“Yup, dad’s somewhere – I’m shocked he hasn’t come running yet,” mom says, dropping Jackson’s hand and fluttering her hand at him. “Rafe’s right – shower for you, and then Ariel is next. Because if your dad meets your mate covered in your blood and your scent – he’s going to flip.”
Jackson, as freaked out as he should be, presses a quick kiss to my head and then stands up. “I’ll be right back,” he says to me, looking down at me with worry. And I grin at him, touched a little – but what does he think, that I’m worried he’s going to run away or something?
“I know,” I murmur, reaching for his hand giving it a little squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”
Jackson hesitates, I think fighting the instincts that tell him to stay absolutely by my side at all times, but then he sighs when Rafe w
