14. Elliot

Ifind Sadie in the garden, her face puffy from crying. I did that, and I hate it. But it's mine to own up to.

Graham untangles from her and gets up. Leaning in, he says softly in my ear, "We love you. Talk to her."

On instinct, I grab his hand as he steps to leave. Though of course, I know he can't hold me through this.

I'm not sure I'm strong enough to let her see me at my weakest. My body tightens, my legs bracing to run. I don't want her to know how fucked up I am. I don't want to taint her light with my shit. I only want the good stuff for her; selfishly, I don't want to change how she looks at me.

But as Tristian said, I can't hide. Not from this. And I don't want to, not really. Even though I'm afraid.

Graham catches my eyes, giving me a reassuring smile. The scent of his rain and sunshine gives me the courage I need. It reminds me of last night, how he and Doc helped me reopen the bond and all the love that poured in. It pours still, her bond humming with it.

I'm not alone. My pack loves me. Sadie loves me. This is my home.

I repeat the words, hoping I'll never doubt their truth if I say them enough.

Graham squeezes my hand and calls over his shoulder with another look our way, "Love you."

The words are meant for Sadie, but they hit me in the chest, a shot of extra courage and strength.

Sadie eyes the two of us, her face thoughtful as she tracks Graham's movement up the porch steps. She turns back to me and pats the spot beside her. "Come lie with me. I slept like shit, and I bet you did too."

I hesitate. I'm not sure I can say what needs to be said if she's in my arms. She feels too good, and I might chicken out. "Red, I?—"

She sits up, wrapping her nest blanket around her. In the soft morning light, her red hair almost glows. It makes her look like an angel, except that her beautiful face is pinched in pain. "Bear, I realized this morning. I'm sorry I didn't sooner. I've been?—"

I go to my knees and take her hands. "No, Red, don't apologize. This one is on me. I'm sorry I cloaked the bond. I shouldn't have done it. I didn't realize how dangerous it was. And I was lying to myself about how bad I was doing?—"

She pulls her hands from me, and I close my eyes at the loss, my words dying out. My father's voice, which lives in my head and reminds me most days that I'm no good, tries to tell me that she doesn't want me.I hate that voice, but it lives inside me anyway.

Her soft fingers trace my jaw, and she tugs on my chin. "Look at me, Bear."

Sadie loves me. My pack loves me.

She floods the bond with a rush of light, and I know in my soul the mantra is true.

My father was a liar.

I open my eyes and the censure I was taught to expect is missing.

"I get it, Bear. I really do. You're not alone in that. I've been lying to myself about how I was doing too. And I know how sorry I am that I couldn't give you back all the care you've shown me. So if you need my forgiveness for cloaking the bond, you have it. Will you forgive me for being so wrapped up in my shit that I lost sight of you?"

Her words mean everything. I'm an idiot for not being upfront with her earlier, for not telling her I was struggling. Nothing I've ever said to her—hell, to anyone in this pack—has ever been met with anything but fierce love and acceptance.

She has every right to be furious with me. I put us all in danger because I was too proud to ask for help. But she's given me kindness instead. Maybe I don't deserve it and perhaps it's selfish, but I soak up her forgiveness anyway, vowing to make it up to her.

We don't have the same shit, but our struggles are similar enough. Isn't that what Dr. Bash said? Maybe if I could talk about it, then she could too. I can learn to be good at opening up. I have the best teachers.

"There is nothing to forgive, Red." I choke out the words.

That strange sensation returns, my eyes stinging and my nose burning. I recognize it now, the tears. I let them come. There's something freeing in them, even though a small part of my brain yells for me to stop so she can't see my weakness. I ignore that voice and focus on the feel of her in my arms and the memory of Doc's smooth voice telling me it's okay to cry.

She hugs my neck and crawls into my lap, making us teeter before I throw my arms around her and hang on tightly. Her hand clings to my neck, and it's the most precious tether.

"We're gonna agree to disagree on that," she huffs, her voice clogged with tears. "But promise me we'll talk before you think about doing something like that again." She squeezes me tighter, her scent so strong that it surrounds us completely. "You're my best friend, Bear. Maybe it's needy or wrong, but I love you too much and need you too much. You make me feel safe. Your touch is the most comforting thing in the world. When I'm with you, I can breathe. Please don't leave."

"I promise I won't. I don't deserve you, but I won't let go again." I hug her back, my whole body singing in relief that she's here with me now.

She speaks into my neck, the words soft. "You deserve everything, Bear. You're one of the best men I know, and I'm lucky you're my mate."

I take those words and try to believe them. If that's what she sees in me, then maybe I can live up to it.

Her fingers find my hair line and she runs her hands back and forth along my neck. It's so good that I never want to let go of this moment.

We stay in the dirt, gripping one another until my heart aches less.

She pulls back and holds my head between her hands. "What's going on? Is it the city? Is it my bond?"

