Chapter 9 - Thane #2
An uncomfortable, dreary silence stretches around the moment we should have shared a lovers’ embrace. Instead, I feel awkward tension as Elias gives a slow nod, signaling the end of the rite.
“It is done,” he says simply, and the witnesses bow their heads in acknowledgment.
No one claps. No one congratulates our union. The air remains thick, as if everyone senses how fragile this bond really is.
As I stare at Willow, she turns to leave without breathing another word, keeping her gaze pinned to the floor as if she's embarrassed about what we just did, as if it was wrong.
That's how it feels. Wrong.
And just like that, I feel it again—the ache I thought I buried years ago.
Maybe it’s guilt.
Maybe it’s something else, a deep sense of pining, my inner wolf's desires clawing their way out of the grave I tried to bury it under.
All I know is that when Willow walks out of the den, I follow her with my eyes until the door closes, flinching when it shuts behind her. I'm left with the heavy silence of everything unspoken between us.
The ceremony is over.
But nothing feels resolved.
Gulping hard when my vision blurs with an unwarranted veil of emotions over my eyes, I glance at Elias and offer him nothing more than a curt nod before heading to the door.
Just as I'm about to leave, I murmur a “thank you” to the members of the pack who'd come out for the private ceremony, unable to offer more when guilt and regret choke me.
I can't let her walk away as if this ceremony meant nothing. I was a fool in the past, but I'm not the same man I used to be back then.
Jogging through the snowy meadow, I follow the trail of Willow's footsteps in the blanket of snow covering Girdwood, leading toward my house on the east side of the village.
With my heart lodged in my throat and pounding against my ribcage, I see one window illuminate with the yellow light in Willow's bedroom, and I know she's back at my place.
I race inside, leaving the front door open in my haste toward her bedroom. Luckily, her door is still open, and the tearing rip of fabric echoes between the bedroom's walls.
“Willow…” I breathe, my breath coming out in hot pants as I push the door open with a firm hand.
She turns to me slowly, holding up the sleeve she tore from the dress against her chest, tears welling in her eyes as if she's mourning the death of something precious.
The only thing that keeps dying is the spark between us every time she pushes me away.
“What do you want now, Thane?” she groans, rolling her eyes as she lowers her head, clutching the ripped part of her dress to her chest as if it's armor.
“I—I came to check up on you,” I say earnestly with a frown tugging my brows lightly.
“Why?” she shrugs diffidently, her expression flat, eyes becoming listless pools again. “Are you hoping your chivalry will sweep me off my feet and have me falling into your arms so you can mate with me?”
As if Willow struck me with a stinging palm, I flinch.
Ouch.
That one struck a nerve.
“No,” I assure her, my hands lifting slightly as if in surrender. “I'm not here to mate with you, Willow. I promised that it won't happen. I'm not going back on that promise.”
“Yeah, but you believe that you can convince me eventually, right?” she scoffs, her eyes lighting up with the anger that's clearly brewing inside. “That I'm some idiot who will grovel at your feet just because everyone believes we're fated mates?”
“We are—”
“I don't care!” Willow bellows as she spins around, her back rising and falling with uncontrollable breaths. “I don't care that we're fated mates. It makes no difference. I'm not sleeping with you.”
Sighing heavily, I know I have to choose my words carefully, as if I'm walking on eggshells.
“Willow, I'm not trying to sleep with you,” I assure her, my voice as gentle as it can be. “I want to be there for you. I know you've been through a lot in your life, and—”
Willow cuts me off again when she spins around, glaring at me with fire burning in her blue eyes.
“You have no idea what life has been like for me, Thane!” she snaps, throwing her hands up and allowing the left side of her dress to slip off her shoulder, revealing half of one clothed breast, the dents of her ribcage protruding through her creamy flesh.
She doesn’t seem to care she’s exposed like this, breaths coming heavily, her nostrils flaring as she continues her verbal assault.
“The mating ceremony doesn't fix anything!
It doesn't make up for the past five years!
You don't know what it was like out there in Blood Claw!” she continues to yell as she takes a few steps forward.
“I am the wolfless omega, while you're the esteemed sub-alpha of this pack!
You've had life easy, so don't act compassionate toward me! I'm not buying it!”
When she exhales and glares at me, I see a glint of passion flashing through her blue eyes, her irises ignited by a fire I've never seen before.
She'd been hiding this part of her, this fiery side that attests to the powers lying dormant inside her.
I'm left speechless, in awe of what I've just witnessed, and for a moment, all I can do is stare.
