Chapter 16 #2
He frowned, as though his brain wasn’t sure how my question related to the rest of the story. After a moment, he shook his head.
“Me neither,” I said. “But according to the Ravenspells, it’s impossible to truly sever a mating bond.
All you can do is damage it. And doing so affects the psyche.
The more damaged the bond, the more it damages the mind.
Selene told Izzy that when that happens, it alters a person’s state of mind.
Makes them more aggressive, obsessive, and prone to bouts of madness. ”
Calder’s face paled. He’d made the connection to what I was saying.
“Izzy didn’t go insane because Lucien’s aura protected hers—because they’re true soulmates. Trystan had no protection. And he lost his mind to the rage.”
My hand instinctively rose to my side. I wanted to stop, but I forced myself to continue.
“He caught me in an alleyway. I was walking home from Love Bites. I never saw him coming. One moment I was alone. The next, something struck me from behind. It happened so fast, and I couldn’t find the strength to shift.”
Calder’s eyes flared gold. I looked away.
“I still remember every blow,” I whispered.
“Sometimes at night, when it’s dead silent, I’m jerked back to that moment.
I see him and his witch with her hollow red eyes.
They haunt me. These words”—I pressed my palm against my side—“weren’t for me.
They were for Isadora. It was his message to her.
That she still belonged to him, no matter what.
I was merely the messenger.” A bitter laugh spilled from my lips. “But that wasn’t even the worst part.”
Calder took a step forward, and I shook my head. If he touched me, I’d never get this out. I’d break down and never be able to put the pieces back together again.
“When he was done—when I was nothing more than a mewling lump on the concrete, soaking in my own pool of blood—his witch took my mind.” Tears sprang to my eyes and before I could catch them, slid down my cheeks.
“Izzy said the witch used her magic to control me, called it possession. Whatever the witch did, it pushed me down into the deep blackness of my own mind. I couldn’t reach my wolf.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. They’d trapped me in my own body.
A prisoner, screaming into the void that no one could hear. And Trystan took control.”
A shuddering breath slipped past my lips.
“Then they left me there, bleeding out in the alley. Rue found me. She brought me here. Handed me to my brothers. Cassian lost control the second he laid eyes on me and exploded into his wolf form. Ricky and Felix yelled. There was so much yelling. And I couldn’t reach any of them.
Because Trystan was watching everything through my eyes.
Talking with my mouth. Then Isadora appeared. Someone must have called her.”
I swiped the tears from my cheeks.
“The second he heard her voice, I felt this gleeful joy overcome me. He wanted to hurt her like he’d hurt me. With my voice, he told her to come back to him, or he’d kill me and anyone else she loved. And then… he was gone. Just like that.”
Except he’d never truly left me, even after Izzy killed him. I felt his stain within me even now.
“The Ravenspells brewed healing draughts for weeks,” I continued, exhausted.
“Their potions healed my flesh, broken bones, and bruises. But they didn’t keep the nightmares at bay.
Nor did they keep me from checking every shadow for red eyes.
You can’t scrub away the feeling of a monster wearing your skin. ”
I braved meeting his gaze—though it took every ounce of strength I had to do so.
He hadn’t moved an inch. And I’d expected to find his eyes blazing with heat and power.
Instead, he seemed more hollowed out. He wasn’t growling.
He wasn’t pacing the room to burn off any aggressive, pissed off energy.
He simply looked like a man who had forgotten to breathe.
After a moment, his gaze dropped to where my hand still cradled my side. I hadn’t realized I was holding it, my fingers covering the damn words etched into my flesh.
“The witches aren’t sure why these haven’t healed,” I said. “Selene thinks it’s because he used a silver blade.”
Calder flinched at that.
Silver wasn’t toxic to werewolves, not like in the stories. But it did slow our healing. Perhaps to the point of permanently scarring a werewolf caught off guard in a dark alley in the middle of the night.
“Thorne,” Calder whispered.
Just my name. But the sheer, suffocating weight of the devastation behind it nearly broke me in half.
“Don’t,” I snapped. I forced my hand away from my side and squared my shoulders. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some abused puppy you pity.” I lifted my chin. “Those weeks were the worst I ever faced in my long-lived life, but I don’t need anyone pitying me—not even you. I survived.”
“You’re right,” he said, braving a step toward me. “You survived. And I don’t pity you. Not for one damn second. You’re the strongest fucking person I know. When I look at you, I don’t see a victim—”
I flinched at the word.
“I see a woman who went through something unimaginably horrific, and instead of letting it swallow her, she clawed her way back out and took back her life. I could never pity you, Thorne. Because I am in constant awe of you.”
My throat tightened so fast it physically ached.
He took another step, closing the distance between us until he stood right in front of me. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Close enough that I could see the absolute reverence etched into every line of his face.
“To hell with what anyone else in this town thinks,” he continued, his voice dropping to a rough, unwavering rumble.
“And it doesn’t matter if those scars never fade.
You don’t have to erase the damage to prove you’re whole, Thorne.
You don’t owe anyone a damn thing. Not Cassian, not the gossips, and sure as hell not me. ”
He reached out, his hand hovering just inches from my waist, offering comfort without forcing it.
“If the nightmares stay, they stay,” he said fiercely. “If you have to check the shadows for the rest of your life, then you check them. You survived. That is the only thing that matters.”
A pathetic, fractured sound tore out of my throat.
I had spent months bracing myself against the town’s pity, wrapping my trauma in steel so no one could use it against me. But Calder wasn’t looking at me like a tragedy. He was looking at me like a warrior who’d earned every single one of her battle wounds.
And I… I liked it.
Without warning, I grabbed the front of his Henley, twisted the thick cotton in my fists, and hauled him in for a kiss.
Calder let out a rough, desperate sound an instant before his arms banded around me, pulling me flush against his chest. One large hand slid to my nape, while the other settled against my waist, the heavy, warm weight of his palm settling right over my scars.
His lips parted against mine, and he kissed me with a slow, agonizing tenderness. This wasn’t like the kiss in the inn. It wasn’t aggressive or angry. It was delicate, gentle—but no less heated. When his tongue slid against mine, I moaned and sank into him, my fingers gripping his shirt tighter.
I’d built my life on the lie that I was fine without him. But now, with his mouth slanted over mine, pulling a breathless sigh from the bottom of my lungs, the truth was impossible to ignore.
He was my other half, and I belonged at his side. I didn’t want to lose him again. Not that I had any say in the matter. But that was a discussion for later, when things were calmer. Quieter.
Right now, I just wanted to enjoy being wrapped in his arms. Because for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t hurting.