Xavier's Pov

"You feel sparks because we're mates; that's why it's good when I do this," I add as I lean in and kiss Charisse's baby-soft lips. My actions take her aback, but instead of resisting or freaking out, she kisses back just a little.

Our kiss was brief, but it couldn't have been better; knowing that she kissed back a little reassures me that I could have a great connection with her. I notice her bright crimson cheeks as I back away from her. "We're friends," I confirm.

Charisse nods and turns away shyly. "Look at me," I say as I take both of her hands in mine.

"I don't want to pressure you into doing anything. We'll take things slowly, okay?"

She nods again in agreement but does not open her mouth to respond.

"Ah, you're awake." A few moments later, Doctor Simpson arrives.

"When will Charisse be discharged?" I want to get right to the point.

"After you finish these papers, Alpha," he says, offering me a packet and some tablets before walking away.

After skimming over the questions, I realize I need to learn more of the answers. I only have the name and the date.

I asked, "How old are you, baby?"

"I don't know."

"Do you happen to know when your birthday is?"

She sighs and shakes her head.

"I forgot many things when my old pack beat me," she says. I keep my gaze fixed on the pen and abstain from striking anything.

"Do you have any relatives?" Or whether you were born in your previous pack or not?"

"I know I had parents and possibly a big brother." But I know nothing else about my life," she says quietly.

"We can do a blood test if you're okay with it--to see if we can find a relative and get more information about you." I propose.

Charisse blinks and then looks at the IVs hooked on her body. "You don't have to do that for me; I don't want to waste any more of your time," she says, declining the offer.

Was I wasting my time? Even though I can't sense her feelings, she wants to learn more about herself. It's clear from all the medication and support she needs that she's been abused and starved for years. "Doc, can we do a blood test to get more information on Charisse?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, Alpha, but she won't be able to handle any more blood loss," he says, but his tone betrays his apathy.

'Shit's about to get real,' muses my wolf.

I rise and indicate for Dr. Simpson to join me in the corridor. I don't want my flatmate to hear me doing this, so I go a few rooms down. "Why in the hell are you lying to me?" I ask in a disturbingly calm tone.

He looks at me.

"Answer me when I ask you a question!" I demand that you throw him against the wall by the neck.

"She could perform a blood test, Alpha." Please forgive me," he begs forgiveness.

"If you commit another offense against my mate, I will personally kill you." I threaten to release him.

I hurry back to Charisse with one last peek. How dare a shifter oppose his Alpha in such a way; if it hadn't been for the fact that he was treating my mate, I would've killed him. I still want to murder him.

"Shit." When I smell Brad inside my friend's hospital room, I mutter.

"Merda." I hear him cuss, his Italian origins showing through.

'Who is this?' he says, peering at Charisse over the mind link.

'This is my pal. 'Stop looking at her.' I growl.

'How come she looks so familiar?' he wonders. Stop gazing at her, you moron!

'What exactly do you mean? 'She just awoke.'

'She looks like an older version of my sister,' he replies, fists clenched. He had a younger sister who was abducted when he was seven. His parents looked for him for five years, but Brad never gave up; I even gave him time off work to do so.

Brad Belle, Charisse Belle, hold on a second. Their surnames are not of Italian origin, but they were raised in an Italian-style environment.

"Charisse, didn't you say you had a brother?" I consulted with my colleague.

"I think so; I don't remember that much," she says.

"How about his name? Do you know your brother's name?" Brad inquires eagerly. She was taken by whichever pack she came from if he and Charisse were siblings.

"B-Francis, Stephen, something beginning with a B."

"It's possible that this is his. This could be my sister." Brad mutters as he runs his fingers over his hair. My best buddy and mate are most likely siblings, but there's only one way to find out: a blood test.

"Did I do something wrong?" Charisse inquires, her face concerned. Her heart monitor beeps faster as she nervously fidgets with the hospital blanket.

"No, darling. We believe you and Brad are linked." I say this in an attempt to calm her down. It's reasonable for Luna to feel concerned about her packmates, but believing she's the source is quite another.

