Jasper Hale had been by your side, holding you close as you rested in his arms. Being a vampire yourself, you knew how intense the blood rut could become, and tonight, it was particularly fierce. Jasper, ever patient and attentive, tried his best to help you calm the storm within.

His arm was securely around you, keeping you grounded, while your head rested against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart—or at least, the rhythm of his composed, unshakable presence. Every so often, his fingers would brush through your hair, tucking stray strands gently behind your ears so they wouldn’t fall into your face. The soft motion, coupled with the warmth of his embrace, was meant to soothe the restlessness that clawed at you from the inside.

Though your hunger pulsed through your veins, making your senses sharp and overwhelming, Jasper never wavered. His calm voice, barely above a whisper, and the quiet steadiness of his touch were like anchors, helping you focus, helping you survive the storm of your own instincts without losing yourself. In his arms, even as your body ached and your mind screamed for release, there was a fragile, comforting sense of safety.