HIRAM’S POV:
When I have given the orders, I make my way to my room. I walk in to find June sitting quietly on my bed. The soft light filtering through the curtains casts shadows over her face, but even from here, I can see the tension in her posture.
My gaze lingers on her for a few seconds before she looks up and realizes I’m there.
“You are here,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper, and I shut the door, the sound echoing in the silent room. Without hesitation, I walk toward her.
As I close the space between us, she tilts her head up to meet my eyes. The air between us feels heavy, and her eyes look darker than usual. I run my hands gently over the skin beneath them, searching for tears, but they’re dry. It doesn’t matter-I can feel her pain radiating from her.
“You must be tired after a long day. Take off your clothes, so you can get some rest,” I say in a soft voice. She nods obediently and rises to her feet, her movements almost robotic.
She pulls her clothes off piece by piece until she’s left in just her underwear. I grab her clothes from the bed, taking a moment to fold them as though the act might soothe her frayed nerves. I walk to the closet and pick out her favorite top-the one she’s claimed as her own.
Returning to her, I take her hands in mine, raising them gently so I can pull the top over her head. It falls into place, draping over her body like it was made for her. Once she’s covered, I lean down and plant a soft kiss on her forehead, unbuttoning my shirt.
She reaches out, her fingers brushing against my skin before I pull away completely. Then she mashes her lips with mine. At first, it’s tentative, but within moments, it deepens, her hands sliding into my shirt as if she’s trying to hold on to me. I feel her desperation; her need to escape her own mind, and for a moment, I let her.
But then I stop.
Something about this feels wrong-not because of her, but because I can sense her pain. I pull back slightly, breaking the kiss, and taking a moment to look into her eyes.
“Do not worry about me, Hiram, please just kiss me. I need to get out what happened today, and maybe drowning in romance with you can help.”
Her voice trembles.
I hesitate, but the anguish in her eyes makes it impossible to refuse her. I lean in and kiss her again, letting her guide me. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer. My hands find her waist, and I pull her to me, but the moment our bodies press together, she gasps, letting out a sharp, startled sound. Then she pushes against my chest.
“June, are you okay?” I ask immediately, with my eyes scanning hers.
She nods quickly, her movements jerky as she grabs my hands and lowers them to her back.
“Sorry… I must have been caught up in the situation. I didn’t mean to push you away,” she says in a small voice. Then, as if to prove her words, she presses her lips against mine again.
I follow her lead cautiously, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around my waist as I carry her to the bed. I place her down gently and pull away, taking off my shirt as she gazes at me.
With one pull, my shirt is off, and I lean down to claim her lips again. My kisses trail down her neck, moving toward her ear. My hands glide up her thighs.
“You are so sexy,” I whisper, my breath hot against her ear.
I expect her to melt into me, to let out a soft sigh, but her hand connects with my face in a resounding slap.
The sound hangs in the air, and we both freeze. Her eyes go wide, horror dawning on her face as she realizes what she’s done.
“Hiram… I… I am sorry,” she stammers, her voice shaking. Tears spill over, streaking her cheeks as she struggles to explain. “I… I cannot get that image out of my head, and I thought I could get some sleep once I get off, but I was wrong. It…”
“Shh,” I say softly, brushing my thumb across her lips to stop her from speaking.
I take a deep breath and shift, lying back on the bed and pulling her completely on top of me. Her small frame trembles against me, and I hold her close, wrapping my hand around her body as she rests her cheek and hands on my chest.
“I am truly sorry for what happened in that office, and I do not think I can ever forgive myself for letting you go off like that,” I say in a low voice.
“Hiram…” she whispers, her breath shuddering against my chest.
“It is my fault, June, because it is my duty to protect you, and I let you down. But do not worry, because Victor will get what he deserves, and you will never have to worry about him,” I make a vow to her.
“If there is really anything you want to talk about, I am here. We mustn’t have sex for you to get through today. I am here if you need to talk through it..”
Her free hand brushes against my face, and she presses her cheek harder against my chest. I let her stay like that, offering her my silence until she’s ready.
When she finally speaks, her voice cuts through me like a blade.
“Do I deserve the worst things in life?”
“No… what are you talking about?” I ask, my brows slightly creasing.
