21. THORNE

Chapter 21

THORNE

Steel against steel—a hollow symphony. I parry a blow from Rylan, the familiar weight of my sword a poor comfort in the vast void that stretches before me.

Each swing, each thrust, is devoid of passion, a mechanical response from a body fueled by muscle memory. The joy of combat, the thrill of the fight, has been replaced by a dull ache that eats at my insides.

A week. It's been a week since the night in the woods—a stolen night of rekindled passion fueled by the Mendshore Bloom and Elowen's heat. But dawn brought a harsh reality check. The wall between us remained as unyielding as ever.

Elowen has retreated into her icy indifference. No stolen glances, no lingering touches, just a polite distance that feels like a physical manifestation of the fractured bond. It's as if the night never happened, a cruel illusion that leaves me yearning for something I can't have.

My frustration spills into my motions, each strike becoming more forceful, more desperate. Rylan, ever perceptive, parries my blows easily, his eyes filled with concern.

"Thorne," he says, his voice calm, "you're fighting like a man possessed. What's wrong?"

How can I explain the gaping hole in my chest, the echo of a love denied? "Nothing," I grunt, forcing a nonchalant shrug.

But Rylan isn't fooled. He lowers his sword. "Something is bothering you, Alpha. And it's affecting your training."

I want to lash out, to push him away. But Rylan is more than just my beta; he's a friend, a confidante. With a sigh, I lower my own sword.

"It's Elowen," I confess, the name a bitter whisper on my lips. "The night in the woods… it meant something to me. But…" I trail off, unable to voice the harsh reality.

Rylan nods, his expression filled with understanding. "And she?"

"Back to ignoring me like I don't even exist," I growl. "Like what happened under the moonlight was just a fleeting… mistake."

Rylan contemplates for a moment, then speaks quietly. "Perhaps it takes more than one night, Thorne. The bond might be mended, but the trust… that takes time."

His words offer little comfort. Time. A luxury I don't have. Every day, the packs remain at odds, and the threat of the Dark Moon looming large feels like a countdown to a war we might not win.

And with each passing day, the fear of losing Elowen, not just to the Moonfall Pack but to her own guarded heart, grows stronger.

With renewed determination, I pick up my sword. Even if a night of solace were all I could ever hope for, I wouldn't give up on Elowen. Not without a fight.

The training ground blurs as I launch into a series of strikes, channeling my frustration, my longing, into each swing. Maybe I can't control Elowen's feelings, but I can damn well control mine. And for now, that will have to be enough.

"I need to be alone," I rasp when we're through.

Rylan studies me. "Are you sure, Alpha?"

I nod curtly, unable to meet his gaze. The ache in my chest has morphed into a dull throb, a constant reminder of the night's fleeting intimacy and the crushing reality that follows.

Rylan sighs, sheathing his sword with a final nod before rejoining the training drills.

As soon as I'm away from the clearing, I sink onto a nearby log, burying my face in my hands.

A familiar scent jolts me. I snap my head up, hope battling despair.

There, standing a few paces away, is Elowen. She's clad in her training gear, her braid adorned with the same silver clasp that captivated me under the full moon. But the spark of defiance from that night is gone, replaced by a sadness that mirrors my own.

The connection between us pulses in the air. She watches me, her eyes shadowed with turmoil.

"Elowen," I manage after clearing my throat. "Do you need something?"

She shakes her head, her gaze lingering on me briefly before returning to the weapon rack.

Maybe she's right. Maybe throwing myself at her won't solve anything. Maybe…

But as the desire to stay, to talk, to simply be near her floods me, the reality of the situation slams me back down. It doesn't matter what I want. The wall between us remains, and Elowen isn't making any moves to dismantle it.

With a defeated sigh, I rise to my feet.

"I'll leave you to it then," I mumble.

Turning away, each step breaks my heart. But just as I take my third step, a soft voice stops.

"Thorne."

I freeze. Slowly, I turn back, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

She hasn't moved.

Her gaze is fixed on the ground, scuffing the dirt with the toe of her boot. The braid with the silver clasp brushes against her shoulder.

"Elowen?" I barely whisper.

She looks up. "Yes?"

"Y-you called me?"

"Actually, yes… yes I did," she hesitates, biting her lip.