"Here." Brad offers Charisse a cup of water, and I realize how dry her throat must be.

"Thank you." She gently holds the cup as if it were the most valuable object in the world.

"Doctor Simpson said you requested a blood test, Alpha?"

"Yes, Brad is going to do it as well." Finding out if they're related will be faster if they both do the blood test.

"These are only for her appetite and to relieve pain." "The Luna may feel dizzy and hungry, but it's best if you don't force her to eat more than she can handle," advises the nurse.

"Is there anything I should be cautious of?"

"Just don't put too much pressure on her bones or do anything violent in her presence." We discovered a lot of tension and mental trauma when we did a brain scan."

I nod and return my gaze to Charisse. She'd been sleeping for a few hours and wasn't awake when we discovered she and Brad were related.

He assured me he would let her get used to me before taking on the big brother role.

"No way, no how. "It won't happen again," she mutters in her sleep.

I gently shake her shoulder to wake her, but it is ineffective. I shake her harder as her arms move to cover her head. She blinks open her eyes and glances around the room, perplexed and panting. "It was just a dream, and you're safe with me." I coo, clutching her close.

All IVs had been removed earlier, and I had spent the last few hours filling out paperwork and asking nurses questions. "We can go home now," I inform Charisse.

Her reaction breaks my heart. "I don't have a place to call home."

"Your home is with me," I say.

"Really?"

"I'm not giving you up now that I've finally found you."

I help her carefully leave the bed and place the crutches under her arms. She's stable when I stand back and let her carry her weight but falls when she tries to walk with the crutches. I'm holding her body and keeping it from collapsing. "You okay?" she asks, nodding.

I carry her bridal gown out of the hospital, one arm beneath her knees and the other supporting her back. "Whose shirt is this?" she wonders, fiddling with the hem.

"It's mine," I say. The physicians gave me the option of dressing Charisse in a revealing hospital gown or one of my shirts; the decision seemed simple. She doesn't object to being in my arms and rests her head on my chest.

I pull the seat belt over Charisse in my black 2015 Chevrolet Camaro and try to fix it so it isn't choking her. "This is a copy of all of your information," I tell her as I hand her the stack of documents. She is completely focused on it for the entire twenty-minute vehicle ride.

"So you're saying I have a big brother?"

"Yes."

"Who-Who is he?" she asks, her voice stuttering as if she hadn't spoken in a while.

"That's Brad; he was in the room earlier."

"Does he have a rank in the pack?" she wonders, knowing that only someone of high rank would enter Alpha's mate's room.

"He's both my Beta and my best friend."

"We're right here," I say as I enter my driveway. I don't spend time opening the door for Charisse and carrying her bridal gown again.

She exhales, finally feeling the sparks when the numbing drug wears off. "Do you mind sharing a room with me?" Or do you prefer to remain on your own?" I request that the front door be opened.

My house isn't a mansion, but it's also not a little dwelling. It contains six bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a pool in the backyard. "I get to stay in a room?" she asks, her eyes are bright.

"Of course, where else would you sleep?" says the narrator.

"Alpha, l-let me stay in the attic if I were g-good." They did not force her to stay in the attic. She speaks to her old pack as if she were merely an object or a pet. That means there could have been a worse place for my friend to live.

"So, is it my room or a different room?"

"It doesn't matter," she says quietly, her hands on her lap. It's my room.

I'm relieved I'll be sharing a room with my flatmate. Sharing a bed is unlikely to happen nowadays, but it is understandable. My wolf and I are both enraged that one of our pack members tried to take advantage of her, and we wish he could have died more terribly.

A whimper jolts me out of my reverie. She has curled herself into a ball and is hiding her head. What occurred?

'You were growling,' sneers my wolf.

Charisse's POV

I brace myself, expecting someone to whack me; a growl always meant I was about to get smacked. 'Mate won't hurt us,' my wolf promises.

I'm not at all at ease. Xavier Ryan is known to be harsh and violent, which makes me very nervous.

It's a lot to take in, especially since I've finally discovered who I am and have a brother. Alpha James claimed that my family sold me to him as a pack enslaved person.

