THORN
The last song ends, and Ember has danced with every male in here but me.
Steele twirls her around and dips her low.
I can’t take this anymore. I stalk from the room, desperate to put space between me and every male within fifty yards of me before I break the sacred rule of no blood in the temple.
If I had my way, I would rip apart any man who touches her.
I don’t even look back as I take the temple steps two at a time.
Slamming the door shut of my chamber so hard, dust shakes from the stone.
I will wait to find her tomorrow because I’m not in the right frame of mind to be around anyone right now.
Thankfully, the fire is still lit in the hearth as my feet pace before it. Gods, what is happening to me?
Waiting to see Ember until tomorrow was easier said than done, especially after seeing her in every male’s arms but mine tonight. Sleep was impossible. I’ve waited ten years to find my mate, and now that I have her, I’m left waiting again.
Her scent is in my nose. Her kiss still lingers on my lips.
My pacing wears grooves into the planks of the floor.
Each time I pass the window, the moonlight cuts across me like a blade, accusingly.
My mate is upstairs. In this same castle.
Breathing the same air. And I am supposed to wait until the next trial to see her again?
I can’t.
I prowl the hall, back and forth, before giving up entirely and letting my feet take me where they want — up two flights of stairs to the third floor. Every door I pass makes my heart hammer harder, until I reach the last one. Her door.
For a moment, I hesitate, fist still raised to knock. Is this a mistake?
Before I can knock, it opens. Ember nearly collides with me, her short, fiery hair glowing even in the dim light. Her eyes widening.
“Thorn,” she gasps, breathless.
The sound of my name on her lips shatters what little restraint I had left. I catch her face in my hands and kiss her. She melts into me instantly, her mouth soft and eager against mine, like she’s been waiting for this moment too.
“Ugh, you guys know I’m here, right?”
A male voice cuts through. I growl, low and possessive, until Ember pulls back, flush and breathless, but still within my arms.
“Thorn,” she coughs, slipping from my touch. “My brother, Roman.”
His face scrunches up and brows furrow in disgust. “I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but—I think I’m going to be sick.”
Ember rolls her eyes. “Oh, go to bed.”
“I’m trying,” he groans, tossing back dramatically, “between your pacing and whatever this is—” he waves at us.
I don’t give him a chance to say more. “Come,” I murmur, threading my fingers through hers. She lets me lead her down the stairs, away from her brother’s eyes, and into the sanctity of my chambers.
The heavy oak door closes behind us with a thud.
My room stretches wide and tall, three arched windows spilling sunlight across polished stone.
A fire burning low in the grate to the right, while to the left, my bed looms — massive, but empty, always empty.
The scent of old cedar beams mixes with the faint smoke of the hearth.
Ember steps inside, gaze sweeping over everything. “Wow, it’s nice to be Alpha, isn’t it?”
“It has its advantages,” I try for casual, but my voice is rough.
Her lips curve, sly. “Like being big and broody and having a dick that expands?” she teases, throwing her words back at me from a few days ago.
I can’t help the laugh that rumbles in my chest. “Something like that.”
For a moment, silence stretches between us, broken only by the crackle of the fire. She stops at the window, her hand trailing over the paneled glass. “Why did you leave during the Taste trial when you saw it was me?” she asks softly. “Did you not want it to be?”
I swallow. “Because when I saw it was you, the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about, the one every wolf has made a target. It was all too much.”
Her eyes cut to mine. “You think this isn’t too much for me? At least you had years to prepare. I had nothing.”
“Prepare?” I huff. “I’m a professional at being alone, Ember. That’s all I’ve ever been.”
Her gaze softens at our sense of mutual understanding, the firelight dancing across her face. “Why didn’t you ever take a mate during mating season before now?”
“Because I believed in the trials.”
“Believed?” she presses.
“Believe,” I correct, holding her gaze.
The air thickens, humming with unspoken things. My wolf clawing inside me, demanding I claim her, mark her, taste her again.
“What makes it different this time?” she whispers, “What makes you so sure?”
“Everything,” I say simply. “Your scent. Your song. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
She frowns, intrigued. “My song?”
“The howling trial,” I remind her. “What did you hear?”
Her voice is soft, “A song of loneliness. Cold isolation. But it ended with … hope.”
“Exactly.” I step closer, every muscle in me straining to touch her.
“To me, you smell like jasmine and cedarwood, which reminds me of my youth and my parents in the pine trees of Maine. Fated mates’ scents remind them of happiness and comfort.
While the howling brings us deeper into their soul, telling us their inner song. ”
“Fated mates,” she whispers, “The trials were created for that purpose, I suppose, but so many mates come and go through the cave or return from their mating season—I never truly believed in its power before. I can tell the way you are looking at me, you did?”
“I’m not going to lie, after these ten long years, I had started to doubt. But then I can’t explain your scent. Jasmine and warmth. Home. Mine.” My throat resonates with the last word.
Her lips part, a sharp inhale rattling between us.
“Ember,” I growl softly, the Alpha power hums in my voice before I can stop it, “come.”
Her green eyes flare. “Don’t use your Alpha voice on me. You’re not my Alpha. You can’t order me around.”
I shoot her a wicked smirk. “I disagree. An Alpha’s voice isn’t limited to his pack. We hold it back out of respect. But I could command anyone I wanted.”
She bites her bottom lip, fighting some internal battle. Then, eyes flaring, edges of her luscious mouth quirking up in a dare, she demands, “Prove it.”
Heat tears through me. I step closer, every line of my body vibrating with restraint. “Kneel.”
For a heartbeat, she resists. Then, shuddering, she folds to my power, lowering herself before me.
Gods. The sight of her kneeling at my feet unravels every shred of restraint I have left. I release the command instantly, but it doesn’t matter — the image is already burned into me.
Her gaze lifts, wide and breathless, before flicking downward. She spies my hardness that only grows at the sight of her, and her lips curve into a sinful grin.
“Really? You’d never use that on me, but you clearly like the view?”
“I’d never force you,” I say roughly. “But I’d be lying if I said I don’t enjoy this.”
Her smile turns mischievous. She crawls forward on her knees, slow and deliberate. When her hand wraps around my cock, I nearly lose it.
“Gods,” I groan, my head tipping back.
“I’ve never done this before,” she whispers, glancing up at me with those eyes. “But I’ve seen enough to know how. Tell me if I hurt you.”
I cup her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Ember, nothing you could do can ever hurt me.”
Then her lips close over me, hot and soft, and the world ceases to exist.
“Fuck,” I hiss, fisting her hair as her mouth slides down my length. She sucks me deep, her tongue tracing the underside, every stroke driving me closer to the edge. She groans around me, the vibrations rattling up my spine, and my hips buck helplessly, chasing the wet heat of her mouth.
My wolf howls inside me — mate, mate, mate — until the sound fills my skull.
Her nails dig into my thigh, anchoring herself while her eyes lift to mine, dark and wicked even as her lips stretch around me. That look alone undoes me.
“Ember … I’m—” the warning caught in my throat.
She doesn’t stop. If anything, she sucks harder, her tongue swirling as I spill into her mouth with a hoarse growl.
“Gods,” I snarl, clutching her head as wave after wave tears through me. She swallows every drop, then pulls back, licking her lips with a satisfied smile.
“Ember, I—” My chest heaves, words fumbling.
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes glinting. “I know.”