Page 58 of My Fated Mate

I take a step back, putting more distance between us. The air crackles with tension, thick with unspoken words and tangled desires.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," I say. "This… this can't happen."

"Why not? Because of what happened before? Because I was an idiot?"

"Because of everything," I snap. "Because I'm a prisoner here, surrounded by people who hate me. Because you only want me now because it's convenient—because I'm supposedly this fated mate."

The accusation must sting because Thorne flinches.

"That's not true," he growls. "I care about you, Elowen. More than you can possibly imagine."

"Do you?" I challenge, feeling vulnerable, and sensitive to some other unidentified emotion.

"Yes," he says, his voice fierce. "But this is bigger than us. The darkness is spreading, and you…"

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare use that as an excuse. I'm not some pawn in your game, Thorne. I'm a person with my own life—my own choices."

Tears well up in my eyes. I blink them back furiously, refusing to let him see me cry.

"I don't care about some prophecy or darkness," I continue, my voice shaking. "I just want to go home. I want my life back."

A heavy silence descends upon the room. Thorne stares at me, his expression unreadable.

Finally, he says, "I understand. But I can't let you leave. Not yet. You're in danger, Elowen. And I won't let anything happen to you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have brought me here in the first place," I argue. "Maybe you should have just let me live my life."

The words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the choices that have brought us to this point.

Thorne looks away, his jaw clenched tight. Then, he turns towards the door, his voice barely a whisper when he says, "Get some rest, Elowen. We'll talk about this again in the morning."

He walks out of the room, leaving me alone with the tangled mess of emotions churning inside me.

Tears finally spill over, cascading down my cheeks. I curl up on the bed, burying my face in the pillow, and draw in the scent of pine and damp earth—the lingering trace of Thorne.

It’s a bittersweet reminder of his kiss and the impossible situation I find myself in.

Chapter 17

THORNE

Frustration claws at me as Rylan grumbles under his breath. "Do we really have to go back to that dusty, cobweb-infested cave again, Thorne? And for what? Another cryptic prophecy delivered with a side of claw marks?"

I roll my eyes in exasperation. Rylan, my loyal beta, is many things—courageous, insightful, and a fierce warrior. But the prospect of visiting Mad Greta, the unsettling oracle who lives in near isolation, clearly isn't one of his strengths.

"Maybe I should have asked Zane to come along. He wouldn't complain this much."

Rylan scoffs. "Easy for you to say. Zane thrives on the weird and cryptic. Me, I prefer my advice straightforward, with minimal risk of being bitten."

A wry smile tugs at my lips. "There's always Tessa," I offer, knowing full well it's a losing battle. Tessa, my fiery omega, wouldn't hesitate to face Mad Greta, but her presence might complicate things.

This is a delicate matter, one best navigated with a touch of subtlety, something Tessa isn't known for.

Rylan shudders. "Oh gods, no. The last thing I need is Tessa peppering Mad Greta with questions about my nonexistent love life."

I chuckle, the sound strained against the weight of my worries. Elowen. The mere thought of her name sends a pang of longing through me.

It's been weeks since I brought her back to the pack, weeks filled with a cold distance that chills me to the bone.

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