Chapter 17 - Thane
“Do you remember how we used to come out here back in the day?” I ask Willow, hoping to cut the awkward tension growing from the moment we left my grandfather's house.
Willow nods timidly, her hands nervously linked in front of her ever since she discreetly slid her arm out from under mine. Her resistance only means I have to work harder, not just to keep her emotions at bay, but also to show her my sincerity in being apologetic for the past.
Back then, I'd noticed Willow's keen interest in nature and anything that sprouted from the ground.
That's when I suggested she awaken the old greenhouse behind my grandfather's house, and witnessed her eyes light up with eagerness.
I'd often visit her there, and we'd become friends who often escaped both our worlds in these woods, chatting like old friends who'd known each other in past lives. That doesn't sound far-fetched anymore.
Willow and the greenhouse had become my escape from the rigorous training I was going through in preparation for Alpha Camp. In hindsight, my inner wolf must have been drawn to her because of the mate bond—a pull I didn't understand back then.
But it seems that the more she trains her witch powers, the stronger that pull becomes. It takes every ounce of self-control not to pull her into my arms and kiss her again, because I know she'll only regret it later and resent me for it.
Time is all I need to make her mine in every sense of the word. No longer driven by the need to unleash her powers, claiming Willow would only be something I'd do because we both want it.
And Goddess knows it's all I want.
But I must exercise self-control so I don't overwhelm her.
“Is that why you brought me out here tonight?” Willow asks skeptically, one brow raised. “To take a walk down memory lane?”
I chuckle nervously. “No…I mean…yeah, kinda,” I say as I run my hand over my nape. “We agreed to just be friends, right? Back then, that's what we were.”
Willow nods thoughtfully, a sigh falling from her lips. “I guess you're right….”
I pull aside a branch that hangs in our way, allowing Willow to step further into the woods before I follow her, noticing the way she shivers.
“Are you cold?” I ask, taking off my jacket before she can reply and draping it over her shoulders.
She turns to me with a frown. “You'll get cold.”
“No, I won't,” I grin. “I'm an alpha. My blood is way too hot.”
Willow does a double-take, appearing stunned as our eyes meet, something unspoken passing between us in the silence that follows.
She breaks eye contact and continues walking, and I follow close behind, clearing my throat when we approach the spot I'd set up for our dinner.
“Wait!” I call out a little too eagerly, and Willow snaps around hesitantly.
“What is it? Is it the demons again? Should we go back?”
Chuckling, I move in closer and shake my head. “No,” I reply. “This part of the woods is protected by Aurora's safety spells. We don't have anything to worry about tonight. But there's a bit of a surprise up ahead. You'll need to close your eyes.”
Her brows furrow with skepticism. “A surprise? I can't close my eyes. I might be a witch, but I can't see with my eyes closed,” she giggles, the sweet sound warming my heart.
It's nice to see her embracing her witch identity with confidence, and also dropping her guard just enough that she doesn't flinch when I close the distance between us.
“May I?” I ask, offering a hand. “I won't let you fall.”
Willow's hesitation is evident in her trembling fingers as she places her hand in mine, but the electric awareness passing through the touch has her quickly closing her eyes as if to ignore it.
I lead her toward a narrow clearing between the trees, close to the river that's since been iced over by the heavy Winter snowfall. The setting I prepared for tonight has a pit for a fire, but I lead Willow to the blanket spread over a wooden platform first.
“You can open your eyes now,” I whisper as I lean in and give her hand a gentle but firm squeeze.
Willow opens her eyes and immediately gasps when she sees the picnic spread I prepared for dinner.
“Thane…” she murmurs in awe. “You promised.”
“I know I did,” I throw her a wink as I signal for her to take a seat on the blanket. “I'm still keeping that promise, I swear. We're only here as friends.”
Willow clutches my jacket as she nods and heads to the blanket, and I tend to the fire, lighting the wood with a match.
Once I'm satisfied that it's burning properly, I join Willow on the blanket, lifting the lace dome cover off the trays containing different meats, a basket with a range of breads, and the side dishes in smaller containers. I pass her an empty plate, then open the wine and pour out two glasses.
“You've gone to great lengths to prepare all of this,” she observes softly as she takes the wine glass I offer. “Why?”
Sighing, I set the bottle down and stare at the rich ruby liquid in my glass, humbling myself by not meeting her eyes.
