THORN
The faded purple bruise on her perfect skin sears in my memory.
Olcan will pay for this.
He had no right to lay a hand on her. No right to mark what is mine. I should have ripped his throat out when I had the chance. Gods, the aggressiveness of mating season is finally affecting me.
And yet…the sound of my name on her lips stopped me cold. The jolt of pressure at those simple words sent a wave of surprise flooding through me. Just like that, the bloodlust vanished. My claws retracted, my fangs dulled, and the murderous haze cleared.
Nothing has ever pulled me back from the edge before, or anyone that I know of for that matter. Could it have been the sheer surprise of it? Or is it something fated mates can do?
Confusion churns with the overwhelming pull of the bond. My mate … is Ember. The fiery, infuriating, virginal spirit who’s been haunting my thoughts since the first trial — hell, since I first saw her.
It explains everything. Why the trials failed me for a decade. How I subconsciously knew this was my last season. Something was pulling me through the snow and ice toward something I couldn’t name. This entire time. Toward her.
I pace the length of the stone hall. My hands flex and clench, over and over. The low hum of moans still rise from the temple like a haunting chant.
What have I done?
Peeling that blindfold off of me and seeing that fiery hair and perfect body sprawled beneath me, flushed from my touch, I almost spilled myself right there like an untried pup.
It’s got to be some kind of joke from the gods.
My true mate is the stubborn virgin I can’t stop wanting. Too good to be true. Too much.
So I left.
I ran.
She must be furious. Offended and possibly humiliated. I ruined it. After years of waiting (decades of trying) when the moment finally comes, I bolt like a coward.
What is wrong with me?
I whip around at the end of the hall and head for the temple, my strides long, urgent. The crowd is already spilling out the great doors, laughing, flushed, tangled in each other’s scents. I shove through, ignoring their grins and curious glances.
No vibrant red hair.
No sharp, ocean-blue eyes.
I push deeper, scanning every shadow, every corner of the empty temple. She’s gone.
“Alpha?” Tala’s voice cuts through the noise. She steps up beside me, concern shadowing her sharp features.
“No.” I say before she can even finish the question. “No, I think I messed it up.” My hands dig into my hair, gripping tight as if I can pull the mistake out of my head.
Her eyes narrow slightly. “It was her. Wasn’t it? The one with the hair like fire?”
“Yeah, it’s her.” My voice is rough, almost unrecognizable. “When I realized it was her, I just left. I left her.”
She tilts her head, unimpressed. “Typical male.”
“Tala.” My tone warns her I’m not in the mood, but the smirk lingers at the corner of her mouth.
“Sorry,” she says, schooling her expression. “You’re going through something. I should be sympathetic.”
I glance at her sidelong as her grin widens. It’s almost giddy. Her cheeks are flushed, hair tousled. “You’re smiling? Did you find a mate?”
Her cheeks flush deeper, “Maybe, but this is not about me. It’s about you. What are you going to do about this mess you’ve made?”
“There’s nothing to do tonight,” I say, even though the truth is I’d give anything to track Ember down right now and make her listen. “I’ve trusted the trials this far. Two more days of trials left. I’ll have to prove myself by then.”
“Then you’d better hope she’s still willing to be proven to,” Tala says lightly, but there’s an unspoken weight beneath it.
Before I can answer, a shadow breaks off from the thinning crowd. Olcan. His smirk is already in place, smug and knowing. Koa not far behind him.
“Thorn,” he drawls, voice slick and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s not addressing me by Alpha any longer. “Interesting performance in there. Can’t say I’ve ever seen someone walk away from a willing female before.”
My body goes still, the kind of stillness that means danger. “Careful.”
“Why? She’s not yours yet,” Koa remarks. “No mark. No claim.”
Olcan’s eyes glitter, sharp and taunting. “And if she is your mate… Well, then you’ve got competition.”
I step into his space, my shadow swallowing him whole. “Touch her again, Olcan, and I will tear your throat out. Trial rules or not.”
He doesn’t flinch. “You’d have to beat me first.” His gaze flickers — wolf to wolf — and I know exactly what he’s suggesting.
A Challenge.
I smile, but there’s no warmth in it. “I’ll bury you.”
He leans in, close enough for me to smell the stale copper of blood on his breath. “We’ll see whose name she moans last.”
Before I can lunge, Tala’s hand clamps down on my shoulder. “Not here,” she warns.
Olcan grins wider, knowing exactly what he’s doing. He and his brother walks out of the temple like he hasn’t just signed his own death warrant.
I watch them go, my jaw aching from how hard I’m clenching it. Two more days. Two days until I make Ember mine.
Olcan will regret ever speaking her name because if he so much as looks at her again, the gods themselves won’t be able to stop me.