Chapter 149: Rearranged for Me
Josie
I panicked. My chest was a cage of fire, my hands clammy as dozens of eyes bore into me. Their whispers were sharp, daggers slicing into my skin. I could almost feel their accusations crawling up my neck, branding me with words I had long feared—witch, cursed, outcast.
Before I could crumble completely, Thorne stepped forward. His towering presence seemed to silence the noise as he reached out and smoothly took the mic from my trembling hands. His fingers brushed mine—steady, warm, grounding me in ways I wasn’t ready to admit.
"She is not a witch," Thorne’s deep voice thundered across the crowd, each word crisp and commanding. "She is not cursed. Josie is the goddess’s blessing to us all."
A ripple of shock went through the gathering, as if no one had expected him to defend me so boldly. My heart stuttered. Blessing. He had called me a blessing.
Then, to my surprise, Kiel joined him. My brother’s face was firm, his jaw tight, but his eyes—those mirrored shades of mine—burned with conviction as he grabbed another mic.
"You all cast stones at me once," Kiel began, his voice rising in passion. "You called me unworthy, a disgrace to the werewolf name, because I wasn’t like the rest of you. But I never stopped being myself, no matter what you threw my way. And today, I stand here telling you this—having Josie by my side is the greatest gift the goddess ever gave me. She is no witch. She is my sister. And she is worthy."
The crowd quieted further, murmurs softening into something I couldn’t yet recognize—respect? Acceptance?
A spark flickered inside me. Their defense was like a rope pulling me up from a deep pit I’d been drowning in for years. I took a breath, shaky but determined, and forced myself to step forward.
If they could speak for me, then I could too.
"I—" My voice cracked. I swallowed hard and tried again. "I’m glad I lived this life. Even with the pain, the doubt, the hatred I once carried for myself... I’m glad. Because it led me here. I used to despise who I was, but not anymore. I don’t want to hide. Not anymore. I want to embrace myself fully, as I was meant to."
My throat burned as tears welled, blurring the faces in front of me. I wiped them quickly, embarrassed, but the crowd was no longer hostile. Many looked moved, others contemplative.
One by one, I saw nods ripple through them. Shoulders eased. Eyes softened. Whispers turned into chants of support.
A sob clawed at my throat, but I smiled instead. For the first time in so long, I felt like I belonged.
Thorne wasn’t finished. He raised his chin, gaze sharp as his voice cut through the crowd once more. "But know this—Michele is no innocent. She is a criminal, wanted for her schemes. She sought to destroy the royal family with lies, but her plan has failed. And it will continue to fail, because we stand united."
Gasps echoed, followed by a storm of voices swearing allegiance. Men and women shouted their loyalty to the royal family, vowing to fight for the truth, to protect what was theirs.
The atmosphere shifted entirely. What began as suspicion and hostility ended as unity, roaring like fire caught in the wind. It was overwhelming, breathtaking.
I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammer against my palm. Somehow, against all odds, we had won them over.
When we finally left, the night air outside was cool against my overheated skin. My legs felt like they barely remembered how to work, but Thorne’s steady presence on one side and Kiel’s warmth on the other anchored me.
We walked back to the pack house, and as soon as we stepped inside, I spotted Marcy waiting by the staircase. She held a bouquet of bright flowers in her arms, her smile radiant, practically glowing.
"Josie!" she exclaimed, rushing toward me. She thrust the bouquet into my arms before I could react. "You were amazing up there. Truly amazing."
I flushed, hugging the flowers to my chest. "Marcy, you didn’t have to—"
"I did." She grinned, then her expression shifted to something almost mischievous. "I also have news. Big news."
My brows furrowed. "What kind of news?"
"I’m engaged!"
My jaw dropped. "Engaged? You? Marcy, you always said settling down wasn’t your thing. You swore you’d never tie yourself down until fate forced your hand."
She laughed, cheeks pink. "I know what I said. But I realized something recently. I don’t need to wait for a mate that might never come. I don’t want to keep waiting while life passes me by. I want to start my own family on my own terms. And I’ve found someone who feels the same."
I blinked at her, stunned, trying to process it. "So you’re really...?"
"Yes." She nodded firmly. "And I’d love for you to come to the engagement party."
My lips parted in surprise before curving into a genuine smile. "Of course, I’d love to. I wouldn’t miss it."
We chatted more, her laughter bubbling as she spoke about her fiancé, her plans, her dreams. For once, she seemed utterly free of hesitation, and it was infectious.
Later that evening, I sat with Kiel and Varen. The warmth of earlier was still lingering, though exhaustion clung to my bones.
"I’ll come with you to Marcy’s party," I began, but Kiel shook his head.
"Josie," he said gently, "Varen and I already have matters to handle that night. We won’t be around. But..." His gaze flicked toward Thorne’s office, then back to me with a sly smirk. "You should talk to him about it."
My heart lurched. "Thorne? I—no. He won’t want to go. He barely tolerates being in the same room as me, let alone a party."
"You won’t know unless you ask," Kiel teased, standing and tugging me to my feet. "Come on. Let’s go."
Before I could protest further, he was already dragging me down the hall. My pulse raced as we stopped outside Thorne’s office.
"Kiel—"
But he ignored me, shoved the door open, and all but pushed me inside. Then—click. The door shut behind me, locked from the outside.
I spun, fists hitting the wood. "Kiel! Open the door!"
Silence.
I groaned, turning back around, only to freeze.
Thorne sat behind his desk, shirtless, broad shoulders gleaming faintly under the dim light. His dark eyes fixed on me, cold and unreadable.
Heat rushed to my face. I swallowed hard and forced my gaze upward, though my eyes betrayed me, flickering over the defined lines of his chest before I could stop them.
"What do you want?" His voice snapped like a whip.
I stammered, fumbling with my words, then blurted out the truth in a rush. "I—I want you to go to a party with me."
His brows shot up. "A party?" His tone dripped disbelief.
"Yes," I muttered quickly, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. "Forget I asked. I’ll find another way."
I turned to leave, cheeks burning, but his voice stopped me.
"I don’t do parties," he said flatly.
My shoulders sagged. "Right. I figured as much."
But then, after a beat of silence, his voice softened, deepened. "Still... I can rearrange my schedule for your sake."
I froze, breath catching. My head turned slowly back toward him, eyes wide. He met my gaze, expression still guarded, but there was something in his eyes—something I couldn’t quite name—that made my chest ache.
For me. He would rearrange his world for me.
And that was where everything shifted.