POV: SAINT
I felt completely exhausted.
It appears that Ava is intent on mentally breaking me, and I can't deny that she's succeeding. Today, the witch would arrive for Marcus' treatment, and I was reluctant to accompany Jackson, fearing my own madness would spoil the moment. And I made the right choice.
Ava has invaded my thoughts a few times, but her commands never goes too far. I always found myself halted at the doorstep by Tom. The constant back-and-forth was so exhausting that staying awake was becoming a challenge.
Despite everything, a glimmer of hope remained. When Marcus wakes up, we would finally uncover the mastermind behind this exhausting games and bring it to a close.
"Saint,"
A voice broke through, one I recognized. It wasn't the familiar whisper echoing in my mind; this sounded like someone calling me from outside the door. Nonetheless, it still made me break into a sweat.
"Saint?"
The voice came again. "Yes?" I replied, genuinely hoping it wasn't Ava returning.
"I'm going to take Tom to grab something from my place. Are you going to be okay?" I recognized it as Samantha's voice.
"O-okay, I'll be fine," I responded.
"Don't worry, Jackson will be here soon. Alright?"
"Alright," I responded, feeling the silence settle around me as I noticed their footsteps fading away. The house was so eerily quiet that I almost forgot Samantha was still here with us. I had already told Jackson I didn't want Aunt Cee and Beth visiting today because I couldn't bear the thought of any more humiliation. The pack must think I'm losing my mind after that embarrassing scene yesterday.
"Saint~~"
Not this again. I glanced at the clock. Shouldn't Jackson have returned by now? Is it really taking this long to tend to Marcus? I quickly wiped the sweat that was trickling down my neck.
"Saint, I had planned to make you the infamous Luna who murdered his own mate and succumbed to guilt, but never mind. I'm finished with the games~~"
"P-please, s-stop." I managed to stammer. "I-I promise I'll do anything you want, but please, don't force me to kill Jackson. P-please." Tears streamed down my face as I found myself rising from the floor, pacing anxiously.
The small voice let out a chuckle. "I'm thinking of ways to end your life. How would you like Jackson to discover your lifeless body?~~"
I was at a loss for words, reverting back to silence. "If I tell you to stab yourself, it would take too long, and Jackson would arrive before you die. Aha, head to Jackson's bathroom, Saint~~"
My legs started moving on their own. I opened the door and made my way directly to Jackson's room. The house was eerily silent, devoid of any presence. I stepped into his bathroom and paused, waiting for instructions.
"Good, Saint. Now, fill the bathtub with water~~" I complied, letting the water pour in until it began to spill over the edges.
"Get in and lie down. I want you to drown, Saint. Just close your eyes and drift off into the water~~"
I slipped into the tub and reclined, my body sinking beneath the surface. I squeezed my eyes shut and submerged completely, holding my breath as a suffocating pressure gripped my chest, urging me to take a breath in a place devoid of air.
Suddenly, I felt myself being pulled from the water and embraced. "What were you doing, Saint?" Jackson's anxious voice broke through my daze.
Then everything faded to black.
«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«
I jolted awake, my head pounding fiercely. It dawned on me that I wasn't in my own room but in Jackson's. I could hear him and Chris talking just outside. As I sat up and rubbed my temples, fragments of memory flooded back—Ava had attempted to drown me. My clothes were dry, replaced by one of Jackson's shirts.
The door creaked open, revealing only Jackson as he stepped inside. "Are you alright?" he inquired as he drew closer to me.
"I think so." I croaked out. "Thank you for saving me, once again," I replied, meeting his gaze.
"Don't dwell on it. Are you feeling hungry?" His question coincided perfectly with the growl of my stomach. After Ava's relentless attacks throughout the day, I hadn't had a chance to eat anything.
I nodded in response, and he went back out. Moments later, he returned with a tray brimming with an array of food, mostly meats, and some fruits. I began to eat while he settled down to observe me. If I weren't so hungry, I might have felt shy under his watchful gaze.