I blow out a breath. "I don't know exactly. The city isn't good and having you in danger there isn't either. With my PTSD, it's a trigger, like loud sounds and crowded spaces."

"That's a nice way of saying yes, it's me." Her voice cracks on me and it breaks my heart.

"No. It's not," I say adamantly, willing her to see the truth in my eyes. "There is no blame. It just is. Do you blame getting sick on me?"

"Of course I don't."

"Why not? Isn't it possible that my cloaking made you sick?"

"No, Bear, that was exhaustion. I was trying to pretend I could keep going, so I kept stuffing down everything I was feeling, and it caught up with me."

I shake my head, frustrated. "If I'm not to blame for your being sick, you're not to blame for what happened for me in the city."

She runs her finger back and forth along the tiny scar on my upper arm where I got nicked with a grazing bullet during the scuffle with her father that ended in his arrest. It's not even the worst of my scars. Not by a long shot. My upper legs have them all over and there are a few along my back and arms from before the war. I'd give my life for her and wear this one proudly. But I can feel the surge of guilt through the bond as she traces it over and over with her finger.

"I won't ever regret protecting you. That isn't what gives me nightmares, Red. I would do it again. Over and over. What I can't stand is losing you," I plead for her to hear me, to know that what I'm saying is true.

"Me either, Bear." She kisses the scar and looks at me, her face pinched in concentration. "Can you explain your triggers to me? I want to understand."

I break her gaze, looking into Graham's garden. "I'll try. I'm not always good with words."

She brings me right back with a firm tug on my chin. "You talk to me fine. I don't need everything all at once. Only what you can share, but I want to know what I can do. If I can be aware of the triggers, I can help avoid them."

"You can't avoid life, Red. Not for me."

"No, I can't. But as you can see, I've also been pushing past my limits. I want to understand both better. Maybe then we can navigate it together with more caution in the future."

I nod and press my forehead to hers. "I can do that."

I pick us both up and sit on the lounger. She crawls between my legs and curls up, getting comfortable. My words are hesitant and slow at first. But the longer I talk, the easier it becomes.

She asks questions, and I answer, telling her about Dr. Bash, my symptoms and triggers, and my PTSD. Even though it makes me uncomfortable to share these parts, I want her to know me. I let the bond ground me, and eventually, I'm talking without her having to prompt me.

When it's time to tell her about Lance and Bono and my time in the army, the words come easier than I thought they would. As if a weight is lifted off my chest.

"I'm so sorry, Bear. To lose your pack like that. There are no words. It's awful." She holds onto me but doesn't look at me, and I'm grateful. "Will you tell me your favorite memory of them? Something good so I can picture them in my mind at a time when you all were happy?"

I think back on my time with my first pack. That's what she called them, and I guess that's what they were. Or they would have been. They felt like pack. Painful memories try to break in, but I hold on to this one night and try to only remember the good.

"A lot of our time deployed was just waiting around for shit. It was all these intense moments out on patrol and then endless waiting.Some of the guys with packs and families used to get packages. Lance always got them, but this one had the stuff to make s'mores. You'd never seen a person as excited as Lance. When Bono tried to take them to the mess and get Cookie to make them, you'd have thought he was breaking the law. Lance was so hyped, but he said it needed to be a certain way. He said s'mores were only for special occasions. He made our asses wait all day until we could have them by the fire.

"He got everyone to pitch in extras. We had beer. Someone got Cookie to sneak us a pack of hot dogs, and some idiot made homemade sparklers and practically lit our asses on fire doing it. There was music. Bono told stories that made him look like a super soldier, and Lance joked about everything. It wasn't anything except that we laughed a lot while we ate s'mores by the fire, shooting the shit."

I grew up trash out in the country with a mean father and a mother who was always trying to keep it together until she ran. I'd never known a peaceful night like that, even though it was a pretend holiday during a war.

Sadie makes a sound of agreement. "I can see them. When you talk, I can hear how much you love them. Did you always smell like that night?"

That statement rocks through my body, shaking the foundation of my world. "I don't know," I choke out the words. "I haven't thought about that night in a long time. Years. I never made the connection until you said it just now. But I don't think so."

When I first presented, no one talked about my scent. I only ever remember Bono telling me, years later, that I smelled like smoke. My mind starts to tumble down the path of the memory of presenting, but I suck in Sadie's scent and focus on staying present until it passes. I don't want to think about that awful night and all the fucked-up shit that came after.

Instead, my mind conjures up the image of my first pack at that fire on the outskirts of a faraway city. I can see Lance and Bono laughing, heads thrown back and leaning into each other. The memory is rich, like melted chocolate. For the first time, my scent carries the taste of freedom instead of chalky smoke and ash. Her revelation brings an overwhelming sense of peace. Maybe I've been holding on to pieces of them and carrying those with me all this time. Even though they couldn't be here with me the way we imagined, I guess I never really lost all of them.

