Housebound with the Blackridge Heirs novel Chapter 48

**Change Begins With You — Jayden Collins**
**Chapter 48**

**Maya**

The night felt sharp, almost predatory.

I could sense its jagged teeth lurking at the fringes of my dreams, slowly sinking in, gnawing away at the peace until sleep morphed into a chaotic battlefield from which I couldn’t escape.

Each time I surrendered to the darkness, the stark white walls of the Council compound invaded my mind. The acrid scent of sterilized air mixed with bleach filled my nostrils, and I could almost hear the menacing hiss of the collar tightening around my throat. I could vividly recall Caden’s voice, cracking under the weight of desperation as he called my name.

It all replayed in an endless loop, dragging me back into that nightmare until I jolted awake, gasping for breath, my hands instinctively clawing at my own neck.

“Caden!”

The name tore itself from my lips before I could even think to hold it back.

In an instant, the door swung open, and there he was—eyes wide, filled with worry, his chest heaving with each frantic breath. “Maya! What happened?”

I froze, caught in the grip of fear that clung to me like a second skin, thick and suffocating. When he reached out for me, my body reacted before my mind could process it.

I flinched.

It was a small movement, instinctual really, but I saw the hurt flash across his face. He halted mid-step, his hand falling back to his side as if it had been burned.

I struggled to find my voice, to say something—anything—but my throat was raw, and the words escaped me in a mere whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

His expression softened immediately, the tension easing a fraction. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do,” I insisted, urgency creeping into my tone. “You risked everything to save me, and I can’t even…” I shook my head, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “I can’t even look at you without being haunted by that place.”

He inhaled slowly, crouching beside the bed, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him, yet he didn’t touch me.

“You’re safe now,” he said, and I desperately wanted to believe him. Oh, how I wished for that sense of security.

But the reality I had stumbled into didn’t seem to comprehend the notion of safety. Not when it was accompanied by glowing eyes and silver claws. Not when the very people I trusted could transform into something wild and deadly without a moment’s notice.

“I know you mean that,” I murmured, “but we both know that safety doesn’t truly exist here.”

He didn’t argue with me. Instead, he simply watched, his blue eyes steadying me, grounding me.

“I trust you,” I said quietly, “and I’m not angry anymore. I just…” My voice faltered, emotions swirling within me. “I’m terrified of what this world means for me now. Of what I’m expected to become.”

For the first time, he looked away, running a hand through his tousled hair, a sign of his own turmoil.

“You’re still you, Maya,” he said gently.

I hesitated, uncertainty creeping in. “Am I?”

That question lingered in the air, heavy and charged.

I met his gaze, my heart racing. “Do you think I’m different?”

The silence stretched between us, thick and palpable. I could see the struggle in his throat as if he wanted to lie, to reassure me, but ultimately couldn’t.

“Yes,” he finally admitted, the word hitting me like a punch to the gut.

Something within me cracked, a quiet but undeniable fracture.

“I thought so,” I whispered, glancing down, unable to meet his eyes. “I can see it in your gaze every time you look at me. It’s like you’re searching for someone who isn’t here anymore.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, his voice urgent. “You’re still the same girl who made me forget I was a monster. But something shifted when they took you. There was something before—something I can’t quite articulate. I just know it’s there.”

I swallowed hard, a hollow ache expanding in my chest.

“Then maybe I don’t belong here anymore,” I mumbled, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

“Don’t say that,” he countered, pain flickering across his features.

I fell silent, unable to respond. Instead, I turned away, gripping the edge of the blanket as if it could tether me to something tangible and real.

After a long moment, he stood, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

“You should try to rest,” he said quietly. “I’ll be right outside.”

I didn’t stop him as he left the room.

The door clicked shut, and I found myself staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance until they no longer resembled monsters.

But still, I couldn’t remain still.

By the time the moon ascended above the treetops, I found myself outside, wrapped in one of Caden’s hoodies that still carried the faint scent of cedar and impending storms. The rain had resumed, gentle yet persistent, beading along the railing as I stood on the back patio.

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