Whispers of Affection, Walls of Steel

I woke up slowly, my body pleasantly warm and heavy from sleep. As my eyes adjusted to the soft morning light filtering through the blinds, I became aware of the tangle of limbs surrounding me. Ronan's arm was draped protectively across my waist, his copper hair tickling my shoulder. Rhys had somehow managed to wrap himself around my back, his steady breathing warm against my neck. Silas was curled on my other side, one hand loosely holding mine even in sleep.

But there was a notable absence.

Jaxon.

After the intensity of yesterday—the way he'd marked me, the way my wolf had claimed him—I'd half-expected him to stay close. Instead, he'd disappeared after making sure I was safely in the others' care. Typical Jaxon behavior, I supposed. One step forward, two steps back.

I carefully extracted myself from the sleeping pile of men, earning only a few mumbles of protest. Rhys's eyes cracked open briefly before he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow.

"Where you going?" he mumbled into the fabric.

"I want to find Jaxon," I whispered back, pulling on a hoodie I found draped over a chair. It smelled like Silas—clean with a hint of his cologne.

At the mention of Jaxon's name, Rhys became more alert. He propped himself up on one elbow, his hair adorably mussed. "Want company? He's probably in guard mode, and you know how he gets."

I nodded gratefully. Jaxon in "guard mode" could be especially prickly, and having Rhys as a buffer might make things easier. Plus, Jaxon seemed to tolerate Rhys better than anyone else.

Rhys slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Silas and Ronan. He threw on a t-shirt over his pajama bottoms and followed me out of the room.

"Any idea where he is?" I asked as we padded barefoot down the hallway.

"His room, probably. He doesn't actually sleep much," Rhys said quietly.

"Wait, he has his own room here? I thought you guys all shared."

Rhys shook his head. "Jax needs his space. Too many emotions from others overwhelm him sometimes. Being an empath isn't all mind-reading fun—it's feeling everything everyone else feels too."

That explained a lot about Jaxon's tendency to isolate himself. "How do you know which room is his?"

"Second door on the left," Rhys answered without hesitation. "But I should warn you—he doesn't like surprise visitors."

"He'll have to get used to it," I said with determination. "Especially after yesterday."

Rhys gave me a knowing look. "Going to tame the beast, are you?"

"Not tame," I corrected. "Just... love him as he is."

Something soft passed over Rhys's face. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "You're good for us, you know that? All of us, but especially him."

My heart squeezed at his words. "I'm trying to be."

We reached Jaxon's door, and I hesitated before knocking. Rhys placed his hand over mine.

"Let's not knock," he whispered conspiratorially. "Element of surprise. If we wake him from a dead sleep, he'll be too groggy to throw us out immediately."

I bit my lip, unsure. "Is that wise?"

"Probably not," Rhys admitted with a grin. "But when have we ever done the wise thing?"

He had a point there. I carefully turned the doorknob, relieved to find it unlocked. We slipped inside the darkened room, my eyes adjusting to find a sparse but neat space. Unlike the others' rooms filled with personal items, Jaxon's contained only the essentials: a bed, a dresser, and a small desk.

And in the bed, Jaxon himself lay sleeping, his dark hair spread across the pillow. Without his usual scowl, he looked younger, almost peaceful. The sheets were tangled around his waist, leaving his tattooed chest bare. The sight of him made my breath catch.

Rhys nudged me forward, and we silently approached the bed from opposite sides. With exaggerated care, we lowered ourselves onto the mattress, Rhys on one side, me on the other. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as we settled in beside the sleeping wolf.

It took less than thirty seconds for Jaxon to stir. His eyes flew open, instantly alert, his body tensing.

"What the fuck?" he growled, looking from me to Rhys and back.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," Rhys drawled.

I placed my hand on Jaxon's arm, feeling the muscles bunch under my touch. "We missed you," I said simply.

Jaxon's eyes narrowed, but he didn't immediately throw us out. Progress. "Why are you in my bed?"

I bit my lip, trying to think of something that might make him less likely to kick us out. "My heat symptoms are getting worse," I improvised. "I need physical contact with my bonds to manage it."

Rhys caught on immediately. "Yeah, and I think I'm developing some empathic abilities too. Sharing her symptoms."

Jaxon's expression shifted subtly. He stared at us for a long moment, then sighed. "You're both shit liars."

"What? No, I really—" I started.

"I'm an empath, remember?" he cut me off. "I can literally feel that you're lying."

Damn. I should have thought of that.

"Fine," I admitted. "I just wanted to cuddle with you this morning. Is that such a terrible thing?"

Jaxon looked genuinely confused, as if the concept of someone wanting to cuddle with him was completely foreign. "Why?"

The vulnerability in that single word nearly broke me. How could someone so strong be so unsure of his own worth?

"Because I care about you," I said softly. "Could you... would you lower your shields? Just for a moment? So I can show you what I mean?"

Jaxon hesitated, his jaw tightening. Emotional vulnerability was clearly his worst nightmare.

"Just for a second," Rhys encouraged. "She won't hurt you."

After what felt like an eternity, Jaxon gave a short nod. "Five seconds. That's it."

I placed my hand on his chest, right over his heart, and closed my eyes. Focusing on my feelings for him, I projected them outward: gratitude for his protection, safety in his presence, hope for our future together, desire that still lingered from yesterday, and warmth that bloomed whenever I thought of him.

When I opened my eyes, Jaxon was staring at me intently.

"That's hunger," he said flatly, breaking the connection and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "You're just hungry. I'm getting a shower."

He stalked into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. I stared after him, deflated but not deterred.

"That went well," Rhys said dryly.

"He felt it," I insisted, reaching for the t-shirt Jaxon had discarded on the floor. I held it to my chest, breathing in his scent. "He just doesn't know what to do with it yet."

Rhys's expression softened. "You're not giving up on him, are you?"

"Never," I said firmly, getting to my feet. "Come on, let's make breakfast. Food might be the way to his heart if emotions aren't working yet."

We slipped out of Jaxon's room and headed for the kitchen. As I rummaged through the refrigerator, Rhys leaned against the counter, watching me thoughtfully.

"You know, most people would have written him off by now," he observed. "He's not exactly making it easy to care about him."

I pulled out eggs and bacon, setting them on the counter. "The things worth fighting for rarely come easy."

"True," Rhys mused. "And beneath all that anger and those walls—"

"Is someone who deserves to feel safe and loved," I finished for him. "I'm going to make sure he knows what that feels like, even if it takes years."

"Well, if anyone can break through to—"

"No one is going to hurt her ever again," Ronan's voice cut in firmly as he joined us in the kitchen, his eyes still heavy with sleep but his tone resolute. The protective declaration hung in the air between us, a promise that encompassed all the bonds we shared.