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact I am a magnet for trouble. I can’t seem to get out of it, because in every corner, there seems to be a man waiting to prey on me for being too small, and weak…” Her voice cracks, and it shreds through me. She goes on, “I never really had a boyfriend before Cillian, because my dad was overprotective, and when I had Cillian, he never pressured me to have sex with him. He was this angel, and I regret finding out about him and Susan. Maybe everything would still be falsely perfect. Then there is Larry, who constantly harasses me.”
The name sends an icy rage spiraling through me. My body tenses, and I fight to keep my voice steady.
“He still harasses you?” I demand, my brows furrowing as my jaw tightens.
She shakes her head quickly.
“Not at the moment, but it cannot erase what he has done. Each time he walks into the bakery, and I see him, I get these little anxiety flares.” Her voice carries an undeniable weight.
I slide my hand up her back, drawing slow, soothing circles with my palm. She clings to me, her tears soaking into my chest. The more she talks, the harder I commit each name she mentions to memory.
Larry. Cillian. Victor. Each of them deserves to suffer for what they’ve done.
“But you know things weren’t always like this. When I had my dad, he would go almost everywhere with me. I was his little princess…” She sniffs, her voice growing wistful, before it cracks under the weight of her grief. “But things went wrong when he died. He had cancer, and the doctors said he was getting better and all, then one day I woke up and he was dead.”
Her words dissolve into sobs, twisting inside me until I absorb her pain in me. I can’t just lie here anymore. I sit up abruptly, shifting her onto my lap with her legs draped across mine. My hands cup her tear-streaked face, forcing her to meet my gaze.
“There is nothing wrong with you, June,” I say. “And I will always be here to protect you. I am sorry for the past, and I wish I had been there sooner.”
She clutches at my arms, her fingers digging into my skin as if she’s afraid I might slip away.
“You are perfect, June, and those men are the problem,” I continue in a steady voice. “Every woman has the right to say no to sexual advances. They are just perverted, and they need to be taught a lesson. I know my words cannot erase the past, but I promise to always be here for you, June. I will never let anyone hurt you again. I swear.”
She presses her lips to mine suddenly, her tears spilling between us. I don’t pull away this time. Instead, I wrap my arms around her tightly, holding her close as her sobs rack her body. I let her cry, her tears staining my face, and I don’t move until she finally starts to calm down.
When she pulls back, her breathing is uneven, but her eyes hold a flicker of relief. I cradle her against my chest, wiping away her tears with gentle strokes of my thumb.
“I am an asshole for making you cry today too,” I whisper, my guilt pressing against me. “And if it means anything to you, I have nothing to do with Lola, and will never. I cannot even place her face. That day, I was out to get coffee, and I ran into her. Then she wanted us to meet and talk, but I didn’t. Rather, I asked she text her questions to you, and I swear it was a very brief talk.”
This time, I tell her nothing but the truth. She deserves to hear this one. Even if there are still pieces of my identity, I can’t reveal yet. She is so fragile that I can’t imagine what it would do to her to learn she’s dating a werewolf.
“I love you,” I say in a low tone, the words slipping out with an intensity I can’t control. I kiss her forehead, putting every word I cannot say out loud into it.
She doesn’t respond, and she doesn’t need to. Her arms wrap around me again, one hand pressed to my bare chest, the other gripping my waist. Her head rests against me, her breathing gradually evening out as exhaustion takes hold.
I stay like that for what feels like hours, holding her, letting her know she’s safe. When I’m sure she’s asleep, I carefully loosen her grip on me and lower her onto the bed.
I press a kiss to her forehead, then I stand.
The silence is interrupted by the faint beep of her phone on the nightstand. My eyes flick to it, and the screen lights up with a message.
“Hey, it’s Troy. The guy who gave you his card at the bakery yesterday. Well, I got your number from Sally. I was wondering why you didn’t text, but then pretty ladies shouldn’t text first, and I am sorry for being rude and not asking for your number. Would you love to get a drink tomorrow, or maybe lunch?”
My body tenses, my fists clenching at my sides as I read the message to the end. The ugly, unmistakable feeling claws its way to the surface: jealousy.
But she didn’t text him back, I remind myself, trying to quell the surge of possessiveness.
Still, it’s not enough.
I grab her phone, slide it open, and without a second thought, I delete the message.
She will never text him back.
And he will never get the chance to know her the way I do.