My recollection becomes blank when I try to recall anything before age nine. There are also some memory gaps between the ages of ten and however old I am today. 'Seventeen,' says my wolf. When she says that, I almost smile; I've never known my age or anything other than my name.

"Are you all right, baby?" I apologize for growling." Xavier expresses regret. When someone else speaks it, the word sorry seems strange.

"I'm perfectly fine," I say. He sits on his bed beside me, his hand on my waist.

"Are you hungry?" That was the first time anyone had ever asked me that question. 'Make me food' or 'I bet you're hungry' has always been the response.

I shake my head and gently decline him. "Sandwich or pasta?" he inquires.

"I'm not in the mood for h-hungry."

He suggests, "I could make you a turkey sandwich." Is it possible that I'm talking out loud or that I'm not opening my mouth?

"I'm not hungry," I repeat, slowing my speech so I don't stutter.

Xavier furrows his brows and examines my petite frame. He inquires, "When was the last time you ate?"

"Summertime," I mumble about not knowing what month it is. I haven't gotten any food or drink since the summer; it's now autumn.

I can tell Xavier is clenching his fist to avoid breaking things. He presses me on him and inhales my scent deeply.

I try not to move because I'm frightened of what he'll do to me if I do. Hitting, slapping, or perhaps worse.

'Mate won't do that,' says my wolf.

'How did you find out?' I inquire of her. She is the only one with whom I can open up.

His grip on me is tightening as he shakes with wrath. They would have bruised significantly more without the brace around my ribs. I try to get closer to his chest while avoiding his arms.

"X-Xavier, you're hurting me." I let out a breath. I press my face against his hard chest when I feel his claws elongate.

As I repeat my words one more time, my breathing becomes labored. "Xavier, please let me go." This time he hears me.

The pressure is immediately relieved from my torso, and I stare up at Xavier. "Oh, goddess!" I'm genuinely sorry, darling."

"Does it hurt?" he inquires, clearly concerned.

For what seems like the hundredth time today, I shake my head.

"I'm so sorry," he says again, "I swear I didn't mean to hurt you." I move out of his lap and take a seat across from him.

"You have a nice soft bed." I'm talking about feeling the cotton cloth. Alpha James' bed isn't this comfortable; I never got to sleep on it, but I did touch it while cleaning his mansion.

Xavier says, "I'm glad you like it."

"Why don't you shower, and I'll make us some food?" he suggests. He turns around and gets some bags to cover my cast with.

It doesn't take me long to put them on. Another anecdote is figuring out how to operate his nice shower with one hand and one foot. (She has a shattered wrist, a fractured left leg, and a broken ankle.)

Charisse's Pov

I pause in front of the stairs, unsure of how I'm supposed to descend. I smell like Xavier because I used his shampoo and body wash, and I'm wearing his boxers and shirt.

Sitting down, I place my crutches by my side and hurry down the stairs like a toddler, butt-scooting each step.

'This is fun,' my wolf says, grinning. Inside my head, I see her as a wolf, complete with paws.

One of my crutches falls and tumbles to the ground as I near the foot of the steps. Xavier appears at my side in an instant. "Are you okay?" he inquires.

I nod and allow him to assist me in standing. "Why were you trying to go down the stairs?"

"You told me I should meet you in the kitchen." I sigh.

"I meant for you to call me when you were finished showering," he adds gently as he picks me up. He carries me the last distance to the kitchen.

On the dining table are two dishes containing sandwiches. Xavier places me in a chair and brings a plate closer to me. The sandwich looks delicious, but I feel guilty knowing I'll toss over half of it.

After ten minutes, I can only eat half of a sandwich while Xavier has finished two. "I'm full." I shove the plate away, whispering.

"Just one more bite?" Xavier insists.

My head shakes. I know I'm wasting food and that others need it more than I do, but I can't eat it. He groans and sets the plates up.

"Baby, the doctors said you should try to eat."

"I know; my old pack doctor said the same thing."

"Have you been trying?" he inquires.

I shake my head once more. "Alpha wouldn't let anyone give me food, but people would occasionally sneak in some meals for me," I respond.

