16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

B old

I wake slowly, consciousness seeping in one degree at a time. For a moment, I'm disoriented, unsure why there's a strange smell in my nostrils. Then it all comes rushing back—Jasmine's in deep trouble, and she's here, in my apartment. In my bed.

When I turn my head, there she is, still sound asleep. In the pale morning light, she looks like something out of my adolescent fantasies, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow, her lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. My heart clenches at the sight, an unfamiliar tenderness welling in my chest.

I want to reach for her, to pull her soft, sleep-warm body against mine and bury my nose in her hair. I want to wake up like this every morning, with her scent in my lungs and her heartbeat close enough to hear. It's a dangerous thought. Though I try to push it out of my mind, I can't shake it.

Careful not to wake her, I ease out of bed and pad to the kitchen to start coffee. Inhaling the rich aroma, I let my mind wander to last night. Having Jasmine here, meeting my family, sharing my space feels both surreal and strangely… right. Like a glimpse into a future I never dared to imagine.

I can no longer deny the pull between us, the way my pulse—and cock—kicks when she's near, the urge to touch and taste and claim . But I also can't ignore the risks, the complications. She's my client, under my protection. I can't afford to be distracted by desire.

Lost in thought, I don't hear Jasmine approach until she's right behind me, her small hand landing on my elbow. I tense, then relax into her touch, my tail giving a traitorous twitch of pleasure.

"Morning." Her voice is still sleep-roughened, her eyes not quite open all the way. "Coffee smells amazing."

"Morning," I echo, turning to face her. She's rumpled and glowing, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to haul her against me, capture her smiling mouth with my own, lift her onto the counter, pull off her bottoms, and settle my mouth between her thighs. I would lose myself in her sweetness and then coax her to climax after climax until she's gasping and spent.

Instead, I grab a mug and pour her a cup, adding cream and sugar just the way I've noticed over the past few days that she likes it. Our fingers brush as I hand it over, and I swallow hard at the contact, heat licking through my veins.

"Thanks." She takes a sip, humming appreciatively. "Since I've canceled my clients until further notice, do you have any plans for us today?"

It must be hard for her, out of her element, sleeping on my crappy bed in my shitty apartment in this hellhole of the Zone. Now that I've been to the mansion where she grew up, it's clear how far a step down this is for her. Well, not a step down. More like an entire flight of stairs.

My sheets must feel like razor wire on her delicate skin compared to what she's used to. The coffee I just poured her is the generic shit they sell in bulk here in the Zone. Even the air smells different here—twenty-five years of ethnic foods and crumbling infrastructure as opposed to the new-build smell of her ritzy pool house.

And then there's me. A wolven bodyguard from the wrong side of the tracks, with claws and fangs and fur and a bushy tail. So far from the polished, suit-wearing security detail her father originally offered. I know I can protect her, would lay down my life to keep her safe… but is that enough? Can I ever hope to fit into her world, to be more than just hired muscle?

I lean my hip against the counter, trying to focus. "I thought I could show you around the Zone a bit more, introduce you to some Others. That way, you'll be familiar with the community, just in case."

I don't say, Just in case I'm not there to protect you , though the thought sits like lead in my gut.

Jasmine nods, cradling her mug. "That sounds great. I'd like to get to know the place and the people better. I've traveled with my dad a lot—Europe, Asia. The Zone, I must admit, is the most exotic by far."

"Exotic?" I raise a brow, something warm and pleased unfurling in my chest at her obvious fascination. "Most humans would call it a slum. A blight."

She shrugs, her gaze direct and unwavering on mine. "Most humans are idiots. I see a vibrant community full of unique individuals. I see life , Bold. Resilience and heart and culture all packed into these streets. It's incredible."

Fuck. The urge to kiss her is overwhelming. She gets it. Gets my world, my people. Sees the beauty here despite the hardships. I'm starting to think there's nothing about this woman that isn't remarkable.

She's smiling. And it's genuine. Here I was, thinking how she must hate it here, and she sees it as some fantastic experience. An adventure. I guess that's one reason I like her. She has a great attitude even during the most trying times.

"And… it might be good to keep busy. Keep my mind off things."

I hear the tremor beneath her words, the fear she's trying to hide. Setting my coffee aside, I take her free hand in both of mine, careful not to extend my claws as I run my thumbs over her knuckles.

"We'll figure this out, Jazz. I promise. I won't let anything happen to you."

She meets my gaze, her eyes shining with unshed tears and something that looks a hell of a lot like trust. "You've made that abundantly clear. I feel so much safer with you."

We linger like that for a moment, hands clasped, gazes locked. The air feels thick, charged with all the words we're not saying. I'm a heartbeat away from throwing caution to the wind and pulling her flush against me when a sudden pounding at the door jolts us apart.

Instantly on alert, my hackles rise and a growl rumbles in my chest. I push Jasmine behind me, stalking toward the door on silent feet. After scenting the air, catching the familiar notes of flowers and spice, my shoulders sag in relief.

"It's my grandmother." After flashing Jasmine a rueful smile over my shoulder, I add, "And she probably has enough breakfast to feed a small army."

As I open the door, returning my grandmother's exuberant nuzzles and boisterous greetings while accepting her food-laden embrace, I feel a pang of gratitude for my family and the way they've welcomed Jasmine without question.

Then I hear doors slam through the whole building and feet pounding down the stairs. I'm about to rush down there, thinking there's a security emergency, when Grandmother chuckles.

"I left a couple of baskets of breakfast downstairs for the rest of the Warriors. They must have smelled it."

I was right, food for a small army. All the guys love my grandmother, though I don't know what they like most—her generous heart or her great cooking.

"I made all your favorites," Grandmother says, bustling inside with a heaping basket. "Can't have you wasting away trying to impress your female with those bland human foods."

"Grandmother," I groan, heat crawling up my neck. I'm a grown male. How does Grandmother still have the power to embarrass me? But Jasmine just laughs, looking delighted by the display.

"I bet you wish you'd paid better attention to my cooking lessons when you were younger. How many times did I tell you a proper wolven male cooks for the female he's courting? I smell coffee, but not one bite of food. Shame on you."

I know her well enough to realize she'd be smacking my shoulder if her arms weren't full of some of my favorite childhood dishes. I'm glad humans can't hear as well as us. It would suck if Jazz heard Grandmother's assumption that I'm courting her. Was I that obvious last night? And if Grandmother has her suspicions, I imagine every one of my siblings has a theory, hypothesis, and a dozen hunches of their own.

When I lead Grandmother to the kitchen where Jasmine waits, the two most important women in my life greet each other with affectionate smiles and a warm hug, Jasmine seeming completely at ease with my grandmother's embrace. Something catches in my chest at the sight.

"This is how wolven greet someone they like." Grandmother says casually, as though it won't rock my world. She tentatively presses her forehead to Jasmine's, then pulls back to ask, "Okay?"

"Perfect." Jasmine leans forward, returning the forehead nuzzle, pulling a satisfied wolven yip from Grandmother.

Warmth explodes like a bomb in my chest and I have the sudden sense that somehow, all the broken pieces of my life have led me to this moment.

As we finish breakfast, Grandmother pulls me aside, her eyes twinkling knowingly. "She's a special one, no?" she murmurs, tilting her chin toward Jasmine. "Perhaps this is why you were never interested in all the pretty wolven girls I tried to set you up with."

I rub the back of my neck, feeling heat creep up my face. I give up all pretense of denying the truth when I admit, "She's… yeah. She's special."

Grandmother pats my cheek, her smile gentle. "Don't let fear hold you back, grandson. Life's too short not to reach for what your heart wants. Don't forget, your name is Bold."