by Sara Summers
“Your mate has refused to even shift during the fights.” The man looked at me coldly, and then an icy smile grew on his face. “But that’s why you’re here. You’re giving him a reason to stay alive.”
I spun back to face Haiden, who was staring straight in front of himself with a sick expression.
The crowds were loud, as the second shifter was brought into the arena. They had come to see someone get hurt or die, and they were excited to watch a fight.
It was my last chance to say something. The freak was right—me being there would give Haiden a reason to live, a reason to fight. But he would have to live with the memories, and memories could be worse than injuries a thousand times over. That fact I was well acquainted with.
“Haiden!” I screamed his name, and my mate turned to look at me. “Don’t fight!” The words burned my throat, but I had to say them.
Haiden’s eyes met mine, and I could see the emotion all over his face. He didn’t want to die, but he didn’t want to hurt anyone either.
He met my eyes and nodded once, and I knew that he agreed. Haiden wouldn’t hurt the man who attacked him.
I closed my eyes when the fight started. I couldn’t see Haiden getting beat up, I couldn’t watch him get more bruises and cuts as he suffered more pain.
He must not have been fighting back, that much I knew, because the man behind me was yelling.
“Fight or we’ll kill your mate!” the man yelled. He grabbed me and held a dagger to my throat.
“Don’t do it!” I screamed, partially out of pain because he had my hair knotted in his hand and partially out of fear that Haiden would do something he’d regret.
The wolf he was fighting lunged at him, and Haiden hit the ground hard. He looked at me, desperate for help.
“It’ll be okay!” I promised him, though tears were dripping down my face. I felt a pain in my side, then blacked out yet again.
Chapter 22
“Jazz!” Brooke screamed my name, pulling me back into consciousness.
“What?” I turned my head, groggy and trying to figure everything out. When I saw my best friend leaning over me, I thought that maybe I had been dreaming.
That would be the suckiest morning in the world. Waking up from a completely real dream about a famous painter being the best stinking soulmate in the world…
“Is she okay?” Haiden’s voice was worried.
Thank goodness for his voice—not a dream, definitely not a dream.
And oh dear, that meant I had been stabbed. Not good, really not good.
“She was stabbed, but she’ll be fine. It’s okay, you can rest.” Brooke promised.
Yeah, like she knew. She wasn’t a doctor or nurse or anything near that. She straight-up lied to Haiden, and honestly, I was glad she did. Even if I was dying, I didn’t want him to worry about me. I wanted him to heal and get better no matter what happened to me. The world needed Haiden and his paintings.
“It’s fine, you’ll be fine.” Brooke assured me, holding her hand over the wound. Everything hurt so badly that I couldn’t even feel where said stab wound was.
“You have no idea.” I whispered back. My voice was dry and my throat hurt.
“I have best friend power, and I refuse to let you die so you darn well better show me a smile and send the grim reaper running for the hills.” Brooke said fiercely.
“Did you just threaten an injured person?” I tried to lift an eyebrow, but I was in too much pain everywhere to do it.
“Best friend rights.”
“Being a best friend comes with a lot of perks.” I muttered, though my vision was starting to go black again.
“You’d better believe it.” Brooke’s voice sounded like a whisper. “Jazz, Jazz…” her frantic words faded away as the world disappeared.
Chapter 23
The next time I woke up, I was in the hospital. Haiden and I were in the same room, and I blamed that on Brooke’s best friend power. She wouldn’t have taken no for an answer when it came to putting soulmates in the same room.
When I opened my eyes, Haiden was asleep. There was a needle in my arm, which disturbed me a little, but I avoided looking at it.
Brooke sat in a chair across from my bed. Her head was cradled in her hands, and she was asleep. Though by the position she was in, I assumed her sleep wasn’t all that peaceful. She’d leave with a kink in her neck for sure.
“Brooke?” I whispered. My voice was dry and crackly, but it worked. That was good.
And my voice working meant I wasn’t dead at least, which was also good.
Yeah, not dead=very good.
“Is he okay?” I was desperate to know that my mate was fine, that he would be okay. I was the one who told him not to fight, if he didn’t recover from it, it would be my fault.
“He’s fine.” Brooke opened her eyes and sat up. She groaned when she moved her neck. “What happened?”
“I don’t know, I was unconscious. You’re supposed to know things.”
“Oh, not about that. I meant, what happened to my neck? It kills.” She muttered.
“Well you were sleeping weird.” I pointed out. She rolled her eyes at me. “Anyway, what did happen?”
Brooke raised her eyebrows.
“You fricking scared us, that’s what. You and Haiden disappeared and we had no clue where to find you. Your phones were in some empty barn, there was shredded clothes and blood on the floor…” she shook her head. “We almost postponed the semester again, but Sav said that would only encourage people to start kidnapping us.
“It took a long time, but we = finally figured out that you’d been taken by those whack-jobs. Some special agents found out where you were and went with a whole hoard of them to shut down the fighting ring place. We had to wait in the car until it was safe, which sucked, but they took care of it. It was like a scene from a movie, you totally missed out.