Xavier glares at the wall but shows no other symptoms of rage. "Brad wants to see you tomorrow; if you want to wait, I can tell him to reschedule," he says.

"I'll see him again tomorrow."

He's my only source of heat as we make our way up to what I believe is his bedroom. My clothing is large on me, but they're not warm, and it appears to be quite cold in the house. "These should help you fall asleep." Xavier gives me medication and a water bottle to help me swallow it.

The medicine's effects begin swiftly, adding to my fatigue. Xavier leaves me in his bed and goes into the bathroom to change. It's not king-size; it's much, much larger.

He will probably make me sleep beside him; I hope my dreams aren't too awful tonight. My shirtless comrade is the last thing I see before I pass out.

An evil voice sneers, "No one will want you after I'm done with you."

This is the third time this has happened today; the warriors are all worried and rely on me for relief. "Listen to me when I'm talking to you!"

I gaze at Beta Shawn, knowing he despises it when I stare at him in the eyes. They can torture me, but they can't make me submit.

I know I pushed him too far when I heard a snap. I end up coughing and choking on my blood as I try to stand up with my elbows. "I said to bend over!"

"Wake up, Charisse. You have a bad dream."

My eyes open, and I move away from the figure before me. "I'm not going to hurt you; it was just a dream." Xavier reaches out for me. I let him swoop me into his lap and bury my face in his naked chest.

"I don't want to go back." I tremble at the prospect of returning to Red Stone.

"Don't worry; I'll be right there for you."

Looking around the naturally lit room, I realize it's already morning. It's around noon.

'Best night ever,' says my wolf. I mentally concur with her. That was the longest we'd ever slept, and we almost didn't have a nightmare the entire time.

So, what should I do now? Normally, I'd begin preparing breakfast for everyone.

"Do you want to eat breakfast?" Xavier inquires, placing his hands on my waist. My head shakes. The movement hurts my head, but I attempt to ignore it.

"Are you sure?" In answer, I nod.

"How was your night's sleep?"

"Good, you have a soft bed," I say softly. Compared to where I used to sleep, the soft material and bouncy mattresses. Alpha James was kind enough to offer me an old couch cushion to rest my head on at night; I had to labor for it for a few months, but the pillow made sleeping more pleasant.

"You're supposed to take this every morning for two weeks." Xavier hands me a small white pill and a water bottle.

It's as if I ate an entire gummy bear.

A laugh perplexes me. "You like gummy bears?"

Oh. I must have said it aloud. "One of the pill's side effects is the inability to express yourself," he explains.

I extended my hand for him to place the bottle in.

Each morning, take one unit by mouth. The following side effects may occur: speaking of thoughts, openness, and numbness of hurts.

"How about we play a game where I ask you a question, and you answer it?" Xavier proposes.

"What's your favorite candy?" he asks first.

I don't recall much about candy other than that it was high in sugar. I had it maybe two years ago when a tiny child stealthily sent a small bag to my attic. "They're gummy bears. "What age are you?"

"Twenty-one." That means we're four years apart in age. I would like to know if Brad and I are the same age.

"Brad and I are both twenty-one; however, I am six months older." Xavier declares triumphantly. He somewhat expands his chest, and I imagine how he'd look as an ape.

"What kind of food do you like?" he inquires.

"I don't know," I say, shrugging. "Anything that makes me happy." "Do you have hair gel on?"

I fight the overpowering want to stroke his hair. 'Do it, and I bet you five dollars. It's soft,' says my wolf.

'You don't have any money,' I say.

'What you have is mine.'

'But neither do I have any money.'

'And what is your point?'

"Are you talking to your wolf?" Xavier inquires.

'It's not fair! He didn't respond to our inquiry!' My wolf accused me.

"Yes."

'CHEATER!' she yells, making me cringe.

"What's wrong?" Xavier inquires anxiously.

'He's done it again!'

"My wolf is acting strangely," I observe.

'I'm as strange as you are. What does C-H-E-A-T-E-R stand for? Cheater!!!' She yells.