Atwood
Watching my mate cry makes it feel as though my heart is being ripped from my chest. I never wanted to hurt her, never wanted to make her cry. I never wanted to make her feel so unheard that she would need to resort to this to get me to listen.
The power of the mate bond feels stronger now than ever.
“Ruby,” I mutter, stepping toward her and wrapping my arms around her. She feels tiny and fragile. Her body shivers with a mixture of anger and distress, but I only hug her more tightly until she relaxes into my arms.
I pick her up now and carry her over to my chair, sitting down with her on my lap. She leans heavily against my shoulder as she continues to sob. I say nothing, simply stroking her hair until she calms.
“Just breathe,” I murmur into her ear repeatedly.