She doesn't speak for a while, and I'm lost in my memories. But this time, it's the good ones that seem to float to the surface, one after another. So many of them have been buried under a pile of rubble and I'd forgotten what it was like to think of them without pain. It's a gift.

"Do the guys know about your past?" she asks, returning me to the moment.

"Some. Tristian and Graham have been—" I lose my words. The way they helped me last night. The way this pack has been helping me for years. It's a debt I'll never be able to repay.

She crawls over me, straddling my waist and looking into my eyes. "I'm grateful they could be there when I couldn't. I'm sorry you've been dealing with all this and that my family's bullshit caused it to return in full force. We both gotta learn to talk more about what's happened and why it matters. I don't have any answers. I'm a mess of my own. But I love you and want us to rely on each other and our pack."

"I want that too. I love you so much, and I'm sorry I've not been showing it," I say, overcome with too many emotions to name.

Her lips slot over mine, and it's a drink of water in a desert, feeding my parched soul. It starts soft and sweet, a reunion of our mouths. We explore each other, learning all these new tender places. The bond gets brighter and stronger the longer her lips taste mine.

It turns into a spark and then a flame, our mouths desperate as the bond burns like a lit match of lust. Our tongues flick and swirl, tangling together until I'm breathing her in. She tugs at my shirt, and I sit up, tossing it aside.

"Is this okay?" she asks. "I want to make love to you. I want to feel you?—"

"Yes." A growl rips from my chest, and I pull her closer, taking back her mouth.

I walk my hands up her thighs and under her shirt, fumbling and uncoordinated. I don't know what I'm doing. I never lose control like this, but she feels so fucking right in my arms. I want to get closer, to feel her all around me.

"Breathe, Bear. Slow down." She puts her hands on my neck, holding me in place. Hazel eyes full of fire search mine.

"I'm sorry." I take deep pulls of her scent, trying to calm down.

My cock is hard, aching to be inside her, but she's right. She is my first and only. Even after months together, I don't have a lot of experience. I'm big, and we have to slow down if I want this to be good for her.

"Don't be. I've missed you too, and I love how much you want me. But I want to savor this moment, okay?" She leans in, kissing me slowly until my heart stops racing. "That's better."

She smiles into my lips before pulling back. She tugs off her shirt and tosses it beside mine, exposing her gorgeous body. Red is so fucking sexy, her soft skin scattered with a map of freckles. My hands caress the slight swell of her hips, then up her torso until I can cup her pretty tits. They're full and round, but still small enough that my big hands cover them completely.

Something about that drives me crazy and makes my alpha purr deep in my chest. Sadie moans when I circle one of her nipples with the tip of my finger. I lean in and take the other into my mouth, twirling my tongue around the stiff peak and sucking.

The smell of her perfume mixed with slick floods the space between us, and my sweet omega cries out in pleasure. My cock twitches against my leg. She reaches for me, squeezing me in my sweatpants, then fumbles until she's got them pulled down enough for my cock to spring free. Her hand wraps around my length, and my head falls back at the feel of her touch.

Sadie wiggles on my lap, rubbing herself against me. Her cotton panties are soaked, and I yank them aside to give us room. The fabric rips, so I tear them away, tossing them behind me.

Sadie curses, "Fuck, that's hot."

She rubs her wet pussy along my shaft, covering me in her slick. She notches my cock at her entrance and sinks down, taking only the tip. I grab her hips and hold her steady as she breathes around the stretch.

Even this is so fucking good. It takes all my control not to thrust my hips and sink my cock into her slick heat.

"So good, Bear," she moans.

My fingers dig into the skin of her hips, but I force myself to be still and breathe through the overwhelming pleasure.

Her lips find mine again, her tongue slipping into my mouth. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me as though the world is on fire. The heat of her pussy is fucking heaven, but I wait until she stretches around me, taking a little more of me each time she moves. It feels like forever before she lifts her hips and starts a slow glide.

"I've missed you, Red, missed how right it is when we're together." I kiss along her neck, cupping her ass and holding her to me.

"Yes," she cries, slowly dragging up my cock then sinking back down.

Arms draped across my back, she rides my cock, taking what she needs until her breath comes in shallow pants. She grinds down on me, and my knot swells.

Our eyes lock, and I hold her gaze. Between us, the bond pulses. Time stops. There is only the two of us, locked together. It's a union of forgiveness and understanding, of love and patience. They all pass between us, though no words are spoken.

It's all too much, and I go off. Her pussy squeezes around me, and I lift my hips, thrusting so my knot wedges inside her. I groan as I fill her. She squeezes me in a rush of slick, her back arching and her head falling back.I pull her to me and suck along the skin of her shoulder where my mate bite lives, tending to what I could have lost.

Inside, it is a show of tingling light, a celebration of homecoming.

Red mirrors those thoughts with her words. "It's good to be home, Bear."

And it is. I forgot that for a moment, let myself retreat too far into my head. But I won't forget it again. I repeat the mantra, reminding myself that Sadie loves me, my pack loves me, and this is my home.