Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine

Chapter 86

JASON

Grace breathes a sigh of relief. "That's great. You've finally woken up."

Woken up? When had I fallen asleep?

One moment I’d been in Grace’s arms. Soaking up her strength and scent. The next, I must’ve drifted

off to sleep. Then the memories had seized me.

Wait, no. That isn’t entirely right.

We’d chatted more after dinner. Then we’d each taken time to wash up and change for bed.

I’d sprawled on the pile of blankets on the floor beside her bed. Grace asked if she could hold my hand,

and she’d inched down the mattress and let her arm hang off the side so she could.

A gesture that was not for her, I realize, but for me.

I rub my eyes, the events of the evening coming back in short order.

Dreaming of my mother.

Mother striking me. Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

The accident.

Nearly dying.

It’s a nightmare that’s been on repeat for most of my life. Only it’s not some make believe jumble of

horrors that settles in when I sleep. These are my memories.

And they are toxic.

In my dream, I’d knelt down in front of the woman and begged her... Was it because I’d brought her up

tonight when Grace inquired about my family.

Probably.

I rake a hand through my chest only to see that my hole pajama top is gaping open.

Interesting.

I glance at Grace quizzically.

She blushes to the roots of her hair. “It’s uh, not what you think.”

“Why don’y you first tell me what I’m thinking?” I'm teasing, but her face just turns redder.

Grace isn’t exactly the type of woman to accost me while I’m asleep.

Hell, I can’t say I would complain if she did.

"Because... you were shouting that it hurts so much. And you were grabbing your chest. I was afraid

that something was wrong... So, uh, I just went ahead and unbuttoned your shirt to check…”

“I see.”

“I should’ve buttoned you back up again but I didn’t want to risk waking you after you fell back to sleep

peacefully.”

“Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

Not this time.

But I had scratched her once. The last time I had this same cursed dream. And she was foolish enough

to try to help me again last night. “You should’ve learned your lesson from the last time, sister.”

She bites her lip. It draws all of my focus to her mouth. And what I want to do with it.

Her eyes drop to my chest and then rush back up to my face. My mouth twitches. “You’ve seen me

without my clothes before.”

She nods shakily.

“And we’re family. Wolves. Modesty isn’t something we would concern ourselves with. What is it that

makes you shy around my body?”

Her mouth opens and closes. Once. Twice. Then with a snap she closes it again. Her head bobs she

moves so fast. “I’ll, uh, get breakfast started.”

She hurries away.

It’s a one room apartment. It’s not like she can go far.

I follow her into the kitchen.

The bright morning sunlight streams in through the window. I watch her brows knit as she turns back to

me.

“Hey—you are hurt!”

She points at the scar right above my heart. It’s a thin line, barely visible.

"It's just a small, old injury," I say.

I feel like I’ve dredged up enough of the memories.

Grace doesn’t press. “Never mind,” she says. “I’m just glad you’re here now. And you’re okay.”

Am I okay?

Sometimes I wonder.

Because it isn’t just my mother. It’s the death of my father. The abuses of my grandfather. The absence

of any family or familiarity.

A pack that relied on me and uplifted me as Alpha.

But never took the time to get to know me.

Is it any wonder I turned out the way I have?

My past sharpened me into this present ruler. One who could lie effortlessly and move people around

as if life is some chessboard.

"What's wrong, Jay?” she asks. "The way you looked just now was like..." She thought for a while and

came up with a description. "Like a piece of glass that is about to break. You scared me for a moment."

"Glass?" I chuckle, and my wolf howls darkly. A hostile glint flames in my eyes and I feel my claws

breaking through the tips of my fingertips. I don’t even bother to quell the shift, but rather let my hands

and face start to morph.

I growl. Tower over her.

Only when I scent her fear do I retract back to my fully human body.

“Sister,” I say lightly, “In this world, no one can break me."

Grace looks…unsteady. As if she’s seeing me, but only really seeing me for the first time.

Was she finally sensing that I am not some misshapen man in need of saving? Was she finally seeing

that I had appointed myself her protector and I’d destroy anyone that came between them?

Or was she just finally recognizing that the biggest threat to her safety is… me.