Chapter 144: When the Darkness Stirred
Thorne
I stared at the mess on the floor, the food scattered like broken promises, and felt the silence press into my chest. My appetite was gone long before it spilled, but seeing it wasted only reminded me of how wasted I felt inside. My fingers twitched at my sides, curling into fists before I forced them to relax.
Varen whistled low, stepping back from the table as if he were impressed by the chaos I hadn’t even meant to cause.
"Well, there goes dinner," he said casually, but his tone carried an edge. "What are you going to do now, brother? Waste yourself next?"
I didn’t answer him. Words were too heavy right then, too sharp to let slip. Instead, I snapped my fingers, summoning a maid with clipped authority.
She rushed in, eyes wide, bowing low before she began cleaning the floor in silence. I didn’t even wait to watch her finish. I simply turned, slammed the door in Varen’s face, and walked deeper into my sanctuary—the inner room.
The air there was different. Heavy. Sweaty. Filled with the faint metallic tang of iron from the weights. My private gym had always been my battleground, the place where I tried to beat my thoughts into submission. I stripped off my shirt, tossing it aside, and wrapped my fists.
Then I attacked.
The punching bag swayed violently with every strike. My fists thundered against it until the skin across my knuckles burned raw beneath the wraps. My muscles strained, my breath came in ragged pulls, but I didn’t stop. Not even when my arms trembled. I needed the pain, needed the burn, because it was easier than thinking.
But thinking still came.
I couldn’t understand myself. That was the worst part. How could I hope to understand someone like Josie—soft, warm, too forgiving—when I couldn’t even piece together my own damn soul?
She’s not soft, my wolf growled inside me. The voice was raw, primal, cutting through my denial. Stop lying to yourself. She is strong. Stronger than you give her credit for. She carries scars you can’t even see.
I snarled aloud, slamming the bag again, harder, as if I could crush the voice out of existence. But it only grew louder.
You said your ex was too innocent. But I told you then—she was a fraud. She wasn’t pure. She wasn’t meant for you. Josie is different. She is your mate. She is the only truth that matters.
Sweat poured down my spine as I fought—not the bag anymore, but myself. My wolf was right, and I hated that it was right, because admitting it meant I had been wrong. Blind. Cowardly. And if I had been wrong about Josie, then maybe I had been wrong about everything.
I slammed my forehead against the bag, teeth bared.
"Shut up," I hissed, though it was myself I was fighting.
But the wolf did not quiet. It howled in my chest, demanding, reminding me that I had a bond I couldn’t escape, a bond I shouldn’t want to escape. My woman was more important than the lies I kept feeding myself. More important than my doubts. More important than my pride.
My battle raged until I lost track of time. Until my arms went numb. Until my chest burned with every breath. That was when the knock came.
A sharp rap against the door. Too insistent to ignore.
I froze, chest heaving. My jaw clenched. I didn’t want to answer. Not after clawing through this storm inside me. Whoever it was could wait.
But the knock came again. Firmer. And the scent that drifted through the crack told me it was Varen.
I swore under my breath, grabbed a towel, and wiped the sweat from my face before yanking the door open.
"What now?" I snapped.
Varen didn’t smirk this time. His face was tight, eyes narrowed in something I didn’t see often—unease.
"Something’s wrong," he said quietly.
I stilled, my instincts flaring. "What?"
"It’s Josie."
The world narrowed. My grip tightened on the towel, knuckles whitening.
"What about her?"
"She’s missing."
The words hit harder than any punch I had thrown at the bag. My chest clenched. I stepped forward, looming over him, my voice harsh.
"What the hell do you mean she’s missing?"
"You went too far," Varen muttered, almost to himself. "I shouldn’t have let it get this bad. I shouldn’t have—"
"Stop." My growl shook the walls. "Don’t blame yourself. She’s probably with Kiel. She always runs to him when—"
"No." Varen cut me off, eyes sharp. "Not this time. The maids saw you two shouting. They saw her upset. She didn’t leave calm, Thorne. She didn’t leave like she was going to meet her lover. She left like she was breaking."
My chest constricted painfully. I forced myself to scoff, to cling to the lie.
"She’s with Kiel," I repeated, though even I could hear the crack in my voice.
Varen shook his head. "You keep telling yourself that, but you don’t believe it. And you know it."
I wanted to snap at him, to tell him to shut the hell up. But I couldn’t. Because he was right.
My wolf snarled, restless, pacing in my chest. Find her.
I shoved past Varen, storming down the hall. My boots pounded against the polished floor as I searched, room after room, corner after corner. My voice echoed through the halls as I demanded answers from every servant I passed. None of them had seen her.
Minutes stretched into an hour. An hour of fire in my chest, of shadows gnawing at my mind. Then—finally—I caught her scent. Faint, but there.
I turned the corner just in time to see her slip inside. Relief struck me first, so sharp it almost buckled my knees. But then I caught another scent. Kiel.
Rage chased relief instantly, burning through my veins.
I followed fast, shoving the door open—only to find Varen and Kiel squared off, their fists clenched, their bodies coiled like predators ready to strike.
"Enough!" My roar filled the room. "The both of you—what the fuck is wrong with you? Can you never act like grown men?"
Varen sneered at Kiel, not backing down.
"Tell him," he spat. "Tell our brother why you’re really here. Why you’re always here."
Kiel’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking toward me but not with guilt. With defiance. He didn’t speak.
My fists clenched. My head throbbed. I was caught between fury and exhaustion, between the need to tear them apart and the need to understand what was happening.
"Why," I demanded, "am I stuck with two idiots who know nothing about women? About love?"
Varen laughed, but it was hollow. "Look who’s talking."
The words stung, but before I could strike back, the air shifted.
The lights flickered, dimming, shadows creeping along the walls like ink bleeding through the cracks. A foreboding chill settled into my bones, one I couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
And then I heard it.
Josie’s scream.
It pierced through me like a blade, shattering every wall I had built, every excuse I had clung to.
"Josie—" Her name tore from my throat, raw, desperate, as the darkness swallowed us whole.