Page 40 of Shattered Trinket
Not like this.
His stress was palpable before, evident in the deep lines etched on his face, a constant reminder of his worry for me and my well-being. And the few times I’ve seen him since gaining my freedom, he’s been noticeably more relaxed. But the peace exuding from him right now is unparalleled. Despite being in an unfamiliar home, he’s sleeping soundly, oblivious to the potential consequences if Mama Valley or one of her alphas were to stumble on him in my bed without warning.
As I approach the side of the bed, a smile creeps onto my lips at the sight before me. This tall, tattooed man with a tough exterior and a typically serious, stressed expression, lying amidst a sea of vibrant stuffed animals on my bed. One stuffed animal, in particular, is tightly clutched behind his head and I shake my head with an amused huff.
My fingers itch to reach out and trace the scar that runs along his cheek like I’ve done so many times now, finding the beauty in this blemish because he survived it.
I can hate the cause of your scars while still finding them beautiful because they’re a part of you.
Emmanuel’s words echo back at me, and I bite my lip as I look at Jeremiah’s scar. I still find him beautiful, find the scar itself beautiful, because it’s a symbol of his triumph. A beacon that he’s a survivor, a fighter. A reminder that he’s still here.
Is that how they’ll all see mine? Will they see me as a fighter, or will I always be viewed as this shattered, broken thing?
Succumbing to the urge, I cautiously climb up onto the bed, careful not to move around too much as I settle on my kneesat his side and extend my hand. Delicately, I run my finger along the raised skin, starting at the bottom where the scar tissue is thickest. It isn’t entirely smooth, its roughness and imperfections familiar under the tip of my finger, and I trace the line all the way up until it disappears into his hairline. Unable to resist, I carefully touch Jeremiah’s hair, closing my eyes and savoring the way the soft strands glide between my fingers.
Completely lost in the captivating presence of the alpha in my bed, I startle when his hand suddenly tightens around my hip, jolting me back to reality. With sleepy eyes and a quirked brow, he looks up at me when my eyes pop open and dart down to his face, a soft smile playing on his lips.
I snatch my hand back, my ears burning with embarrassment reminiscent of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. With a chuckle, Jeremiah playfully tugs me towards him, and within moments, I’m lying comfortably across his chest, heart pounding and belly fluttering. With every passing second, my cheeks burn hotter, and the thunderous rhythm of my heart threatens to break free from its confines as his blue eyes capture mine and hold me hostage. Just as I’m about to lift myself up, he clasps his arms around me, refusing to budge. His unwavering stare pierces into mine, his eyes daring me to move from my perch before I finally give in, exhaling in exasperation and a playful roll of my eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were here? I would have come out to get you,” I murmur softly, delicately placing my hands higher on his chest so I can rest my chin on them as I gaze up at him.
He shrugs, giving me a quick squeeze that sends a wave of warmth through my body and makes my stomach tingle more with the flurry of butterflies that seem to always be present when I’m with him.
“I figured I’d be nosy while I had the chance. Give myself a leg up on your other alphas,” he murmurs sleepily, and my eyes widen as I nearly choke on my tongue.
“I don’t… I mean, they’re not… You…,” I stutter out, completely unsure of what to even say right now.
“You know me better than this by now, Dove,” he whispers, bringing his hand up to trace the side of my face before wrapping a loose curl around his finger and gently tugging on it, rubbing the end between his fingers. “They seem… nice. And their backgrounds are clean,” he mutters, brows furrowing as he frowns.
I gasp and lightly smack him on the chest.
“You poked around in their lives? How did you even know about them?”
When I scowl disapprovingly at him, his frown deepens, as if prying into Ridge, Zeke, and Emmanuel’s personal lives is a completely normal thing to do.
“Of course, I did. I won’t take chances with your life, Cozette. Not again. Not now that I have you and you’re safe. I just wanted to make sure they were as squeaky clean as they appeared.”
I groan and rest my forehead against him, heaving a sigh.
“How did you even know about them? I’ve barely spoken to them,” I grumble against his chest, which shakes when he laughs.
“I’m the Ghost, Dove. I’m always lurking around, especially when I show up early to see my girl and find three unknown men staring at her with the same lovesick look I know I’ve had for over a year now.”
When our eyes meet again, I can’t help but notice the mischievous glint in his eyes and the sly smile forming on his lips. He’s relaxed beneath me, his grip firm but not painful, and he doesn’t seem to be upset. But what do I know about men at this point in my life?
“Are you mad?”
My voice comes out in a timid whisper, and his brows shoot up, his lips parting in surprise as he stares at me.
“Why would I be mad at you, Cozette? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
I shrug, looking down at his chest, but of course, he doesn’t let me get away with that. He lifts my chin and makes me look at him, his eyes searching my face.
“I don’t own you, Dove. I would never tell you who you can and cannot be with. All I want is to make sure you won’t be harmed ever again. You’re my omega, but you’re not only mine, and I know that. Expected it, even. I’m just happy you want me, too. But if you didn’t, if you ever decide I’m not who you want to be with, I’d still watch out for you. It doesn’t matter if you’re with me or not, I will always make sure you’re happy and taken care of.”
Tears well up in my eyes, making them burn and turning my vision hazy with each word he utters. He keeps his gaze locked on mine, refusing to let me avert my eyes even for a moment. It’s like he has something to prove, and that proof lies solely in the depths of his eyes.
“You promise?”