Chapter 171: Unwelcome Salt
Josie
The silence after Thorne’s words was louder than his shouting could have ever been.
I stood there, staring at him — at the man who once made my heart feel safe, who now looked at me like I was some ticking bomb he couldn’t wait to get rid of. My chest tightened until it physically hurt to breathe. He didn’t even try to meet my eyes as he turned away.
"I said you won’t practice anymore," he bit out, his voice harsh and final, cutting across the air like a blade. "Not until I find a way to stop this madness."
Before I could say a word, he was already walking off, his broad shoulders stiff, his scent fading with every step.
I swallowed hard, feeling that old ache clawing up my throat. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him that this wasn’t fair — that I wasn’t the enemy. But the words got stuck somewhere between my heart and my pride.
Kiel’s hand landed gently on my shoulder. "Josie..." His voice was soft, the kind of soft that could break someone if they weren’t careful. "Don’t listen to him. Thorne’s just—"
"Angry?" I finished for him, forcing a weak smile. "He’s always angry, Kiel. Always."
Kiel sighed, his thumb brushing lightly against my arm. "He’s scared, not angry. You know how he gets when he can’t control something. He’ll come around."
"I doubt that." My voice cracked even though I tried to sound indifferent.
Varen stepped forward then, his tone quieter but steadier. "You can’t let this break you, Josie. We’ve come too far for that."
I looked between them — my mates, my chaos, my constant reminders that love could be both a balm and a curse. I wanted to believe them, but all I could feel was the emptiness Thorne left behind.
"Come on," Varen said softly. "Let’s go back to the pack house."
I nodded, unable to speak, and followed them in silence. The walk back felt like forever. My mind kept replaying Thorne’s words over and over — each one echoing like a wound that wouldn’t close.
By the time we reached the house, my heart felt heavier than ever. Kiel tried to lean in and kiss me, his blue eyes full of worry and tenderness.
But I couldn’t. Not right now.
I stepped back, shaking my head faintly. "Just... give me some time, okay?"
His hand fell to his side. "Josie—"
"Please," I whispered, already turning away before he could see the tears I was holding back.
I didn’t stop walking until I was in my room.
The moment the door closed behind me, I exhaled shakily, pressing my palms to my eyes. My head throbbed from everything — the argument, the pressure, the weight of expectations that came with being the "Luna-to-be."
I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the cold water run down my skin. The sting of it helped me think — helped me feel like I could still control something, even if it was just the temperature of the water hitting my back.
When I finally got out, wrapped in a towel, I sat at the edge of my bed. For a few blissful seconds, I thought maybe I could rest.
Then came the knock.
I frowned. "Who is it?"
"Carolyn, my lady."
Her voice was small, almost trembling.
I hesitated before answering. "What do you want?"
"I... I brought your meal, my lady. The kitchen prepared it fresh. I was told to serve you."
I sighed, dragging myself up. My stomach had been empty since morning, but my heart wasn’t exactly in the mood for food. Still, denying her wouldn’t help anything.
When I opened the door, she stood there, shawl covering most of her face. The faint scent of rosemary and broth drifted from the tray in her hands.
"You didn’t have to bring it yourself," I said, stepping aside. "You can just tell the maids next time."
She shook her head quickly. "No, please, my lady. It’s my duty. I wanted to make sure you got it warm."
Her insistence made me pause. Something about her tone felt... desperate. But maybe I was reading too much into things. I was tired — emotionally wrung out.
"Alright," I said finally, taking the tray from her. "Thank you."
Carolyn lingered, fidgeting with the edge of her scarf. "Would you... like me to wait while you eat? Just to make sure everything is alright?"
"That’s not necessary," I replied, forcing a smile. "Go on, you must have work to do."
"But I—"
"Please," I cut in, gentle but firm. "It’s fine."
She hesitated, her eyes flicking up to me before she finally nodded. "As you wish, my lady."
I watched her leave before setting the tray on the small table by my bed.
