8. ELOWEN

Chapter 8

ELOWEN

Anxiety gnaws at me like a persistent rodent, its tiny teeth scrabbling at my insides. Every creak of the floorboard, every rustle of wind against the windowpane sends my heart leaping into my throat. How much longer can I endure this agonizing wait?

Hours seem to stretch into eternity as I huddle on the bed, clutching a threadbare pillow to my chest. My father and Thorne left for the rogue battle what felt like a lifetime ago, and the silence in their wake was deafening.

Finn sits beside me, his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I burrow into his warmth, seeking solace in his familiar presence. "What if…" I whisper, the words catching in my throat. "What if they don't return?"

His grip tightens momentarily before relaxing. I lift my head, peering up at him. His face is uncharacteristically shadowed, a flicker of something akin to pain crossing it.

"Don't say that," he murmurs, his voice rough.

"But what if it's true?" I persist, tears stinging my eyes. "They could be out there… injured, or worse."

He avoids my gaze, his jaw clenching tight. "They're strong, Elowen," he says finally, his voice strained. "They'll be alright."

His words lack conviction, and the silence that follows speaks volumes.

A seed of doubt has been planted, a tiny fissure growing in the dam of my hope.

But then I see it—a glimpse of something deeper on Finn's face, a flicker of hurt that tugs at my heartstrings.

"Finn?" I whisper, concerned. "What's wrong?"

He hesitates for a moment, his gaze distant. "There's someone… someone I met when I was with Thorne's pack."

My brow furrows in surprise. "Someone new?"

"Maybe," he murmurs, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "His name is Viktar. He's part of Thorne's team." He pauses, his eyes meeting mine with an unexpected intensity. "We… we connected, Elowen. In a way, I haven't with anyone else."

Finn, connected with someone so quickly? "Connected?" I echo, curiosity piqued. "Like, how?"

A bittersweet smile spreads across his face. "He's… different. Caring, even though he tries to hide it behind a gruff exterior. He listens, Elowen. Really listens." He recounts stories, his voice filled with a newfound warmth, stories of shared meals, whispered jokes, and stolen glances under the cloak of night.

As I listen, a wave of emotions wash over me. Surprise at the unexpected turn of events. But also a flicker of something akin to… understanding.

Finding someone to connect with, someone who offered a listening ear and a touch of comfort, was exactly what he needed.

The thought of Finn, my closest friend, finding happiness with someone new should fill me with joy.

And on the surface, it does. But a deeper part of me can't help but feel a pang of… something.

Loneliness, perhaps?

A longing glance towards the window betrays my thoughts.

Thorne.

Where is he? Is he safe? And when he returns, will I finally have the courage to bridge the gap between us?

Suddenly, a memory surfaces from earlier that day, a memory I hadn't allowed myself to dwell on.

The way Thorne had looked at me, the intensity in his gaze, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air—even with the threat of the rogue attack looming, there had been a shift between us.

My heart clenches with a bittersweet pang.

Despite the current situation, a part of me longs for his return, for the chance to explore the potent emotions simmering beneath the surface.

A new resolve washes over me. When Thorne returns, safe and sound, I won't let him push me away any longer. The spark between us is too undeniable to ignore.

Tonight, when he holds me in his arms, I'll bridge the gap and let him know the depth of my feelings.

Until then, the wait stretches on, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the floorboards and the frantic drumming of my heart.

Every rustle of wind against the windowpane sends me scrambling to my feet, only to be disappointed.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the heavy oak doors to the great hall creak open.

A wave of relief washes over me, so powerful it takes my breath away.

Men trickle in, weary but triumphant.

They share stories of the battle, their voices filled with a newfound respect for the Ember Pack's fighting prowess. The rogue pack had been driven away, not without casualties, but with their dominance over the territory decisively broken.

A sense of pride swells within me as I mingle with the returning warriors. These men, once strangers, now stand shoulder-to-shoulder with my pack, their alliance forged in the crucible of battle.

Snippets of conversation reach me as I move, the soldiers recounting the battle in excited bursts.

"Thorne was a force to be reckoned with!" one exclaims. "Took down three rogues single-handedly!"