Once I finished, he took the tray away and exited the room. Glancing at the clock, I noticed it was 9:15 PM. How long had I been out? And what about Marcus? Had he revealed to Jackson who was behind all this?
When Jackson reentered, I immediately posed my first question to which he let out a sigh. "He doesn't remember anything."
"What?" My voice trembled.
"Marcus has lost his memories. The last thing he recalls is being locked up for the first time and then set free. He doesn't even remember that Ava planned the attacks."
As soon as those words escaped his lips, all my hopes for this whole thing to be over crumbled.
"So we're starting from scratch?"
"Unfortunately, yes. But I have a strategy. We'll ask the witch to go into your mind and tell us the identity of the child behind the whispers, and then we'll compel that child to reveal who influenced them."
I let out a sigh of resignation. At least there was a plan in motion.
"You need to get some rest. The witch will arrive first thing in the morning." I attempted to rise and retreat to my room, but his voice stopped me. "Stay here. I don't want you to be alone."
I gave a slight nod and nestled back into the comfort of the bed, enveloped by his familiar scent that wrapped around me like a warm blanket. "I'll be right back," he said before heading into the bathroom. Moments later, I could hear the sound of the shower running.
Lying there, I found myself staring at the ceiling, burdened by heavy thoughts. Two lives were lost because of Ava's attacks on me, Marcus had nearly died, and I had made an attempt on Jackson's life. I had even come close to taking my own today, and if it weren't for Jackson, I might have.... My eyes began to blur, and I quickly blinked to clear them.
What if the witch doesn't hold the answers? What if Ava eventually succeeds, and I end up taking my own life—or even worse, Jackson's? I couldn't rely on him to save me every time. Had I not joined this pack and become Jackson's mate, perhaps things wouldn't have spiraled so far out of control for everyone involved.
In truth, I had become the very burden I vowed not to be.
When the sound of the shower stopped, I quickly turned onto my side, facing away from the bathroom door and stifling my sobs so he wouldn't hear me. I heard some shuffling and the click of the light switch before feeling the bed shift as he climbed in. The room was still dimly lit.
As he slipped under the covers, his arm draped over me, pulling me close so that my back rested against his chest. "I know you're crying, Saint," he murmured, enveloping me in a comforting embrace.
"Are you worried about tomorrow?" he asked softly.
I gave a slight nod. "I- I'm really scared. What if the witch can't help us? What if—" Jackson gently turned me to face him. Being taller than me, he cradled my face in his hands, tilting it up so our eyes could lock.
"If he can't help, I'll find someone who can. I won't stop searching until I do. You don't need to worry, Saint. I'll be right here with you. We'll get through this together, okay?" His voice was soothing as he continued to hold my face. Tears threatened to spill as I nodded in response.
"Don't isolate yourself or blame yourself for any of this. It's not your fault." He offered a small smile while glancing at my lips, which made me acutely aware of how close we were. His nose, lips—everything—was just inches away. His gaze fell to my lips again before he captured them with his own. My hands instinctively grasped his shirt as I melted into the kiss, feeling a rush of warmth and excitement.
With half his body enveloping mine, he drew me even closer, one hand resting on my waist while the other held my cheeks. He kissed me deeply, sending shivers racing down my spine, and I couldn't help but moan into the kiss.
He drew back, locking his gaze with mine as we both attempted to calm our breaths. "Get some sleep," he said, clearing his throat before reclining back onto the bed. I didn't feel like sleeping; I craved more. I wanted us to share more kisses, for him to wrap his arms around me.
He tucked the blankets around me. "You need to rest. We have no idea how tomorrow's going to be."
Deep down, I understood he was correct; I needed to recharge physically, mentally, and emotionally. Sleep could help with that, yet only he had the power to nurture my emotional state. I nestled in close to him, breathing in his scent and whispering a soft goodnight as I drift off.