Chapter 28 Thorne
THORNE
Iam Thorne Fata.
I am the last living Prince of the Shadowlands.
I am hers.
Completion feels like this. Like I’m whole with her at my side, like I’m at my best inside of her, like I’m at one with myself for the first time in my life.
With her hand laced with mine, I can take on the world, and I will. When the time comes, I will scorch the Earth for her.
It will be my honor.
Running my thumb across the back of her hand, I look up at the sky as we head toward the center of The Vale, certain it’s never been as bright as it is today. The feeling of her contentment ripples through my bones, dousing me in serenity, but with that comes the tendrils of confusion.
She seeks answers, and she deserves them.
She also seeks food, which is where we’re heading.
Clearing my throat, I clench her hand in mine, drawing her attention to me. Her pupils are still blown, her purple hair falls in waves around her shoulders, and her shoulders are relaxed.
“Instead of spiralling in your thoughts over what you want to ask first, how about we start wherever your words take us first, and we’ll go from there,” I offer, and her nose crinkles.
“What gave me away?”
I shake my head. “Stop deflecting and start somewhere,” I muse, and her eyebrows pinch.
“Starting somewhere random could mean walking through an entire minefield before we get to the other side,” she mumbles, and I shrug.
“If it’s a path worth taking, I’ll be by your side. Besides, nothing in this life is easy; wrangling a conversation so we’re on the same page is a worthy battle.”
“You’re insane,” she blurts with a soft smile, and I find myself grinning too.
“For you, yes. Now, questions, hit me with them.”
She blinks at me for a few moments before her lips part, and I get the vision of my cock nestled against her tongue. Biting back a groan, I glance away, trying to contain myself as she speaks.
“Why did you give in?” she asks, her words so quiet the wind could almost steal them away, as if she doesn’t want to consider the response.
I bring her hand to my mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles as we continue to walk toward The Vale.
“I don’t know if it’s a case of giving in. It feels like I could see more clearly.”
“And what could you see?”
“You.”
She cocks a brow at me, rubbing her lips together nervously as she waits for more of an explanation.
I consider what I should say, but there’s no use glossing over the truth. “I saw you earlier, out by Institute Twelve with the blades of grass.”
She gapes at me in surprise, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she manages to speak. “I knew someone was watching me, but I thought I was overthinking it.”
I nod. “I was dealing with Nathaniel’s… remains in the trees when you appeared.”
“And you didn’t think to make yourself known?” Her lips twist, and I sense her heartbeat increasing.
“Maybe I should have, but I’m glad I didn’t,” I admit, and she nods, accepting the truth in my words.
“So I did do it?” she asks, hope dancing in her eyes as she glances at me, and I nod. “What did I do exactly?”
“Honestly, I’m not quite sure, but it was special, Elodie.”
She tries to hide the smile on her face, but I catch it. “How did that make you see me differently?”
“It didn’t.”
Her eyebrows furrow as she waits expectantly for another explanation.
I drag my hand down my face as I take a deep breath, eyeing the dining hall in the distance. Instead of taking the pathway that leads us there, I opt for the direction that brings us to the small smattering of restaurants and cafés.
This conversation doesn’t need to be held in a public place like the dining hall.
“I saw you exactly as I’ve seen you all of this time. I just actually allowed myself to look properly,” I admit, spying the pink hue across her cheeks.
“And what did you see?”
“Everything. My wants. My desires. My future. So I chose hot.”
“Hot feels… nice,” she whispers, squeezing my hand as she stares at where we’re connected, and my heart clenches.
“I also didn’t anticipate that you meant it in the literal sense,” she adds, a pointed look ghosting over her face, and I rub my lips together, aware that she looks mad, but eternally grateful that I can sense her feelings.
She’s not mad.
Thankfully.
I don't know how to respond, but it seems she's not looking for a response when she clears her throat and brings her gaze to mine.
“What did you mean when you said, ‘fate or choice’?” she asks, and my heartbeat stutters.
A moment later, her eyebrows knit together with a hint of confusion as she uses her free hand to rub at her chest.
Again, I'm like an open book, a new version of myself. Like I’ve been completely changed out for a new binding, cover, and title, yet it doesn’t feel as though the content has changed inside.
