The Alpha’s Forbidden Valkyrie

Chapter 12

Freya’s POV

I don’t know how long I cried, buried in his chest. Time lost all meaning in that dark room, held in his arms. I only focused on his steady, strong heartbeat and that spicy scent of pine and leather that seeped deeper into my cells with every breath. For the first time in my life, I didn't have to be strong. For the first time in my life, someone else was holding my weight.

But the moment couldn't last forever.

Slowly, very slowly, Jax's chest rose with a deep breath, and he gently pulled back. His absence instantly made my skin feel cold. His massive hands slid off my back, but he reached back with one finger and, with surprising delicacy, wiped a stray tear from my cheek.

I looked down in embarrassment, quickly wiping my face with my own hands. My pride, which had abandoned me while I cried, was now beginning to return piece by piece. I felt my face burning with shame.

I had broken down in front of an Alpha.

Jax said nothing about my tears. Instead, he looked me over. His gaze swept down my tattered red velvet dress, covered in mud, dried blood, and the cellar's dust. Gray patches of dirt marred my skin, and my hair clung to my neck in sticky, tangled strands. I felt disgusting.

"We need to wash the cellar dirt off you," he said quietly, but the commanding, uncompromising tone of the pack leader I had come to know was back in his voice. "You need to bathe so your wounds stay clean."

My stomach tied itself into a knot. A bath.

The thought of washing away all the pain and grime of the past few days sounded wonderful. But the reality of what that entailed instantly filled me with panic.

"Fine..." I whispered, clearing my throat to try and steady my voice. "Where is the bathroom? I can manage alone."

I braced myself against the edge of the bed and tried to stand up. My pride dictated that I show him I wasn't completely helpless. But my body thought otherwise. The moment my weight shifted onto my legs, my knees simply gave out. Three days of starvation, blood loss, and exhaustion were now calling in the debt.

The room spun, and I plummeted toward the floor.

A muffled groan escaped my lips, but I never hit the ground. Two rock-hard, searing arms caught me mid-air. Jax was so fast my eyes couldn't even follow his movement. He pulled me tight against his chest, keeping me from collapsing.

"Manage alone, huh?" he grumbled in my ear. There was no mockery in it, just a dark, tense worry. "Stubborn girl. You can't even hold your own weight."

"Let me go," I panted, desperately trying to grip his t-shirt to keep myself upright. His proximity, the heat radiating from his body, was no longer just comforting, but terrifyingly suffocating too. "I can bathe myself. Just... just point the way."

Jax slowly stood me up, but he didn't take his hands off my waist. He knew that if he let go, I would crumble instantly.

His dark eyes bore into mine. I saw the thick, golden flash of the bond in them, and that ancient, possessive instinct radiating from his wolf.

"You don't have the strength to stand on your feet, Freya," he said with ruthless honesty. "If I leave you alone in that bathroom, you will fall from weakness and crack your head on the tiles. Or you'll drown in the water. I will not risk my mate getting hurt. I'm going in with you."

The air caught in my lungs.

"No!" I snapped, my voice trembling from sudden, pure panic. "You can't come in with me! You... you can't be there."

Jax's jaw clenched. He felt my fear, he felt my pulse rocketing at my wrist. He knew exactly what was going through my head. I was a prisoner. He was the pack leader. The thought of stripping naked in front of him, of completely, without any physical barriers, surrendering myself to the man who had kept me on a chain just a few hours ago... it was terrifying.

My eyes filled with tears of helplessness. I tried to back away from him, but his hands held me firm, immovable.

"Please, Jax..." I whispered, my voice breaking on the last word. "Don't ask this of me. I don't want you to... to see me like this. I'm so weak. So pathetic."

The man's face darkened. In his dark irises, the impatience of the beast warred with the man's remaining rationality. His fingers tightened around my waist, as if the mere thought of seeing me without clothes was testing his immense self-control. The bond crackled between us with suppressed desire and tension.

"Listen to me," he began softly, leaning so close to my face that his breath tickled my skin. His voice was deep, vibrating, and filled with the unquestionable command of an Alpha. "I don't care that you feel weak. I don't care about the dirt, and I don't care if you stand before me in rags. You are my mate. There is nothing about you that could be pathetic in my eyes."

He took a deep breath, and his voice softened a fraction.

"I know it's uncomfortable. I know you're afraid of me, and that you hate being so vulnerable. But I won't let you collapse. I will bathe you. I will wash off the blood that your own father, and that I, caused you. This is not a request, Freya. This is the decision of the pack's Alpha. I won't touch you in any way you don't want me to. I swear. I'm just taking care of you."

I had no arguments left. My body trembled with exhaustion, my head throbbed, and I knew he was right. If I went in alone, I wouldn't survive it. But the knowledge that the beast who now claimed half my soul would see all of me... paralyzed me.

I silently closed my eyes and surrendered with a tiny, barely noticeable nod.

Jax didn't hesitate any longer. With one effortless motion, he scooped me into his arms, supporting the back of my knees with one arm and my back with the other. My head fell limply against his shoulder.

He carried me toward the far corner of the room, where a heavy oak door led to the Alpha's private bathroom. As we entered, the sight of dark tiles and a massive, modern shower stall greeted us. Jax set me down on the soft rug next to the sink, keeping one hand on my waist so I wouldn't collapse.

"Start taking your clothes off," Jax whispered, turning his head away as he turned on the shower with his free hand. The hot water hit the dark stone with a loud roar, and steam filled the air in seconds, fogging up the mirrors.

With trembling, ice-cold fingers, I reached for the zipper of my torn red velvet dress at my back. My heart beat so loudly I thought it would jump out of my chest. The tension in the small bathroom was so thick you could almost grab it. The hardest part was yet to come.