Chapter 3

"Done," Ada said, tying off the final knot. She snipped the thread with a small pair of scissors and taped a sterile pad over the wound.

She sat back, wiping her bloody hands on a towel. The adrenaline crash hit her all at once, making her knees tremble.

"You should... you should drink some water," she stammered, standing up. "I'll get you a bottle from the cooler."

She turned to leave, desperate to retreat to the safety of her invisibility. She had just touched the pack’s golden boy. She had sewn him back together. The reality of it was terrifying.

"Don't."

The voice was rough, like gravel tumbling down a hill, but it was human.

Jax caught her hand again. This time, his grip wasn't bruising. It was desperate.

He pulled her back. Ada stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the bench, ending up standing between his spread knees.

She looked down. The violet was gone. His eyes were hazel again—a warm, golden-brown that looked at her with a terrifying intensity.

"Jax?" she breathed. "Are you back?"

"Why weren't you afraid?" he asked. He didn't let go of her hand. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, tracing the tendons. "Marcus ran. They all ran. You stayed."

Ada looked at their joined hands. His was large, calloused, scarred. Hers was small and red from the cold water of the mop bucket.

"I couldn't leave you," she said honestly. "You were hurting."

"I could have killed you," Jax said. "I wanted to kill everything in this room."

"I know," Ada shrugged, a small, self-deprecating smile touching her lips. "But... I'm just Ada. I’m the water girl. I guess I figured I was too boring to eat."

Jax frowned. His brows drew together, a storm cloud passing over his face. "Boring?"

He reached up with his other hand. His fingers were hot against her neck as he cupped her jaw, tilting her face up to the light.

"You aren't boring," he murmured. "You’re the only thing that made sense. When the red took over... it was just noise. Screaming. Fire. And then you touched me."

He stepped closer, or pulled her closer—she wasn't sure which. The smell of rain and Tiger Balm swirled around them, intoxicating.

"You were quiet," Jax whispered, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. "You were an anchor. You stopped the world from spinning."

Ada’s heart hammered against her ribs, but this time, it wasn't fear. "Jax..."

"Plain," he scoffed, answering a thought she hadn't spoken aloud. "You are the furthest thing from plain, Ada."

He leaned in. The movement was slow, giving her a thousand chances to run. She didn't run. She didn't want to run.

When his lips met hers, it wasn't the kiss of a warrior or a beast. It was soft. Tentative. A question asked in the silence of the locker room.

Ada closed her eyes and leaned into him. He tasted of mint and iron. He felt solid and warm and undeniably *hers*. For a moment, the locker room dissolved. There was no pack, no hierarchy, no Blood Rage. Just the healer and the fighter, balancing each other out.

When they broke apart, Jax rested his forehead against hers. He let out a long, shuddering breath, the last of the tension leaving his body.

"My friends are idiots," he muttered.

Ada laughed, a breathy, startled sound. "Yeah. They kind of are."

Jax stood up. He winced slightly as the stitches pulled, but he waved off her concern. He kept her hand firmly in his.

"I'm walking you home," he stated.

"You don't have to," Ada said, looking at the door. "It’s raining. And you're hurt."

"I'm walking you home," Jax repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. But then he softened, squeezing her fingers. "I need to make sure you get there. And... I don't really want to let go yet."

Ada looked at him. The golden boy. The prodigy. And now, the guy holding her hand like it was the only lifeline he had.

"Okay," she smiled, squeezing back. "Walk me home."

They pushed open the double doors and stepped out into the night. The rain was still hammering down, cold and relentless, but as they walked across the compound—the plain girl and the warrior—Ada didn't feel invisible anymore.

She felt seen. She felt needed. And for the first time in her life, she felt like the main character of her own story.