FRAGILE

Chapter 14: Not a Number

Maximus sat with his side resting against the tub, watching his mate quietly. The boy's small form was curled up in the warm bath, the water now cooling as the moments passed, but Maximus couldn't bring himself to disturb the brief serenity his mate seemed to be feeling. He had been so fragile, so broken, yet there was something about him that pulled at Maximus's heart in ways he couldn't explain. The connection was undeniable, the bond tugging at him, but there was still a distance, an invisible barrier forged from years of torment and training.

The boy hadn't spoken much since he'd been pulled from that hellhole of an auction. Not really. Every word was rehearsed, robotic, as if the essence of who he was had been stripped away. Maximus clenched his fists, the thought filling him with a mixture of rage and sorrow.

His mate began to move, his delicate features tight with exhaustion. His hands floated under the surface of the water, trembling slightly as he shifted his position. It was time. Maximus had been waiting for the right moment to ask—hoping that maybe, just maybe, he could begin to break through the barriers holding his mate captive.

"What's your name, mate?" Maximus's voice was soft, tender as he asked the question. His wolf stirred within him, wanting to know more about the boy they were destined to protect.

The boy blinked, his gaze distant, as if the question hadn't registered. He stared at the water, his brow furrowing as he struggled to process the simple inquiry.

"2197," he whispered, his voice so soft that Maximus almost didn't catch it.

Maximus's heart sank. 2197. That damned number again. It wasn't a name. It was a brand, a mark of ownership, a chain wrapped around his mate's very soul. Maximus leaned forward, his hand resting gently on the boy's arm, trying to convey with his touch what he couldn't yet say.

"No, love. Your real name," he said, his voice even softer now, filled with all the warmth and care he could muster. He wasn't demanding, wasn't forcing. He was simply trying to reach the person buried beneath the scars.

The boy turned to look at him, his eyes wide with confusion. Maximus could see it—the uncertainty, the deep-rooted fear. The boy had been trained to forget himself, to erase whatever identity he had once held. And now, when asked to reclaim it, he didn't understand.

"I don't understand, sir," the boy replied, his voice shaking. His eyes, those clear, blue eyes, searched Maximus's face, looking for an answer he couldn't find on his own. The confusion twisted into something sharper—panic—and suddenly the boy whimpered, his hands flying up to grip the sides of his head.

Maximus's heart lurched as he watched the boy crumble in front of him, the weight of the question too much for his fragile mind to bear. Without hesitation, Maximus leaned forward and pulled his mate into his lap, ignoring the water that soaked through his pants. That didn't matter. All that mattered was the boy trembling in his arms, caught in a storm of confusion and fear.

"Shh, it's okay," Maximus whispered, cradling him close. His fingers brushed gently through the boy's damp hair as he tried to soothe him. "You're safe now. You're safe with me."

The boy's body was tense, rigid with the weight of emotions he didn't know how to process. Maximus could feel it—his mate was breaking under the pressure. He held him tighter, refusing to let go, willing his warmth and presence to ground the boy, to pull him back from whatever edge he was teetering on.

Then, suddenly, something shifted. A whisper—soft, faint—reached Maximus's mind, so quiet that he thought he might have imagined it.

Levi.

The name echoed in his head, and Maximus froze, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn't just a name; it was more than that. It felt like an answer, a key to the boy's identity, the piece he had been searching for. But the whisper wasn't just a name—it was a plea.

Maximus's wolf surged to the surface, demanding control, and Maximus let him in. His vision shifted, sharpening as his wolf took over for a brief moment. In his mind's eye, Maximus saw a tiny white wolf standing before his own large, midnight-black form. The small wolf was trembling, fragile, but there was strength in its eyes—a desperate determination.

We are Levi, the white wolf whispered, its voice filled with urgency. I don't have much time, but please help him. He's been broken, and only you can save us. I'm trapped under the Training Master's commands. Levi will obey you completely. Tell him to release me. Please...

The vision faded as quickly as it had come, and Maximus blinked, finding himself back in the present, the boy still trembling in his lap. His wolf retreated, leaving Maximus to process the new information, but the message was clear. His mate—Levi—was trapped, locked away by the cruel training he had endured, unable to connect with his wolf because of the commands forced upon him.

Maximus looked down at the boy—Levi, he corrected himself—and gently brushed a lock of wet hair away from his forehead. "Levi," he whispered, testing the name, watching closely for any reaction.

The boy stirred, his body tensing as if the name triggered something deep inside him. His face twisted in confusion, his brow furrowing as if he didn't quite understand what was happening. Slowly, his eyes opened, and he blinked up at Maximus, still dazed from the flood of emotions.

"Levi?" Maximus said again, more certain this time.

Levi's eyes darted around, still clouded with confusion, but there was something else now—something familiar, like the faintest spark of recognition. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Maximus felt a surge of hope bloom in his chest. He was getting through. He had to be. Carefully, he shifted Levi in his arms, adjusting his grip to make him more comfortable. "I know this is all overwhelming," Maximus said, his voice gentle but firm. "But you're safe now. You're not a number. You're not 2197. You're Levi. That's your name. You belong to yourself now."

Levi didn't respond, at least not verbally, but Maximus could see the faint flicker of something in his eyes—confusion, yes, but also a tiny glimmer of recognition. Maximus's heart swelled with determination. He would take that small spark and nurture it, slowly but surely.

For now, Levi was still too fragile to fully understand the gravity of the bond between them, but Maximus knew he would protect him, guide him through this dark chapter, and slowly help him reclaim the life he had lost.

"Let's get you more comfortable," Maximus murmured, standing and carrying Levi to the tub, which he had just refilled with warm water. Gently, he lowered Levi into the soothing warmth, watching as the tension in his small frame began to ease. The water enveloped him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Levi's muscles relaxed.

Maximus knelt beside the tub, his hands resting on the edge as he watched his mate closely. He still couldn't quite believe the horror Levi had been through—how deeply broken the boy had become—but there was hope now. There was a name. There was Levi.

As the warm water soothed Levi's body, Maximus allowed himself to feel a quiet joy. He had found his mate, and though it would take time, he would help Levi find himself again. One step at a time, he would show him that he was more than a slave, more than a number. He was his mate, and he was loved.

Levi would heal. Maximus would make sure of it.