The sight sends a jolt through me. I want to taste that lip.

"What is it?"

"Stay."

"Elowen," I reply, my voice gruff. "I thought you wanted to train alone."

She avoids my gaze, fiddling with the silver clasp in her braid. "Well, I…" she stammers, then takes a deep breath, finally meeting my eyes. "Actually, I was wondering…" Her voice trails off, and I can practically see her battling her pride.

"Wondering what?" I ask gently, taking a tentative step closer.

She throws me a quick, almost defiant glance before blurting out, "Would you be willing to… to teach me?"

My eyebrows shoot up. Teach her? After everything that's happened, the hurt, the distrust?

She wanted Kain to teach her…

But then I see the vulnerability in her eyes, something I haven't witnessed since the night under the full moon. It makes my wolf whine with a strange need to protect.

"Teach you what?"

"Everything, I'm the fated mate, I can't be useless. I want to learn combat and how to use… my powers," she mutters, her cheeks flushing a faint pink. "You have the scroll, and we have Greta—between the two of you, there must be a way to harness my so-called powers."

Understanding dawns. This isn't about her ego. This is about the pack, about protecting them from the coming darkness. A wave of respect washes over me. This female.., she is perfect.

"I suppose I could do that," I try to sound nonchalant, but a smile tugs at my lips.

A genuine smile, hesitant at first, blooms on her face. It's like the sun breaking through the clouds, chasing away the shadows that have clouded our connection for so long. "Would you really? That would be… amazing."

We stand there for a moment, an awkward silence stretching between us, but this time, it doesn't feel heavy. It feels charged, laced with a newfound hope that fills me with adrenaline.

Clearing my throat, I gesture towards the training area. "Alright then, let's get started. Show me what you've already figured out or what Kain has tried to teach you."

Elowen's smile widens, and for the first time since that night, there's a spark back in her eyes.

Maybe teaching her won't be so bad after all. Maybe this could be the start of something new, something we could build together under the light of the same moon that had almost torn us apart.

Goodness, I really hope this is the start of her warming up to me. I'd give anything for her affection again.

Together, we spend the next few hours experimenting. Elowen shows me the combat skills Kain has taught her and we determine she is ready to start her magical class tomorrow.

This time with her is perfect. I start to feel whole again. My mate is with me.

We bicker, of course. Elowen's frustration boils over with each strenuous thing I make her do. But beneath the surface, a tentative understanding is forming.

We're learning to communicate, to navigate the emotional minefield that still exists between us.

So I'm not surprised when Elowen storms to our training ground three days later, looking as bright and shiny as the moon goddess herself.

Tonight's training is different. We're delving deeper, exploring the potential of the moonlight to empower not just Elowen but the entire pack.

And it looks like she came prepared.

Mine! My wolf snarls inside me. I order him to be silent.

Elowen takes a deep breath as she walks over to me, her eyes gleaming. "Thorne, I'm so excited for tonight's training."

We stand facing a group of practice dummies, the clearing bathed in an ethereal silver light.

Even I am excited. Tonight is about channeling the power of the moon outwards. Elowen's idea is to use the moonlight to enhance the wolves' strength and speed, turning them into a formidable force against the looming threat of the Dark Moon.

This works, providing the moon shines.

Elowen focuses intently, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed in concentration. Moonlight swirls around her outstretched hands, condensing into a luminous orb.

It's a feat I've witnessed before, a testament to her growing control over her newfound powers.

With a deep breath, Elowen thrusts her hands forward, directing the moonlit orb towards a nearby dummy. It pulses for a moment, then… nothing. The dummy remains lifeless, the moonlight dispersing harmlessly into the night air.

A growl of frustration escapes her throat. She tries it again.

And again.

Seven more times before she slams her fist against the wooden practice sword resting against her hip. "Why isn't it working?"

My heart aches for her. The frustration mirrors the knot of worry tightening in my gut. The success of this alliance, the very survival of our packs, heck, the world, hinges on Elowen's newfound abilities. Seeing her struggle gnaws at me.

"Elowen," I say gently, touching her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. It's a new power. It takes time."

She whirls around, her eyes blazing with despair. "Time is a luxury we might not have, Thorne! The Dark Moon won't wait for us to perfect our moonlight cuddles!"