Willow stands there like a storm ready to be unleashed, wild, vulnerable as her body trembles, her nostrils flaring furiously as her eyes become radiant. Her chest rises and falls sharply, and I know I should look away, give her the space she's demanding, but I just can't.
Because underneath the anger she just displayed, I know there’s pain.
And beneath that pain is something deeper, something she's trying so hard to hide from me.
Fear.
“I never said it was easy,” I murmur softly, my voice low and raw. “And I never claimed to understand what you went through. But I’m trying, Willow. I’m trying to make this right. I'm trying to make it all right.”
Willow scoffs, rolling her eyes as she turns away from me again, crossing her arms, but not in a defiant way. It's purely to hug herself. “You can’t fix five years of damage with a ceremony.”
“I’m not trying to fix it,” I whisper, stepping closer and tentatively reaching out toward her, but not fully. “I just want to start over again.”
She doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch when I take another cautious step forward. The distance between us is stretched with a tension that fills the air as if it's palpable, its sharp ridges touching my flesh, a magnetic electric current already stirring beneath my skin without touching her.
When I do finally reach her, I lift my hand slowly, being careful not to startle her, and let my fingers loosely settle on her shoulder.
She still doesn't flinch, allowing me to gently turn her to face me.
The moment becomes charged with the unspoken, the unspeakable, just the unwavering intensity of our mate bond as it flows from the touch.
To my surprise, and my relief, Willow doesn't try to deflect my touch, as if the fight has left her once again. Instead, she looks at me through the veils of heavenly golden lashes, blue eyes softening as my hand slides up to cradle her cheek.
Her left cheek, where my thumb traces the edge of her scar, prompting her to stop breathing as she goes utterly still beneath my touch.
“Don’t,” she breathes, voice trembling when my fingers cradle her cheek, her restraint evident on her face when it contorts. She's trying not to fall into the comfort my touch brings, but when she doesn't pull away, her actions betray her words.
“I should’ve protected you,” I whisper earnestly, the words flowing out from the sincerest place deep within my chest. “I should have believed in you instead of hurting you….”
Willow's lips part slightly, her breath catching as her eyes flick up to meet mine. For a heartbeat, it’s as if the entire world goes still and time freezes until it's just her and me and the charged space between us.
The air grows dense with the silence, something dangerous and sacred brewing between us all at once.
I recognize it for what it was, what it should have been five years ago, and I'm reminded of my guilt once again.
My thumb lingers on her skin, tracing the faint curve of her cheekbone with the pad of my thumb as I cup her cheek.
Her eyes glimmer with an array of emotions all at once, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I catch a faint whiff of her scent.
Jasmine.
The sweet scent was something I'd often catch back when she used to be in Girdwood, and we'd become friends. I always thought it was present because of the blooms in the greenhouse she nursed, but right now, inside my house, the scent is stronger than ever.
I should have realized it a long time ago and saved us both the trouble instead of rejecting her. What does it matter that she's wolfless, anyway?
It's only Willow who has this much power over me.
Slowly leaning in, I want to act on this silence, use it as a tool to apologize for the past. Just when I think she might let me in, she blinks hard, breaking whatever spell had settled over us.
“Don’t,” she whispers again, firmer this time, and takes a step back, removing herself from my touch. Then another that removes her from my space.
“Willow—”
“Please,” she cuts in, her voice barely above a whisper now. “Just…just leave me alone.”
Her eyes shine with moisture, and before I can find the words to draw her back, she turns and darts for the adjoining bathroom. The door slams shut, the sharp sound cutting through the silence like a blade that rings out in my chest and eardrums.
I stand staring at the closed door for a long moment, every muscle in my body frozen between wanting to knock and knowing better. My fingers still tingle from where they’d touched her, a cruel reminder of what I can’t have.
Not yet, maybe never.
Sucking in a slow breath, I finally step back, dragging a hand over my face. “Alright,” I whisper under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear if she’s listening. “I’ll give you space. I'm sorry, Willow. Please forgive me.”
My apology bears the weight of everything I should be apologizing for, but it's met with more silence.
The words hang in the air as I turn toward the door and leave, the echo of her heartbeat still pulsing faintly through mine, a rhythm I know I’ll never stop chasing.
For now, what Willow needs more than ever is space. Though I'm not sure what that means in the grand scheme of the demon threat, I have to consider Willow's feelings first.
It's something I failed at in the past, and I'll be damned if I make the same mistake twice and hurt her again. She doesn't deserve that.
She deserves to be put first for a change.