"Yeah …saved Alpha Eamon from a sneak attack. Took a nasty blow to the shoulders, though. Poor bloke was out cold when they brought him back."

My heart lurches in my chest.

Thorne.

He was injured, saving my father. Panic claws at my throat as I choke back a sob.

Without a word, I push through the throng of warriors, my eyes scanning the room frantically.

Finally, I spot a group of men carrying a stretcher towards a nearby chamber. There, on the stretcher, lies Thorne, his face pale and drawn, a bandage wrapped around his head.

Tears sting my eyes as a primal urge to reach him takes over. I ignore the concerned calls from the others, my legs propelling me forward in a desperate sprint.

Bursting into the room, I find Thorne unconscious on a bed, a healer tending to his wounds.

Relief washes over me, a wave so powerful it nearly knocks me off my feet.

He's alive.

Thank the Moon Goddess, he's alive.

Just as I'm about to rush to his side, a movement at the doorway catches my eye. There, framed in the entrance, walking slowly away is Finn. But he's not alone. He's holding another man close, their bodies entwined in a tight embrace.

Even from a distance, I recognize him. Viktar, the man Finn spoke of so fondly. A surge of joy washes over me—he's safe, just like Finn said.

Relief washes over me, a different kind this time. Finn's newfound love is safe, just like mine, I desperately hope.

Tears prick my eyes as I look back at Thorne, my voice thick with emotion. "Thorne," I say gently, my hand trembling as I reach out to touch his cheek.

Glancing around the room, I spot a basin of cool water and a washcloth near the cot. "May I?" I ask the attending healer, my voice raw.

She gives a curt nod. "Just be gentle, child. He needs rest," she says, then leaves.

As I start to clean the minor cuts and scrapes marring his face, my heart aches for him.

He looks so vulnerable lying there, his usual stoicism replaced by weary languor.

Suddenly, his eyelids flutter open, his gaze meeting mine.

His eyes are not heavy. They are clear, focused, and for a heart-stopping moment, I see a flicker of something deep within them, something that makes my breath catch in my throat.

But before I can decipher that emotion, a strangled cry escapes me. "You're awake! I thought you were unconscious. Do unconscious people wake up this soon?!" I gasp, tears brimming in my eyes.

Thorne frowns, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "Unconscious?" he echoes, his voice raspy. "Elowen, I was only sleeping."

"Sleeping?" I cough. "The healer said you were unconscious! I… I thought…" My voice breaks, the dam of my emotions finally crumbling. Tears stream down my face, and the relief of seeing him awake overwhelms me.

He reaches out a hand, his fingers brushing against my cheek. His touch is gentle, sending a spark of warmth through me. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice laced with concern. "It's alright. I'm fine. Just a bit banged up."

But I can't stop the tears.

The fear that had gripped me since the battle, the terror of losing him, it all comes flooding out in a torrent of sobs. He pulls me closer, his arm wrapping around my shaking form, offering silent comfort.

"It's okay," he whispers into my hair, his voice a soothing balm to my troubled soul. "I'm here now. You're safe."

His words, a gentle anchor in the storm of my emotions, slowly calm me. I release him from my desperate hold, wiping at my tear-streaked cheeks.

"Thank you," I choke out. "Thank you for being alive."

A flicker of something warm washes over his features, chasing away the pallor of exhaustion. "Always," he murmurs, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Now," I say, forcing a smile, "let me take care of those wounds."

He nods, a tired smile gracing his lips as I rise from the cot. Picking up the damp washcloth, I return to his side, my fingers trembling only slightly as I begin cleaning the superficial cuts adorning his chest.

His gaze follows my every move, his eyes burning with an unspoken intensity that sets my pulse racing. The air crackles as a silent conversation flows between us.

"Thank you," he rasps. "For everything."

I pause, my hand hovering over a particularly nasty scrape on his arm. "You saved my father... I don't know what we would have done without you."

He shrugs, but a flicker of pride momentarily brightens his face. "We take care of each other," he says simply. "That's what pack is for."

But there's something more in his eyes, a depth of emotion that goes beyond pack loyalty. He leans in slightly, his breath warm against my ear. "But especially you," he murmurs, his voice a silken thread.

