Chapter 310
Chapter 310:
The words stopped me dead. Through the crack in the door, I saw Jaxon backed against a row of lockers, surrounded by three older boys in expensive rival Pack uniforms. A tall blond boy shoved Jaxon’s shoulder. Jaxon’s small fists were clenched, his body trembling violently as he fought back tears.
A cold, unfamiliar fury ignited in my chest. It wasn’t just anger—it was a primal, consuming need to protect. Beside me, Grant went completely rigid. His intoxicating scent of rosemary and rain suddenly spiked with a dark, suppressed lethal intent. Yet he didn’t move. He stood perfectly still, his golden eyes fixed on me, waiting.
I didn’t have an Inner Wolf. I couldn’t use an Alpha’s Command. But as I shoved the heavy door open, the sheer force of my presence sucked the air out of the room.
I marched straight to Jaxon, placed a steady hand on his shaking shoulder, and leveled a glacial glare at the bullies.
“I am his family,” I stated, my voice ringing with an absolute, unquestionable authority that surprised even me. “And you will apologize to a member of my Pack p>
The three pups froze. The color drained from their faces as they choked on the sudden, terrifying scent of their own fear. They stammered out hasty, pale apologies before scrambling past us, fleeing the dressing room like frightened rabbits.
The moment the door clicked shut, Jaxon’s defenses crumbled. He spun around and buried his face in my stomach, sobbing openly.
“It’s okay, little wolf. I’ve got you,” I whispered, stroking his hair.
But as he pulled back, his tear-filled eyes widened in fresh panic. During the shoving, the seam of his red velvet cape—the pride of his Lycan prince costume—had been torn.
“My cape,” he gasped, his breathing turning shallow. “The play starts in ten minutes p>
𝗪е𝘦𝗸l𝘆 𝗋e𝗹𝘦𝘢ѕe𝘀 𝗼𝘯 ѕ.𝖼𝗼𝘮
“Hey, look at me,” I said softly, dropping to my knees. I quickly flagged down a passing drama teacher in the hallway and borrowed a small sewing kit.
My hands moved with surprising steadiness as I threaded the needle with gold thread. I stitched the velvet back together, my stitches clumsy but fiercely tight. To hide the jagged tear, I twisted the thread into a small, intricate knot shaped like a rosebud.
“There,” I said, smoothing the fabric over his shoulders. “It’s a magic cape now. Blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. No one can tear it again p>
Jaxon looked at the golden rosebud, his panic melting into absolute awe. He threw his arms around my neck and pressed a wet kiss to my cheek.
“Thank you, Mom!” he cried happily, already turning to run toward the stage call.
Mom.
The word didn’t warm me. It hit me like a silver dagger plunged straight into my soul.
A blinding, agonizing pain exploded behind my temples. The air vanished from my lungs. Suddenly, the scent of rosemary and rain turned to the sickening stench of burnt herbs. Flashes of blinding light, the screech of twisting metal, and the shattering of glass violently hijacked my vision. My hands began to shake uncontrollably, the needle slipping from my numb fingers.
The door clicked shut, sealing out the backstage noise.