“They will rise with fire in their bones and ruin in their wake, step the shadows that you reap and give more than you shall take. Blood shall bind you, love shall break you. Only in the face of death shall the path be clear; the world mourns with the final tear.”
She stares at me with wide eyes for a moment as my words hang in the air before she clears her throat. “What is that, exactly?” she asks as we bypass the dining hall and continue down the quaint path, heading closer to the Italian restaurant I'm hoping has a spot available.
“That's the thing with prophecies, you never truly know what they mean. Only that they foreshadow your future, and that has practically been my motto for as long as I can remember,” I admit, raking my hand through my hair as I speak the truth.
Clearing my throat, I sense her eyes on me as I take a moment to try and compose myself. For what? I’m not entirely sure, but it does nothing to help. Instead of letting the silence turn awkward, I decide to flip the questions on her when she doesn't immediately throw another one at me.
“What made you give in?” I ask, repeating the same question she started with.
“Give in?” she repeats, and I nod.
“When you walked into your bedroom, and I was sitting there, you could have turned around and run for the door.
You could have screamed for help, damn, you could have slapped me across the face, but you didn't do any of those things,” I ramble, and her gaze lands on our joined hands again as she thinks for a moment.
“Did I have any idea that it would be you under that hoodie? Absolutely not. But did I also know that sleep and dreams clung to me in a different way every night that I woke up the following morning to notifications that you had been there? Yes.” Her voice is almost trance-like, as if she’s still in disbelief.
Me too, Echo. Me too. “You defied the lock on the door, but never to harm me. I was always settled in your presence, and I couldn’t wrap my head around why I would literally watch myself nuzzle into you.
I never would have guessed it was you. Not with the whole back and forth,” she admits, and my pulse thunders in my ears.
“I don't like it when you cry in your sleep,” I mumble, hearing her short intake of breath at the truth. “I could hear you from across the hall, so I started coming earlier and earlier in hopes of making it stop.”
This time, when our hands lift in the air, it's for her to bring my knuckles to her lips, pressing the sweetest kiss as our eyes meet.
“There's that bitch!” The shrill voice cuts through the air, breaking our moment and drawing our attention to the red-headed she-devil that continues to infiltrate Elodie's life.
At the sight of her, Elodie's hands drop from mine—not with embarrassment, but in preparation.
The last time I saw the two of them in close proximity, Willow was not faring too well at the hands of Elodie's fists. That was when we were in the Institute Games and no one had access to their magic.
This time, Willow has her wolf on command, and she's not alone either. She's joined by her second-favorite vampire, who seems intent on aiding her demise.
Maybe he really does love her. Maybe that's what I think for Elodie, because I would follow her blindly into the darkness, just like this fool seems to do. Only he's chosen the wrong beacon of light to guide him.
“What now, Willow?” Elodie grunts, and Tiran scoffs, stopping at the edge of the path as Willow trudges forward.
Elodie does the same, refusing to back down as they stare off with one another.
“You think you can continue to show up here, wreak damage and havoc where it's not needed, and get away with it?” Willow snarls.
“My mother has continued to warn me about you, but it's about time I didn't follow their orders and took matters into my own hands.” Her eyes burn amber as her wolf creeps to the surface, and my spine stiffens.
I will defend my Echo at all costs.
With my hands ready at my side, I take a single step forward, but when Elodie subtly shakes her head, I immediately know it’s not at Willow.
I know it's aimed at me.
“You’d better watch your back, because there's no way in hell you're going to make it to the end of the Institute Games, which means you are never going to ascend. You’re never going to simply exist here, either. My duty is to bring you to your end,” Willow warns, turning with a huff, and I wonder if she ever gets a jaw ache from all of the bullshit she talks.
She storms back toward Tiran, tossing her hair over her shoulder with unnecessary dramatics, and Elodie turns to me, rolling her eyes as she waves her off.
Anger vibrates through her veins, but she doesn’t bother to waste her energy on Willow. Instead, she mutters under her breath to herself.
“One day, I’m going to—”
“Elodie!” I yell, my gaze darting over her shoulder to where Willow storms back toward her.
My shadow magic floods from my palms, spreading across the floor in a bid to ward off the evil that is this bitch, but Willow is quicker than I anticipate, claws extended as she reaches for Elodie.