“So yeah, here we are. You’re fine by the way, you didn’t get stabbed that badly—okay, that sounds weird, but whatever. Haiden’s injuries are a lot worse, but he’ll recover.” She promised.
“Wow.” I blinked at her, closing my eyes. “What about the mermaid shifter? Is she okay?” I checked. Brooke hesitated. “Just tell me.”
“She didn’t make it.” Brooke admitted. “There’s actually someone here to talk to you about her…” Brooke hurried to the door and stuck her head outside, calling for someone to come in.
A young male cop or government agent (I can’t remember, it’s all a little hazy. Don’t do drugs, folks) came to stand at the foot of my bed.
“Hello, Miss Day.” He nodded at me.
“Don’t bother with anything formal. I’m Jazz.” I waved it off, and he nodded. His stiff expression softened.
“I was with the mermaid when she died. She didn’t tell me her name, but she gave me a message to deliver. She wanted me to tell you this.”
He handed me a piece of paper, but I couldn’t read it (drugs again) so I handed it back.
“What does it say?” I checked.
Before the man could reply, Brooke spoke up.
“It says ‘thank you’.” Her voice was gentle.
“She had tears in her eyes when she told me about you. She said that you were kind to her when the rest of the shifters tried to kill her, and that you made her feel like she wasn’t a monster. She wanted to thank you in person, but you were unconscious and she had been shot.” The agent/cop explained.
“I wish she’d gotten the chance.” I closed my eyes and wished I could’ve done something for her. I wanted to go back in time and rescue her, I wanted to find out about the shifter-fights before anyone had died.
“You’re a hero, Miss Day.”
“No I’m not.” I shook my head, opening my eyes to peer up at the agent. “I’m just someone who understands.”
The agent left the room and Brooke went with him, leaving me with my thoughts for a few minutes. After everything I’d seen in the last two weeks (though as far as
I could remember, it was just a few days), I wasn’t afraid of my past any more. The things that I’d been through helped me to understand people better.
My past hadn’t broken me, or rather, I had learned how to come back together after breaking. I wanted to teach people how to do the same, but I didn’t know how.
Brooke came back inside the room a few minutes later and we chatted about SUV and some other things, but that thought started gnawing away at the back of my brain. I wanted to teach people what I had learned, but how?
I was distracted from everything when Haiden woke up, though, and the thought vanished. Instead, I got to talk to my soulmate and cuddle with him and let him comfort me while he was the one who really needed to be comforted.
After everything he had been through, cuddling and napping was a much-needed escape from the cruel world we lived in.
Chapter 24
My friends offered to let me teach the Cheetah classes I’d been scheduled for (despite the fact that they had already found a suitable replacement), but I turned down the offer. I needed time to process everything, and Haiden and I didn’t have to worry about money or anything.
I was still sitting in on architecture classes like I’d planned before getting kidnapped (so I could learn how to teach them), but it wasn’t as enjoyable as I thought it would be. I sat at the side of the classroom to observe, but mainly ended up scanning Pinterest behind the textbook. Architecture classes were boring; how had I forgotten that?
The professor lectured on, and my mind floated away from the classroom (lecture hall, I suppose). My hand drifted across the note-paper in front of me, doodling absentmindedly as I stared up at the ceiling. I was in the middle of said-doodling when I had this realization:
I don’t like school.
I had to hold myself back to stop from jumping out of my seat. Was that true? Did I really not like school? I’d done a lot of it, and at a rapid pace. How could I not like school?
Do I even like architecture?
Yes, I liked it, but I didn’t want to do it for the rest of my life. I liked designing cool buildings, not houses and things. I had loved designing SUV, but I wouldn’t want to do that over and over again day after day.
Do I like school?
The question persisted. As hard as it was, I had to admit to myself that no, I didn’t. I didn’t like school, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life teaching at school and giving people homework and grading papers and critiquing buildings they designed.
But if I don’t want that, what do I want?
I stopped for a second and looked down at the paper. On that paper, I had drawn a three-leaf clover.
When I saw that clover, it was like time stopped moving. What did I want? More than anything, what did I want to do?
I wanted to help people. People who had lived through horrible things, like me and the mermaid shifter and the woman who brought me drugged water. I wanted to help broken people get their feet back on the ground and start moving toward being whole again.
I wanted to stop all of the ‘Danger Zone’s out there, I wanted to end the forced fighting that shifters were trapped in.
And as I looked at that three-leaf clover, I knew that would be my slogan. I hadn’t lived my life with a lucky four-leaf clover in my pocket, but I was still okay. I would help others who carried that same unlucky clover.
I didn’t want to be just a cheetah shifter who taught other people about cheetah shifters, I wanted to be the girl who made a difference when they thought their life was over.
Without a word to the professor whose class I was observing, I stuffed my notebook and textbook into my backpack and hurried out the door. I needed to talk to Haiden, needed to ask him for help and get his opinion. If I was going to do this, it would be with his support.