“Because I owe you every apology in the world, Willow. What happened in the past…there's really no reasonable excuse, except that I was a coward and thought my grandfather wouldn't approve of you as my mate.”
“That's changed?” she presses softly, and I nod, keeping my head bent.
“Back then, I thought I had to do everything by the book. Turns out, there is no book. You see,”—I take a deep breath—“my mother was an omega, and when my father died, my grandfather showed resentment toward her.
For the longest time, I thought he blamed her because she was an omega.
I overheard him berating her one night, as if it was her fault my father died.
It wasn't long before she died, too. She wasn't strong enough to keep fighting without my father.”
“I'm sorry,” Willow murmurs, prompting me to look up with a frown.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Willow. I am sorry for the way I behaved, and for being so cruel to you when Goddess knows that all I wanted to do was tell you that I felt the same way that night,” I declare, reaching for her hand.
With my thumb, I sweep her sleeve aside, revealing the bracelet I recognized when I saw it the other night.
“I shouldn't have rejected this gift. I shouldn't have rejected you.”
When I meet Willow’s cool, crystalline blue eyes, the air between us shifts, my hand still on her wrist.
“Thank you for sharing that, Thane,” she says gently, her eyes glossed over with tears. “I forgive you.” She lowers her eyes. “But things between us still can't change. I can't forget what I saw, and I know it's just a nightmare and not a vision, but I'm not sure I'm ready.”
“I know, and I'm not trying to pressure you into being with me.
Just let me be here for you, do things for you because I'm trying to make up for the past,” I tell her.
Though she won't tell me the full extent of what she saw, I trust her judgment and won't pressure her.
“I can't continue living if I'm not certain that I've done everything in my power to be there by your side.”
“As friends,” she adds, and I nod briskly.
“As friends,” I concede, raising my glass to her.
She clinks her glass against mine, and we both take sips of our drinks.
We proceed with our dinner then, stuffing our plates with breads and meats and the delectable side dishes.
The comfortable silence that follows feels familiar, coupled with only the crackling of the fire in the pit.
Luckily, the sky is clear tonight, and we can watch the stars as we enjoy dinner.
“So, when will you give me my present? I think I've earned it,” I proclaim boldly with my chin held up high once my plate is empty.
Willow's eyes immediately flicker to the hand where she's wearing the bracelet, pulling it out of her sleeve. “This old thing?” she snickers, embarrassed. “I thought you didn't want it.”
“I didn't think you'd have kept it all this time. I thought you got rid of it.”
Willow blushes profusely as she unhooks the bracelet from her wrist and holds it out for me.
“Well, maybe it needed to go to its rightful owner. I guess that's why I kept it all this time.”
“Thanks,” I say with a grin as I take the bracelet, my fingers brushing her palms and igniting that intense gravitational pull.
I stop myself from meeting her eyes just yet and tie the bracelet on my wrist. The charged tension between us is palpable, and it's unnerving that I can't act on it just yet.
“There's something I want to ask you about, and I hope you don't mind. I'm not trying to pry or be too forward,” I say as I look up.
“Gosh, Thane, just ask the damn question,” she giggles, rolling her eyes playfully.
“Okay.” I sit up, moving closer as I hold her gaze. “How did you get this?” I ask, smoothly reaching for her cheek with a careful hand. She doesn't flinch, but turns her eyes away.
“It was an accident…” she murmurs, blushing from embarrassment.
“Did the Blood Claw pack members do this to you?”
She nods briskly, then sighs, and I remove my hand, not wanting to come on too strongly.
“I was doing the laundry outside the pack center in Seward. They were renovating. Tools were lying around. Some of them came by and were”—she recounts the nightmare, her eyes full of the memory as she pauses to gulp—“they were being nasty, and then started pushing me around. I fell on a chainsaw.”
As she lifts her hand absentmindedly, anger brews inside my chest, escaping as a chorus of curse words under my breath.
She giggles nervously. “At least it wasn't turned on.”
“I'm sorry,” I say as I lift my hand and cradle her cheek this time.
“It's not your fault,” she murmurs, pointedly avoiding my eyes.
“It is my fault, Willow. I wasn't there to protect you. I sent you to the lion's den when I rejected you. Ultimately, it was my fault. You didn't deserve any of it.”