9. THORNE

Chapter 9

THORNE

Sunlight filters through the cracks in the shutters. It paints dancing patterns across Elowen's face and makes her look ethereal.

She sleeps peacefully beside me; her brow furrows in a way that makes me want to smooth it out with a gentle touch or with my lips.

I smile at that notion, unable to hold myself back as I brush my lips across her brow.

A soft murmur escapes her, and a peaceful smile plays on her lips.

For a moment, I simply lie there, lost in the quiet beauty of my mate—the tangled mess of her hair, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the lingering scent of wildflowers clinging to her skin.

My gaze lingers on the curve of her neck, the spot where I nearly… But I stopped. Thank God I stopped.

Last night was a blur of emotions—desperation in the face of battle, the heartbreaking realization about the prophecy, and then, the unexpected comfort of Elowen.

And then, it happened. One stolen glance, the scent of those darned wildflowers clinging to her hair, and I was lost.

Last night, I wanted nothing more than to claim her, to etch my mark upon her skin and bind our fates forever.

The need to do so, to bite her and etch my mark on her flesh, had been a primal urge, a roar from my wolf that echoed through every fiber of my being. But even in the heat of the moment, a sliver of reason held on.

As I watch her sleep, I can't help but reach out, my fingers trailing lightly down her arm. Her skin is warm and smooth. The urge to wake her, to lose myself in her again, is a constant battle within me.

But I hold back—because I have to.

A soft groan escapes Elowen's lips, and she stretches, her bare shoulder brushing against mine. A jolt of heat shoots through me, and I growl softly.

My hand instinctively reaches out, tracing the outline of her collarbone and the delicate curve of her shoulder.

Elowen's eyelids flutter open, her gaze meeting mine with a sleepy smile.

"Good morning," she murmurs sleepily.

"Good morning, Elowen," My voice is rough with unspoken emotions.

I gently brush a strand of hair from her face, my touch lingering a moment longer than necessary.

There's so much I want to tell her—about the prophecy, about the weight on my shoulders, about the devastating realization that dawned on me amidst the chaos of the battle.

About the fact that for the safety of our world, I won't be able to take her as my mate.

But the words remain trapped behind my lips, a heavy secret that threatens to suffocate me.

"How are you feeling?" she asks. The concern and care in her eyes twist the knife in my heart, already bleeding from the weight of the truth.

"Sore."

Pain, I can handle. The battle scars will fade, but the ache in my chest for a future I can't have… that might never heal.

Elowen reaches out, her fingers brushing against my cheek. Her touch is light, a feather drifting across my skin, yet it sends a rush of heat through me.

There's a question in her eyes, unspoken but clear. A question about us, about last night, about the future that hangs so precariously in the balance.

Why did I not claim her?

That's not a question I can answer without hurting her.

It's not a question I can answer at all.

Days have turned into weeks since I first came here, and I'm still here, lingering in the Ember Pack territory like a bad memory.

The truth is, leaving feels like ripping a piece of my heart out. Every shared meal, every stolen glance her way, fuels the growing fire in my gut.

It's a fire of desire, of a longing that shouldn't exist.

Elowen deserves a future filled with love, with a mate who can offer her his whole heart, not one fractured by duty and the burden of prophecy.

Yet, here I am, stealing moments like a thief in the night. Selfish indulgences, breadcrumbs of affection I have no right to offer.

The longer I stay, the harder it will be to walk away.

"Do you have plans for the day?" She asks, wiggling her brow in her mischievous way and I grin, then stop myself.

No.

Taking a deep breath, I push away from the bed. "I should check in with the enforcers," I say gruffly.

Elowen's face falls. "Oh."

I can't bear to see the hurt in her eyes. With a nod, I turn and walk away, the heavy weight of guilt settling over my shoulders.

Stepping out of the room, a wave of dizziness washes over me. The world seems to tilt on its axis, my vision blurring at the edges. It's not just the potent herbs coming from Pretty Ellie's hut that makes me see double. It's the scene unfolding before me that sends a jolt of disbelief coursing through me.

In the clearing, the Ember Pack warriors are bustling with activity, an air of festive anticipation hanging thick in the air.

I frown. Do I even need to ask what's going on here? I've had similar celebrations in my own pack.

I think?

Women weave garlands of fragrant flowers, their chatter punctuated by bursts of laughter.

Young pups chase each other around the perimeter, their joyful yelps echoing through the clearing.

Even Pretty Ellie has a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she supervises the preparations and watches over the mischievous pups.

But it's the sight of a raised platform adorned with vibrant tapestries and flickering torches that slams into me like a physical blow.