The words jolt me, igniting a spark deep within my core.

Our eyes lock, the unspoken desire hanging heavy in the air.

The room seems to shrink, the world fading away until all that exists is him and me.

Then, with a swiftness that takes my breath away, he raises up on his elbows, and his lips meet mine in a searing kiss—a kiss fueled by the unspoken words, the fear, and the relief of the past few hours.

It's a kiss that speaks of gratitude, a bond forged in the crucible of battle, and a yearning that has been simmering for far too long.

I melt into his embrace, my worries momentarily forgotten as I lose myself in the passion of the moment. His touch is electric, sending shivers down my spine.

In this kiss, I find a release, a confirmation of my feelings.

His lips brush against mine, the contact electric. I gasp as his tongue darts out to taste me, a possessive growl rumbling in his chest.

His hands find their way to my hips, pulling me closer, deeper into the kiss. I moan as his tongue slides against mine, the sensation sending shivers down my spine.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire.

"Elowen..." he groans, practically purring my name as he rests his forehead on mine, his voice low and husky.

"I want you," he says in a deep voice.

"All of me. Take it."

He pulls back slightly to look into my eyes, and I see the desire burning there.

"I want you to take it all. Take me, claim my body as yours."

His eyes widen in surprise, and I gasp when he pulls me against him hard, guiding me onto the bed.

His strong hands clutch my hips as he pulls me closer to him. I can feel the heat of his body against mine, and it makes me moan in anticipation.

He leans in and kisses me again, his tongue exploring my mouth as he grinds against me. I can feel the hardness of him through our clothes, and it makes me moan even louder.

I roam my hands across his chest as I press myself more into him, trying to avoid the open wound on his shoulders. Throne's hand moves quickly, and the ropes on my gown are removed.

"You're too beautiful," he whispers against my lips, his voice hoarse with desire. "I want to devour you."

I gasp as he pulls my gown down, exposing the swell of my breasts. He cups them in his hands, and I moan at the feeling of him on me.

He kisses down my neck, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. I arch into him as he nips at me with his teeth.

"Oh, yes," I moan as he continues to suckle on my neck. "Please don't stop."

He chuckles against me and then drags his lips down lower until they caress my breasts.

He takes one nipple into his mouth and sucks on it, causing me to moan even louder. "Oh god," I gasp as he continues to suckle at my breasts.

He moves his hand down to my thighs and draws erotic patterns with his fingers, teasing the direction the fingers will go.

"Please," I beg, my voice hoarse with desire. He looks up at me and smiles before kissing his way down to the apex of my thighs. He runs his tongue over my panties, causing me to moan even louder.

"Oh, please," I beg.

He looks up at me and smiles before kissing his way back to my breasts.

"Please what, Elowen?" he asks as he continues suckling one nipple while pinching the other with his fingers.

"Please, I... I need you," I plead again. He looks up at me and smiles before returning to the apex of my thighs. He runs his tongue over my panties one last time before pulling them off completely.

He looks up at me and smiles before diving in.

I gasp as he runs his tongue over me, "Oh god," I cry out as he licks my clit. "Please don't stop."

He slides a finger inside me, and I moan. I start to move my hips, thrusting against his mouth. "Fuck," I cry out again.

I can feel myself close to cumming.

I reach down and grab his head, pushing him into me harder. "Oh god, T-thorne," I cry again before biting on the back of his palms in ecstasy.

I cum hard, screaming his name as he continues to eat me out. He pulls away from my pussy and stands up.

He looks down at me and smiles, "I'm not done with you yet."

He grabs my legs as I try to stand up.

When he has my thighs in his hands, he pushes himself into me hard, making us both moan out. He continues to fuck me hard and fast, his hands on my hips as he slams into me over and over again.

I can feel my orgasm building up inside of me, and I know it's going to be a big one. He continues pounding into me until he cums deep inside of me, and it sends me over the edge, with a near roar of delight.

We both collapse on the bed as we try to catch our breath.

He rolls over and pulls me into his arms. I can feel him still hard inside of me, but he's not moving anymore, so we just lay there for a while before falling asleep in each other's embrace.