Kaelen snorts. "She's not wrong. We're terrible at communication."
"But Rakk tried." Lola turns her attention back to me. "He's been trying so hard with you, Serah. I've watched him struggle to find the right words, the right approach. He wanted to give you space to heal. Wanted to let you make choices about your own life after years of having no control. But he didn't know how to explain that without sounding like he was making excuses."
The guilt intensifies. "I never gave him a chance to explain."
"You were protecting yourself," Kaelen says firmly. "After what you survived, after the trauma you endured... of course you assumed the worst. Anyone would."
"But I was wrong." My throat tightens. "I spent so much time convinced he was manipulating me when the whole time he was..." I can't finish the sentence. Can't articulate the magnitude of what Rakk has sacrificed.
Lola squeezes my hand again. "He loves you. He's loved you from the moment he touched you in the healing chambers and felt the depth of your suffering. Kaelen told me Rakk came to him once, weeks ago, and said he felt like he was drowning in you. Like his magic was pulling him toward you and he couldn't stop it even when he tried."
Tears burn behind my eyes. "Why didn't he just tell me?"
"Because he was terrified of spooking you," Kaelen answers. "He knew you'd been used and hurt and controlled. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel trapped or forced into anything. So he gave you space. Let you decide how much contact you could handle. And when the clan started pressuring him about mating, when warriors started circling you like prey..." He trails off meaningfully.
The festival. Gornak grabbing my arm. Rakk's sudden, explosive announcement that destroyed any possibility of negotiation.
"Serah is mine. I'm already breeding her, and I will not share her with anyone else. We will mate, and no one else will touch her."
The memory still stings. Still carries the sharp edge of humiliation and betrayal. But now, layered over it, I can see the desperate panic underneath. The split-second decision made by an orc watching predators close in on his mate and knowing he was running out of time to protect her.
"He made a mistake," I whisper. "But he was trying to save me."
"Yes." Lola's voice is gentle but firm. "And then, when he realized how badly he'd hurt you... he bound his life to yours. Made it so you'd never feel pain again even if it killed him. That's not manipulation, Serah. That's love so desperate and all-consuming that it became willing to die rather than see you suffer."
The tears finally spill over. They track hot down my cheeks and drip onto the furs covering Rakk's massive body.
Kaelen stands, gesturing for Lola to follow. "We'll leave you two alone. He should wake soon. And when he does..." His expression softens with something like hope. "He's going to need you, Serah. Not as a mate he has to perform dominance over. Just as you. The woman he's been willing to sacrifice everything for."
They leave quietly, closing the door behind them with a soft click.
The silence returns. Heavier now with everything I've learned.
I shift closer to Rakk, studying the lines of his face. The purple bruising that marks where my injuries transferred to his body instead of mine. The bandages wrapped around ribs that broke so mine could stay whole.
All those times in public,I think with dawning horror.When he grabbed me roughly to maintain appearances. When he dragged me from the plaza or manhandled me at gatherings. Every single time, the pain came to him instead.
I'd checked for bruises obsessively those first two weeks. Examined my wrists and arms every night expecting to find marks. And there were never any. I'd thought it was strange. Thought maybe he was just better at controlling his strength than it appeared.
But no. He was literally absorbing every bit of force into his own flesh. Breaking himself in small ways over and over to keep me unmarked.
The realization cracks something fundamental in my chest.
"You're an idiot," I whisper to his unconscious form. "A complete, self-sacrificing idiot who doesn't know when to stop protecting people who don't deserve it."
But even as I say it, warmth spreads through my ribs. Because Rakk thought Ididdeserve it. Thought I was worth every broken bone, every transferred bruise, every piece of himself he gave away to keep me safe.
Movement draws my attention downward. Rakk's fingers twitch against mine. His breathing changes—becoming less deep, more conscious. The shift from unconsciousness toward waking.
My heart lurches into my throat.
His eyes open slowly. Dark brown and hazy with pain and lingering exhaustion. They wander unfocused for a moment before landing on my face. Recognition floods through his expression, followed immediately by something that looks like fear.
"Serah." His voice comes rough and broken. "You're—are you hurt? Did the?—"
"I'm fine." I cut him off before he can spiral into panic. "I'm completely fine. Not a scratch on me because apparently my mate is insane enough to tie his life to mine without telling me."
He flinches at the words. Looks away like he expects anger or rejection. "I'm sorry. I know I should have asked. Should have told you what I was doing, but there wasn't time and I?—"
