Page 97 of The Alien in the Archive

Or maybe not. Maybe he knowsexactlywhat he’s done.

We’ve tried to establish rules around when we can creep into each other’s minds—how to extend an invitation, cuesto show we’ve accepted. From the beginning, Thorne has been respectful of my boundaries.

So why now?

Why doesn’t he trust me?

I don’t waste time trying to reason with myself or justify his actions; even my powers seem to be irritated when I head for the door, my coat zipping toward my hand before I can reach it. Then I’m out the door, heading to the Obscuary.

I’ve been inside the Obscuary, but haven’t been to Thorne’s alcove in two days…and even though I’m angry at Thorne, I can’t deny the excitement I feel at seeing him again, touching him, being with him. His mind touches mine, questioning, but it reminds me of that strange feeling I got when I woke up, like someone was in my house, sifting through my things.

I kick him out of my head, accidentally rolling a ladder along a bookshelf without touching it.

Oops.

Thorne keeps reaching out; I keep rejecting the contact. By the time I slide open the bookcase and step into his alcove, I’m practically seething. Thorne is in his chair, writing in his notebook, but he sets it aside as soon as I come in.

“Page,” he says, standing. “I was?—”

I cross the room in a few quick strides, getting nose to nose with him. “What were you doing in my head last night?”

Thorne’s frown is grim, guilty…but I can see him working it out in his head. And oddly enough, he’s open to me, and I can sense how hard he’s trying to find justification.

“I was worried about you,” he murmurs.

“You were worried,” I snap. “So instead of…I don’t know,asking me, you decided to just dig through my memories while I was asleep?”

He stands, towering over me, but I refuse to back down. “It wasn’t like that,” he says. “I didn’t go looking for anything. Your thoughts were practically screaming through the bond, even louder than you ever were at the beginning.”

“That’s not an excuse! Back then, you slipped in sometimes on accident, and you still tried to respect my privacy. But now…you just sneak in when you have questions? Don’t you trust me?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment I think he’s going to argue. But then his shoulders slump and he lets out a heavy sigh. “You’re right,” he murmurs. “I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

The sincerity in his voice throws me for a loop. I cross my arms and glare. “Why? Why would you do it?”

He huffs, and I can sense a sarcastic barb coming my way—the defense he always deploys when he’s uncomfortable—but then he exhales, shoulders slumping.

“Because I’m terrified for you,” he admits.

The admission dissolves my anger, though I try to hold onto it. I want him to feel how much his mistrust hurt me…but the fire in my chest flickers.

I shake my head, struggling to hold his gaze. “Thorne…”

“I saw you much you’re risking for me—your friendships, your career, your future,” he continues. “You’ve sacrificed so much already, and it’s too much, Page. I can’t let you destroy your life for me.”

“I thought we’d been over this?—”

“No,” he says, his voice sharp with frustration. “Ihaveto understand, Page. Why are you so intent on saving me when I’m not worth saving?”

For a moment, I freeze. Because…no,no. Fuck this. We keep having the same conversation, going in fucking circles.

“Don’t youdare,” I hiss, stepping closer. “Don’t you dare try to push me away because you think you’re unworthy. Iknow exactly what I’m doing, and I don’t need your permission to fight for you.”

His eyes darken, jaw tense. He searches my eyes like he’s looking for the lie, and I feel him push up against my thoughts again only for me to shove him out.

That seems to make him even angrier.

“You say that you’re fighting for me, that you know what you’re doing,” he snaps, “but we’ve already had to be apart for two days because of this danger.”

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