The soup looked perfect — steaming, golden, sprinkled with herbs. My stomach grumbled quietly, urging me to eat.
But the first spoonful nearly made me gag.
The salt hit like a slap to the tongue.
"Ugh—what the—" I coughed, spitting the soup back into the bowl. The taste burned my throat. "Gods, that’s awful!"
Before I could even process it, Carolyn came rushing back in, eyes wide with alarm.
"What happened?!" she cried, voice trembling.
"There’s salt in it!" I sputtered, wiping my mouth. "A lot of salt! It’s practically—"
"Oh no, no, no!" Carolyn dropped to her knees, hands clutching the edge of the table. "I’m so sorry, my lady! I swear I didn’t— I didn’t mean for that to happen!"
"Carolyn, it’s fine, it’s just—"
She started crying, actual tears slipping from beneath her scarf. "Please don’t send me away! I didn’t do it on purpose! The cook—she must’ve—oh goddess, I didn’t mean—"
I blinked, confused by her panic. "Hey, hey, calm down. It’s just salt, not poison. Stop crying, please."
But the more I tried to calm her, the more erratic she became — shaking, muttering apologies, rocking back and forth on the floor.
This wasn’t normal.
"Alright," I said softly, reaching down to help her up. "Come on. Let’s go talk to the kitchen, okay? We’ll sort this out."
She nodded, sniffling, but didn’t stop muttering under her breath. I guided her down the hall, her hands trembling the whole way.
By the time we reached the kitchen, the noise had drawn attention. Servants turned to stare. And then, as if fate wanted to make this worse, Thorne appeared in the doorway.
His gaze swept over me, then landed on Carolyn. "What’s going on here?"
I didn’t answer immediately. My throat tightened at the sight of him — the man I’d loved, who now made my heart feel like glass.
Carolyn spoke before I could. "Please, Alpha, don’t sack me! I didn’t mean to ruin the Lady’s food! I swear it wasn’t my fault!"
Thorne’s eyes narrowed. "Be quiet."
She froze, bowing her head.
"Josie," he said, his voice low but edged with irritation. "Explain."
I straightened, meeting his gaze. "It was just a mistake. The food was too salty, and she got scared. That’s all."
Thorne’s expression didn’t soften. "And why are you letting a servant talk over you like this?"
"She’s frightened," I replied, my own irritation bleeding through. "And you’re not helping."
His jaw tensed. "I’m trying to understand why my mate is standing here defending someone who can’t even cook properly."
"Because she’s human," I snapped before I could stop myself. "She’s allowed to make mistakes!"
Silence filled the room. Every servant looked like they wanted to vanish.
Thorne exhaled sharply and turned to Carolyn. "Bring the food."
She hesitated, glancing at me before scurrying off.
When she came back, she placed the tray between us, still trembling.
Thorne picked up the spoon, ignoring the way I frowned. "What are you—"
Before I could finish, he took a mouthful.
"Thorne!" I gasped, reaching out.
He held up a hand, chewing slowly. Then, to my surprise, he swallowed and looked at me calmly. "It’s fine."
"What?" I frowned. "No, it’s—"
He handed me the spoon. "Taste it."
I hesitated, but his stare didn’t waver. Finally, I took a small sip.
My eyes widened. The salt was... gone. Or rather, it was balanced. Perfect.
"But... I tasted it earlier. It was—"
"Different?" Thorne asked quietly. "Maybe you were too upset to notice."
I hated how condescending he sounded. "I know what I tasted."
"Then maybe it wasn’t the food that was the problem," he said softly, stepping closer.
My heart stuttered. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
He dismissed the servants with a flick of his hand. "Out. All of you."
The kitchen emptied fast. Only the two of us remained — standing too close, the tension between us thick enough to choke on.
When the last door shut, Thorne’s voice dropped low.
"How long," he asked, taking another slow step toward me, "do you plan to keep punishing me, Josie?"
My breath caught.