schools her features. Her face changed so rapidly that I don’t think a human would have even noticed. But I see it.
“So now, with Jackson… he is the opposite. He wants to make me happy and my pleasure seems to be paramount to him. He pays attention. And it’s so good. But then I hear Aidan’s voice again, telling me I’m disgusting. That I’m used up. And that Jackson will figure it out soon.”
Tears flow freely while I talk about my fears. The ones Aidan ingrained in me and living in Blood Moon reinforced.
Maya listens, she never judges and never blames me for my physical displays of feelings or what Aidan would have called emotional outbursts. He always hated my tears. And then she does something completely unexpected. She tells me I’m right to feel this way. I gape at her, confused and unsure how to proceed. Does she think Jackson will see how much better he could do than me, too?
“What I mean, Emily, is that you have been in a horrible, traumatic, and dangerous situation. Your brain is trying to keep you safe by reminding you of the potential for others to treat you awfully.”
“You don’t think I’m being stupid?”
“No, I most certainly do not. I think you’rewrong, but I don’t think you’re stupid. I wish there was a magic way of knowing if you could trust a person, but there isn’t. And you are not stupid for being cautious of new relationships. The only way to know that Jackson isn’t like Aidan is to pay attention.”
“To what?” I got it so wrong with Aidan. It feels like something is cracking open in my chest—something tender and raw. In the beginning, I assumed his strength and dominance would keep me safe, not be turned against me. All of my attention to detail was aimed at keeping him happy, but it was never good enough.
“There’s no one answer,” Maya admits. “But you can look for signs. You don’t have to answer now, but ask yourself: How does he treat people who are weaker than him? How does he act when he’s angry? Does he apologize when he hurts someone—even by accident? What do others say about him? How does he react when you say no or assert a boundary?”
As Maya asks these questions, I analyze my answers for both Aidan and Jackson, and it further highlights their differences. Even when Jackson feared I could be a threat to the pack, he was never cruel. Abrupt and standoffish, sure. But never unkind.
And he’s never forced anything. Even when I’ve pushed him. Even when I’ve panicked mid-kiss. Even when I’ve sobbed and pulled away. He’s just remained steady and secure.
“Your smile suggests those answers might align in a positive light?”
“Yeah, I think they might,” I reply with a smile.
The rest of the session moves gently. Maya helps me recognize when my thoughts are distorted by trauma and shows me how to question those spirals. She doesn’t rush me. Or tell me to let it go. Instead, she gives me paths—choices. The power to decide what comes next.
Maya would make an amazing Luna if she was a shifter. But maybe that’s why humans have therapists. They don’t have packs to hold them through the hard things.
Chapter 24
Jackson
“Any chance you want to take my patrol tonight?” Luca asks as he joins me for Emily’s training. He agreed to help with her session today. She has become too comfortable with me and it’s not pushing her anymore. Since beginning therapy five days ago, the frequency of her panic attacks has significantly decreased. The change in her demeanor is incredible.
Every day it’s like I’m getting to see more and more of her real self. The sharp, funny, sassy parts that she hasn’t been able to show for so long have begun to bloom. She’s still cautious, still has moments where she worries she said the wrong thing, but now she believes my reassurances rather than spiraling.
She studiously works on the skills she has learned in therapy and makes sure that she keeps practicing until they become natural. And I see the changes in all the little things. Like, how yesterday when she knocked over a vase and broke it. She didn’t dissolve into fear. She apologized, picked up the pieces, and we moved on with our day.
Such a small thing, but it’s huge for Emily. She even has me trying some techniques out. And it’s been surprisingly helpful for me too. Maybe the humans are on to something with this therapy thing.
“Well, fancy an extra patrol this week?” Luca asks, and I realize I’ve gotten lost thinking about Emily again.
“Definitely not. I’ve got plans with my girl and they don’t involve leaving the bedroom.” Luca huffs and throws me a glare.
