Half-Blooded | The Dark Child Prophecy Series [✔️]

Chapter 41.5: Scars [Part 2]

I hurried up the stairs, my grip holding tight to Jason's hand. His warm fingers felt hot compared to mine that were cold in fear. I pressed away the thoughts of my father being locked up in the brig. The memory of the distant past now echoed through the halls once more, reminding everyone of the danger of a white monster made of fur and fangs.

Losing control had been one of his biggest fears when he had first tried to learn how to handle his lycan changes. My mother had forgiven him decades before for losing himself, and had become the sole person who could break through his other persona when he lost himself to the wolf-like beast under his skin.

And because of me, she'd put herself in between him and the world once again.

I led Jason up to the third floor to my room. Once I got the door open, he followed me inside before locking it behind him. I went into the bathroom and began to run the cold water from the faucet.

"Seren," he whispered, standing in the doorway, his face sullen.

I held a washcloth beneath the cool water and then rung it out. "Let me put this on your face," I said softly, pointing to the toilet's closed lid.

He sighed and nodded, doing as he was told. He sat down, and I began to dab at the wounds carefully. The mark on his chin had split the skin slightly, a tiny bit of blood welled on its surface. I stood with my legs staggered between his, one hand on his shoulder as the other held the cloth to his face.

"I'm sorry, Jay. This is why I was afraid for you to be here," I whispered.

Jason closed his eyes in a slight wince when I dabbed at the open cut on his jaw. Once the stinging quit, he opened his eyes again to look up at me. "No, I'm glad he did that. I don't want him to come after you," he answered me. "I don't want any ill-will against your father or your family, but he tried..." He trailed off and looked down, his head shaking.

He ran his hands up the outsides of my thighs and pulled my hips towards him, his forehead resting against my stomach. "He wanted to kill this," he finished, his voice a hoarse whisper, meaning the bond that tied us together. He sighed deeply, and I lost it. All the resolve I had left me, and I threaded my fingers through his hair at the back of his head, my other hand still holding the wet washrag to his jaw.

The tenderness between us was enough to make my heart melt. I'd forgotten what our bond felt like. His feelings tumbled through my body, begging to keep me safe from everyone and everything. He was terrified that I would be forced to shun our connection, effectively killing what love we held for one another.

Jason tipped his head, kissing my stomach gently, and I shuddered. My head dropped back and my eyes closed. His lips were warm, and I could feel them through my shirt. His hands gripped my hips tighter as he pulled me down.

Clumsily, I managed to straddle his lap, dropping the washcloth onto the bathroom counter. My hands laced themselves in his hair as I settled on his lap. He continued kissing up my torso before he leaned his head up, kissing me fully on the mouth. I inhaled as a spike of heat hit my chest. His fingers gripped my hips, one hand sliding up my back and into my hair. My mouth opened under his and I whimpered softly with need. I pressed my body against his, my hands holding onto him tighter.

I don't want to lose this, I thought, gasping softly when he pulled his mouth from mine to begin kissing my neck.

Jason gripped my thighs, slowly standing and bringing me up with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and let him carry me back into my bedroom. He continued to place kisses along my throat and collarbone. Carefully, he lowered me down onto the bed, bringing his mouth back up to mine for a longer, deeper kiss. He broke away and began to kiss down my body, his hands working on undoing my jeans before he ran them up my sides for the hem of my shirt.

"Wait," I whispered, grabbing his wrists. Fear filled me again. He didn't know. He didn't know what I'd become.

He paused, drawing back from bending over me. "Serenity, it's okay. We can go slow," he answered before placing a kiss on my sternum.

I winced and shook my head as my eyes clenched shut. "That's—that's not it. I don't want you to see them," I breathed. I opened my eyes, looking up at him. I didn't want him to see the damage that had been done.

"See what, sweetheart?" he asked, frowning.

My head shook.

"It's okay," he promised again. "You can tell me anything."

I let go of his hand and wiped the sudden tears from my bottom lashes. I sat up slightly. I picked up the hem of my shirt slowly to expose the terrible, knotted scars beneath it. Avoiding his gaze, I drug the material up just enough to show part of the cut from the silver razor-blade Victoria had used. It was long, clean, but not all of them were so uniform.

"I didn't want you to see how awful they are," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat when I tried to talk.

"Oh, baby," Jason whispered, his brow furrowing in worry. He sunk down onto his knees as he bent down and kissed my stomach again, his lips trailing along the scar gently. "I'm so sorry," he murmured against my skin. He placed another kiss there before coming up to kiss me on the mouth. "Please, let me look," he whispered. "I need to know."

I laid there for a moment, my eyes closing in a quiet cringe at the idea. I slowly reached down for the hem of my shirt again and pulled it up. He helped me get it over my breasts and lifted it free from my body, the sleeves catching on my hands. I looked away when I saw his eyes begin to rove over my torso, counting them.

Five were placed along my ribs, three on my right and two on my left. Two slices had remained on my waist, just above my right hip from the muscle biopsy. They were jagged and pink from uneven cuts. Two more, tinier in size, peeked out from beneath my pants' waistband.

Jason made a soft growl before sighing as his hands gently traced beside each one. "Oh, Serenity... I can't believe they did this to you," he said softly, but I still winced at the sound of his voice.

"They're awful," I whispered. "They didn't heal like the others did. I was too drained. And they're ugly."

He shook his head. "No, sweetheart, they're not ugly. I'm so sorry," he said again. He leaned down and began to kiss my ribs tenderly and then my sternum. He looked up to turn my arms so he could see the faded bruising and track marks from where the restraints had been placed on my wrists and needles left under my skin.

"I hate her," he hissed, his head still shaking. "I can't believe she allowed this. That she did this," he finished. I knew he meant Victoria. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, Serenity."

Jason began to kiss my torso again, his mouth gentle. His hands ran down my sides, gripping my hips gently before he braced his weight onto his palms and kissed his way back up to my neck. "I wish I had known. I could've... I could've made it better," he whispered as he kissed my throat before his mouth found mine, hard and possessive.

I inhaled through my nose, my legs hitching onto his hips. I gripped his face in my hands, arching up to meet his body with mine. I needed him. My knees slid down the outsides of his thighs as my hands began to work his shirt up. He pulled away, yanked it over his head, and tossed it to the floor before coming back down to me.

He kissed me on the mouth again and then my neck, his lips trailing along my collarbone and in between my breasts before tracing along my stomach. His hands found my waistband, sliding the jeans down my legs to the floor, taking my ballet flats with them.

I pushed myself halfway up into a sit to watch him as he pushed his pants down to join mine on the floor. He stepped out of them and his shoes, then began to kiss my thighs.

"I love you," I murmured.

He sighed in response as he reached up to slip his fingers between mine, squeezing gently. "And I love you," he whispered.