Oh yes, I know what's going on.

A mating ceremony. They're planning a mating ceremony. This is the party to announce it.

My heart stutters in my chest like a trapped bird desperate to escape.

Who's mating ceremony is it?

The answer rings loud and clear in my head. They have now decreed that Elowen and I are to be mated.

I take a step back and try to distance myself from it.

It's not possible. This shouldn't be happening.

The knowledge that Elowen doesn't have the fated mate's mark hangs heavy in the air, an unspoken truth amidst the celebratory preparations.

I have received messages about more rogue sightings, so no matter what I wish to do differently, I understand the urgency, the desperate need to find my fated mate before the darkness encroaches on everything in its path.

I can't understand why the moon goddess would make such a prophecy only to give me a normal mate who isn't the fated one.

I still don't understand anything.

Frustration flares hot within me, threatening to consume me. Before I can storm into the clearing and ruin everything, Ellie looks up from the young pups, her gaze falling upon me.

"Thorne," she narrows her eyes at me as if she knows what I'm about to do. Pretty Ellie, who usually disapproves of everything, speaks in a surprisingly mild voice. "Feeling better?"

I clench my jaw and nod, nudging toward the exciting celebration going on. "Enough to question the timing of this… celebration." The word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Ellie's smile falters. "There's always time for a new celebration, pup. Normally, we wouldn't think of this," Her voice softens. "But the victory against the rogues, that news spread like wildfire. The pack feels… optimistic.

They believe that with our packs combined, the threat is basically diminished. We might be small, but I know you've noticed our warriors are fierce. One warrior from us is like ten."

Optimistic. The word hangs heavy in the air.

They believe the danger has passed, that they can afford a moment of celebration, a joyous declaration of unity between our packs.

But I know better. The rogues were just a skirmish, a taste of the true battle looming ahead.

And the weapon we desperately need, the fated mate prophesied to stand beside the Alpha, remains elusive.

A wave of despair washes over me, a cold dread that chills me to the bone.

Elowen, with her kindness and passion for healing, deserves a life filled with love and laughter—not a life tethered to a duty she can't fulfill, a life forever overshadowed by the prophecy.

Ellie places a hand on my shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. "We understand your burdens, Thorne. You may think our pack is too weak to stand beside yours, but we aren't. We are gifted. This ceremony… It's a celebration of hope, of the strength we find in unity. Perhaps…" she trails off, her gaze flickering towards the hut where Elowen is in the room. "Perhaps it's a chance to celebrate the bonds we forge along the way, even if they are not the ones we wanted."

A chance to celebrate a bond I can't fully claim, a love story destined to remain unfulfilled.

For tonight, at least, I can allow myself a moment of respite, a stolen glance under the moonlight, a shared laugh with the woman who sets my wolf howling, even if the path ahead remains shrouded in uncertainty.

But tonight is all I give myself.

It won't last more than this night.

The charade can't continue. I have to find a way to break it to Elowen, to explain the truth about the prophecy, about the desperate search for the fated mate.

It will be a painful conversation, a conversation that might shatter the fragile bond we share. But it's a conversation that has to happen for her sake and mine.

Then, as if I called her, Elowen emerges from the hut, blinking in the sunlight.

A gasp ripples through the crowd, followed by a chorus of cheers and congratulations. She's dressed in a simple gown of woven white, her hair adorned with a crown of flowers.

A blush blooms across her cheeks, making her beauty even more breathtaking.

In the pre-mating ceremony, the female is dressed in pure white to show her beauty to the world while her mate watches with pride.

Elowen scans the crowd, her eyes finally locking with mine. A smile, hesitant but hopeful, curves her lips. In that moment, the world around me fades away.

Wow.

There's only her, the woman who makes my wolf howl with desire, and my heart ache with a love that feels forbidden.

But the dream shatters as quickly as it forms.

Elowen isn't the fated mate. She doesn't have the power to stand beside me in the coming battle.

Mating her would be a betrayal, not just of the prophecy, but of her.

Despair claws at me, a relentless beast tearing at the last vestiges of hope. I can't have her, but the thought of someone else claiming her as his mate, of seeing another wolf touch the skin that burns for mine, is torture I can't bear.

As Elowen gets closer, her smile falters under the weight of my heavy gaze.

No, I can't do this.

With a final, agonizing look at Elowen, I turn and stalk away from the clearing.

As I walk away, my wolf claws and tries to burst out of my chest to mourn. I see Viktor and Bjorn standing in the crowd and watching me with unreadable eyes.