Chosen By My Mate's Father-in-law
Chapter 19: Gareth’s Coat

Chapter 19: Chapter 19: Gareth’s Coat

The sensations grew more painful with every passing minute. I curled up tighter on the bed, biting down hard on the corner of the pillow, trying to muffle the sob that broke through my throat. My chest hurt from crying too hard and from the pain inflicted by Elliot’s physical betrayal of our mate bond. I felt like I was being ripped apart from inside out.

Elliot.

He did it on purpose. He wanted me to suffer.

I knew it the second he looked me in the eye and whispered, “You are mine, Jasmine. You think you can walk away from me?” And then, just like that, he turned and walked straight into Isabella’s waiting arms—like I hadn’t mattered. Like everything we ever shared was just... disposable.

A broken sob escaped me, and I rolled onto my side, fists clenched against my chest. The mark on my neck was still throbbing faintly, a sick reminder of the bond I never wanted. A bond he used like a weapon.

I hated him. Hated how he manipulated me. How he used my father’s situation to corner me. How he smiled sweetly when he was lying through his teeth.

“I could make it all go away,” he had said, fingers brushing my chin like he was doing me a favor. “Your father walks free. Your mom gets medical care. All you have to do is remain mine, Jasmine. Just stop fighting it.”

Liar. Every word from his mouth was a trap.

I sat up weakly, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. That’s when I saw it—Gareth’s coat, still on the floor from earlier. My breath hitched.

I reached for it slowly, fingers trembling. Elliot had touched it, yes—but as I lifted it closer, I realized his scent hadn’t stuck. No. What hit me was Gareth. Cedarwood. Musk. That subtle warmth reminded me of strength and safety.

I pressed the coat to my face, inhaling deeply. The ache in my chest started to ease, just a little. I curled back into the sheets, wrapping the fabric around me like an armor. I could almost hear his voice again. That calm, gruff tone. That quiet look in his eyes when he saw me—not just on the surface, but like he was really seeing me.

I closed my eyes and let myself remember our first eventful meeting.

That first moment we met—at his daughter’s and Elliot’s engagement party. Wine spilled on my dress, and he offered me his coat, infused with his scent. His eyes changed from stormy grey to pitch black when his wolf surfaced. That kiss... his hands on my body trailing sparks of fire on my skin.

“I want this,” I’d breathed, my heart pounding. My body was craving his.

“I will give you more than you want,” He replied. His hands were all over me.

He didn’t flinch. Just smirked. “I want you, Jasmine.” Our bodies had moved together in the heat of our mutual desires.

Now, in the silence of the room, wrapped in his coat, I let the memory morph into something else—something I desperately needed.

In my dream, it was Gareth who was standing in the moonlight, not Elliot. Gareth pulled me close, his hands warm on my waist. His kiss was slow, steady, and full of heat, and hunger. His lips tasted like fire and comfort all at once, and when he murmured my name against my mouth, it felt like a promise.

There’s no mark on my neck. No pain. No guilt.

Only him.

His hand traced down my back and drew goosebumps across my skin. He whispered things I didn’t even know I wanted to hear.

“You’re not broken, Jasmine.”

“You don’t belong to him.”

“You belong to me.”

I gasped, my body pressed closer to his, craving more of that warmth, that safety. My fingers buried in his hair, and he groaned softly, like he’d been holding back for too long.

His scent—woodsy, clean, warm—was like a balm over my aching chest. I buried my face in it, sighing softly.

“Mine,” I whispered, not even realizing I’d said it out loud.

Somewhere between sleep and pain, my mind pulled me under again.

I was in a sunlit room, in Gareth’s arms, wearing nothing but his shirt. His hand traced my cheek, and his gaze—goddess, that gaze—made my heart stutter.

“You look beautiful in my clothes,” he murmured.

I blushed. “You keep leaving them around. What did you expect?”

His smirk was soft this time. “Maybe I wanted to mark my territory.”

Then he kissed me, slow and deep. My fingers curled into his hair. I moaned when he pulled me onto his lap, his mouth moving from my lips to my neck, to my collarbone. His hand slid under the shirt, and I didn’t stop him.

“Say you’re mine,” he whispered, breath hot against my skin.

“I’m yours,” I said, gasping as his teeth grazed the spot between my neck and shoulder—

Then I felt it. A sharp warmth. A rush of energy.

He marked me.

But it didn’t hurt. It lit something in me, something I didn’t even know was waiting.

Pleasure exploded through me, my body arching into his as everything tightened and then shattered in waves of bliss. I clung to him, sobbing his name, overwhelmed. He held me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

“We’ll have a little girl with your eyes,” he said, lips brushing my ear. “And a boy who’s just as stubborn as you.”

I laughed, breathless. “You want kids with me?”

“Only with you,” he said. “You’re all I want.”

I woke up with a soft cry, my thighs clenched, my breath shaky. I was drenched in sweat—and wetness between my thighs. My cheeks flamed.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, burying my face in my hands. “Did I really...?”

I bit my lip, blinking up at the ceiling in shock. I had a sex dream about Gareth. “Damn it.”

A glance at the clock made me panic. I overslept. My alarm must’ve gone off and I’d slept right through it, too blissed out in my fantasy to care.

“Crap, crap, crap!” I muttered, scrambling out of bed.

I nearly tripped over my own feet rushing to the bathroom. Gareth’s daughter was expecting me—he was expecting me—and here I was, sticky with sweat and shame, daydreaming like a lovesick teenager.

I tugged off the shirt, ready to jump into the shower—then froze.

My breath caught as I stared at the mirror.

Elliot’s marks.

Red. Bruising. Faint teeth impressions. Ugly reminders of what he did.

“You’re mine,” he growled out last night, dragging his mouth over my neck. “You can flirt with him all you want, but you’ll always come back to me. You’re tied to me, Jasmine. Whether you like it or not.”

My stomach churned. I touched the bruises gently, feeling rage and shame twist inside me. I glanced at Gareth’s shirt, now discarded on the bed. I wished I belonged somewhere else. I wished Gareth was my mate instead.

But the dream that I had earlier was just a dream. My tangled relationship with Elliot was my reality.

With a heavy heart, I prepared myself to go to work.

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