11. Thorne
ELEVEN
THORNE
The cabin stays quiet after Sadie closes the bedroom door.
I sit on the couch for a long time, staring at the low fire, letting the evening replay in my head.
She pulled away when I tried to kiss her.
Kept her distance all through dinner. Something’s bothering her, something heavy enough to dim the light that has been in her eyes these last few days.
I know better than to push. She has been through enough with Magnus and the fear that followed her here.
If she needs time and space, I’ll give it to her.
Even if it twists something tight in my chest.
I bank the fire, check the locks one last time, and head down the hall.
The bedroom door stands slightly open. Sadie lies curled under the quilt, facing away from me.
I don’t climb into bed beside her. Instead I pull the old armchair from the corner closer to the side of the bed and settle into it.
The chair creaks under my weight. It’s not comfortable, but comfort is not the point tonight.
I want her to feel safe. I want her to know I’m right here if she needs me, without crowding the space she asked for.
Sleep comes slow and restless. The house settles around us with small sounds. Wind in the pines. The occasional pop from the cooling logs in the hearth. I keep one eye on Sadie, watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing in the moonlight that slips through the curtains.
Sometime deep in the night her voice breaks the silence, soft and hesitant. “Thorne? Are you comfortable?”
I shift in the chair, stretching my legs out as best I can. “No. But I don’t mind.”
She stays quiet for a moment. Then she sits up, the quilt pooling around her waist. Even in the dark I can see the guilt on her face. “You shouldn’t have to sleep like that.”
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “I want to give you space, Sadie. But I also want to be close enough that you feel safe. If the chair does the job, I’ll take it.”
She looks down at her hands, twisting the edge of the quilt. The silence stretches until it feels heavy. I wait, patient, giving her room to speak or not speak. Finally she lifts her eyes to mine. “I feel bad,” she whispers. “I’ve been distant all evening. It’s not fair to you.”
I stand and move to the bed, sitting on the edge so I face her. Close, but not touching unless she wants it. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
She takes a shaky breath. The words come out in a rush, quiet but clear.
“I can’t believe how fast I’m falling for you.
These last few days have been the happiest I can remember.
But what happens when this is all over? When Magnus is gone and I don’t need to hide here anymore?
Will you still want me? Or am I just another woman you rescued?
Someone who needed saving and then you move on?
I keep wondering if you do this with every woman who shows up scared at the compound. ”
The confession lands soft and honest. For a second I just look at her, taking in the worry in her eyes and the way her shoulders tense like she expects the worst. Then a low chuckle escapes me, warm and genuine.
“Sadie.” I reach out and brush a strand of hair from her cheek, letting my fingers linger.
“I have never felt this completely wrecked over a woman before. Not once. You’re not just another rescue.
You’re not convenient or temporary. I’m all in.
Completely. If that scares you, I understand.
I will give you whatever space you need until you believe it.
Until you are ready to accept that this is real for me. ”
She searches my face, eyes wide in the dim light. I keep my voice steady, letting her see the truth in every word.
“You walked into my life running from real danger, and somehow you turned everything upside down in the best way. I want you here when the threat is gone. I want you here tomorrow and the day after that. Not because you need protecting, but because I can’t picture the cabin without you in it anymore.
Take your time figuring that out. I’m not going anywhere. ”
I pause, running a hand through my hair as old memories surface.
“I spent twelve years in the military. Special forces. Most of it overseas, places most people never hear about. We went in, got the job done, and got out. No attachments. No roots. Every mission taught me the same lesson. People come and go. Teams change. You learn not to hold on too tight because tomorrow you might be gone or they might be. I got good at keeping things surface level. Easy in, easy out. After I left the service and came to Haven 7, I figured that was just how I was built. Keep everyone at arm’s length.
Protect the compound. Do the work. Go to bed alone. ”
I look at her again, letting the weight of those years show in my eyes.
“Then you showed up. Scared, running, but with this fire in you that wouldn’t quit.
From the first night I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
Not in the way I used to think about women back then.
This is different. Deeper. You make me want things I never let myself want before.
A real life here on the mountain. Mornings where I wake up and you’re still beside me.
Nights where I come home and you’re waiting.
I have never felt that pull with anyone else.
Never let myself get wrecked like this. You did that.
And it doesn’t scare me. It feels right. ”
She stays quiet, but some of the tension eases from her shoulders. I don’t push for more. Instead I stand and move back to the chair, giving her the space she asked for earlier.
“Get some rest,” I say softly. “I’ll be right here.”
She lies back down, but this time she turns toward me. Her hand reaches out and rests on the edge of the bed, close enough that if she wants to, she can touch me. I settle into the chair again, the ache in my back nothing compared to the relief of having her fears out in the open.
The night stretches on, quieter now. I watch over her, heart steady with the knowledge that whatever comes next, I meant every word.
She’s not temporary. She’s mine, if she’ll have me.
And I’ll wait as long as it takes for her to see it too.
The military taught me how to endure. How to stand guard through long, cold nights.
Tonight that training serves a better purpose.
Guarding the woman who has finally made me want to put down roots and stay.