I jumped in the car and sped back home in such a rush that I forgot to lock the car after parking.
I didn’t care though; I was going to change people’s lives.
Chapter 25
“What do you think?” I wondered, still a little out of breath from running up the stairs. I’m sure my hair was crazy, but then again, what’s so bad about crazy hair?
“I think you’re incredible.” Haiden said, engulfing me in a massive hug. My bruised, still slightly-broken soulmate wore a massive smile on his face. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
“I love you.” I looked up into Haiden’s eyes, and I swear, I saw his soul. He was beautiful.
And if you still think that’s creepy, well, get over it ‘cause I’m not changing.
“I love you too.” Haiden pulled me against him, pressing his lips to mine in what was the beginning of one of the longest kisses known to all of mankind. “Can I show you something?” he checked, when we finally broke off the kiss.
“Sure.” I nodded, my smile refusing to budge. I was really going to do it, I was going to be more than a cheetah shifter.
Haiden opened the laptop he’d left on the counter and typed “The Louvre” into the google box. Then he paused.
“Wait.” He warned. “I’m not sure I want to show you.”
“Come on, just do it.” I leaned over his shoulders, putting a kiss right in the middle of his cheek.
“Don’t be mad.” He warned, clicking on a link. I watched as he navigated to a page about new works the museum had added.
“Is one of your paintings in there?” I raised my eyebrows, impressed but not surprised.
“Just give me a second.” Haiden chastised, scrolling down a little more. When his name came up, he clicked on it. I waited for him to say anything, but as soon as he clicked the button, I saw the reasoning behind his telling me not to be mad.
There, next to his name and a picture of his face, was a photograph of Haiden’s newest painting (at least, the newest one he was letting the public see). It was the painting of me, the one that showed my sad but strong eyes.
My jaw dropped open.
“You didn’t.” I breathed.
“That’s what my agent was calling about.” He smiled wryly. “She wanted to know what masterpiece I was going to put in the Louvre. I didn’t know which painting to choose until I met you, then everything made sense. You’re my favorite piece of artwork, and it’s only fair that I let the world see you the way I do.” He said.
I stepped backward, away from him.
“There’s a painting of me, in the Louvre?” I asked, my hands moving almost automatically to cover my mouth.
“Yes.” Haiden stood up.
“Oh my gosh.” I shook my head. “This is insane.” I blinked, only half believing it was true. Me, in the Louvre?
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He decided.
I stepped forward and threw my arms around his neck.
“It was one.” I looked up at him. “Thank you so much. You’re amazing.”
“I try.” Haiden shrugged.
Good gracious, the man was attractive. I pulled his face down to mine and kissed that mine like there was no tomorrow. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I was the luckiest girl in the world.
Epilogue
When I finally looked at the time, I realized that I was going to be late for lunch with Brooke.
She hated it when I was late for lunch and couldn’t stand eating alone.
“I have to go.” I apologized.
Haiden pulled me in for one last kiss, and I called out,
“I love you!” as I ran out the door.
Luckily, I had a fancy parking pass that let me park wherever I wanted. I found a spot right outside the cafeteria building, texted Brooke back, and booked it inside.
When I pulled the door open (the cafeteria was empty at 2, so that’s when we ate), I stopped in my tracks. There was a man standing over an unconscious Brooke, trying to pull her out of her chair.
“Step away from her.” I ordered, grabbing the nearest weapon: a chair.
Was I even buff enough to use the chair as a weapon? Who know
s. Only time would tell.
The guy picked his head up to look at me, then raised his hands.
“I’m her mate.” He apologized. “I’m not trying to hurt her.”
“Then why is she unconscious?” I demanded, still suspicious. He looked like an honest guy, I believed him for the most part. Still, Brooke was out cold. Her face was in her salad, she was that out of it.
“I don’t know. She touched my hand and our coties changed, and now she’s just…” he shrugged, a little lost and a little worried.
“She’s sick a lot.” I relaxed, putting down the chair and deciding that I believed him. “She has low pain tolerance too, so the marks changing was probably just an overload. I bet she’ll wake up any second now.” I walked over to him. “I’m Jazz, Brooke’s best friend.” I introduced myself.
“Ross.” The man nodded. He had a bit of a southern accent, which was cute. Cute for Brooke, I mean—she would be attracted to it, I thought. Me? No way. I liked my men like I liked my paintings.
Haiden Day, that is.
Ha, I really crack myself up. Anyway, right.
“So where are you from?” I asked. Despite my dislike for small talk, I felt obligated to make conversation since this guy would be my best-friend-in-law.
“I’m from the South.” He said, purposefully vague. That was weird, I thought.
“What do you do for a living?” I checked. This time, the question was to make sure the guy was legit.
“I’m an Alpha.” He said.
“Ah.” I nodded.
That wasn’t good. If he was an Alpha from one of the southern states, there was a good chance that he was all about sticking to shifter history, which meant he was against modernizing our culture. In other words, he was against everything my friends and I had been building for the last year and a half.
And well… yikes.