The barb catches me off guard, the playful reference to our night in the woods laced with a bitterness that stings. Guilt washes over me, a reminder of the wall that still stands between us despite our newfound training partnership.

"They're not cuddles, Elowen," I counter. "It's a connection. And that connection—the bond between us, might be the key."

Elowen stares at me for a long time. Then, with a sigh, she nods. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm going a little overboard right now."

All I want to do is hold her close and comfort her, instead, I choose my words carefully, "I know training hasn't been going smoothly. But…" I trail off, unsure how to phrase what I truly want.

What we both need.

"But?"

"Maybe we need a… change of pace," I finish, hoping it won't sound too awkward. "A chance to clear our heads."

Elowen searches my face. "What do you have in mind, Alpha Thorne?" she asks, a hint of a challenge in her voice.

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. "A run," I suggest. "Under the open sky. Just… you and me. No training, no pressure."

The challenge in her eyes morphs into excitement. "You wish to meet my wolf, Thorne?"

Relief washes over me. She's not telling me to fuck off. It isn't much, but it is a start. "With my very being."

"Well then, let's go. I think I need a run before I go mad with frustration."

I chuckle as we head deeper into the woods.

"Ready?" I ask.

Elowen stretches, a slick, sexy predator preparing for the hunt. "As I'll ever be, Alpha."

A playful snort escapes me. "No need for titles tonight, Elowen. Just us."

Then, it happens. A primal urge courses through both of us simultaneously. With a synchronized growl, we shift.

My wolf lunges forward, its fur the color of moonlight, eyes gleaming with primal energy. He lets out a joyous bark, circling Elowen's transformed form.

Mine !!

Her she-wolf is breathtaking—a vision of midnight fur splashed with silver markings that shimmer under the moon.

Her eyes, intelligent and fierce, lock with mine, and for a moment, we're not Alpha and rejected mate, but two wild creatures bound by an invisible thread.

We frolic in the clearing, a dance of playful nips and joyous barks. There's a freedom in being wolves, an unadulterated expression of emotions that transcends words.

But beneath the lightheartedness, a deeper yearning stirs within me. I nuzzle Elowen's she-wolf and she leans into me, a silent admission of the connection that binds us.

Then, as abruptly as it began, I feel Elowen's anguish—her pain from being rejected.

Her pain makes me dizzy, and I stagger.

A heavy silence descends upon us.

Slowly, we shift back.

"Elowen," I begin, the words catching in my throat. "I… I owe you an apology."

She only stares at me.

I nod and continue. "About what happened…"

"You rejected me, not knowing I was who you were looking for. You rejected me for the chosen mate," she finishes, her voice flat.

I take a step closer, my hand reaching out to touch hers. She flinches away.

"I had to," I rasp, the words scraping against my throat. "I had seen the prophecy: if I wanted you to live, if I needed the world to survive, I had to choose her even if it killed me. I couldn't let anyone get hurt."

It's a flimsy excuse, I know, but it's all I have. Elowen deserves the truth, but the truth is a tangled mess of fear, duty, and a love so fierce it terrifies me.

To my surprise, a tear rolls down Elowen's cheek, glinting like a tiny diamond in the moonlight.

"But you hurt me, Thorne," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "You broke my heart in the worst way. How do I know you want me for me right now?"

Her pain is a physical blow. My heart clenches, a silent apology echoing within me.

"I know with all my heart. I'm so sorry I have made you feel this way. I love you, Elowen. I have from the moment I first laid eyes on you."

The confession hangs in the air, an unspoken truth finally finding its voice. Elowen stares at me, her eyes searching mine.

Then, she steps forward, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet in a kiss—a desperate collision. It's a kiss filled with sorrow and longing and a promise of a future that might never be.

When we finally break apart, Elowen leans her forehead against mine, her breathing shallow. "I need time to think, Thorne."

Disappointment threatens to shatter me, but I force it down. This isn't about me. It's about Elowen, about the pain I've caused her.

"Take all the time you need," I reply. "Just… please, don't shut me out."

She attempts a smile. "I won't."

And with that, she turns and walks away, disappearing into the moonlit forest. I watch her go, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest.

The future remains uncertain, but one thing is clear—I won't give up on Elowen. Not without a fight.