I can't go through with becoming Thane's mate. After what he did to break my heart, becoming his mate would be crazy.
I hate him now.
Leaving his bedroom, I quickly slip into the guest bedroom I'd used last night, grabbing my sack and stuffing the few possessions I have inside before pulling the drawstring. I wasn't able to escape Seward, but Girdwood is different. No one even knows I'm here, except for Thane and Rissa, and I could easily slip away before either of them real—
“Willow…?” comes Thane's gentle, confused voice, snapping me around like a deer caught in the headlights, hiding my sack behind my back.
Thane’s tall frame fills the doorway, his dark brows drawn together, expression unreadable except for maybe a hint of confusion.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice low—too calm, like he already knows the answer but wants to hear it come from me.
My throat closes up. I hate that I know him so well, even after all this time. A small thing like his tone shouldn't affect me, but it does.
“I was—” I gulp on the lie when his gaze drops to the sack half-hidden behind me. I clutch it tighter, but it’s useless. He sees everything. He always has.
“You were going to run,” he observes, hardly surprised. His tone is quieter and not angry.
Worse.
He's disappointed.
“I can’t stay here,” I whisper, my pulse pounding hard enough that I feel it in my ears as I drop my gaze. “You and Rissa…you’re both wrong about me. I’m not who you think I am, and I can’t…I can’t go through with this.”
Thane takes a step forward, and the air becomes denser, warmer, startling me into lifting my eyes again.
The Thane I remember—the one who could command a room with a single breath—is suddenly standing right in front of me. But there’s something else in his eyes this time.
Regret.
Confusion.
Maybe even a flicker of pain.
Why do I care, anyway?
“I’m not letting you leave,” he whispers, his voice low, a rumbling growl following that sends a shiver down my spine. “Not when you’re in danger. You don’t have to believe the prophecy, but you will believe me when I tell you that Blood Claw isn’t done with you yet.”
I shake my head vigorously, taking a step back, but he closes the space easily, even without moving. It's his presence. I can't escape it.
“Stop treating me like I’m something you can own,” I snap out of nowhere, feeling caged again. “You bought my freedom, Thane. That doesn’t make me yours to do with as you please.”
Something flashes in his eyes at that—hurt, maybe—but before I can move, his hand shoots out to catch my wrist.
My breath stops.
My world stops.
A jolt surges up my arm, electric, warm, and full of life. The kind of life I haven't felt for ages, years, even. It races through my veins like wildfire, climbing up my throat until my breath catches. My fingers twitch where he grips my wrist, and I feel it in him, too—his body stiffens, his pupils flare, and the air between us crackles like we've just been hit with imaginary lightning.
I stare at him, stunned, speechless. Neither of us speaks, but I can hear him breathing, hear the quickness of his heartbeat as it pulses in his chest, matching the beat of my own.
“Willow…” he breathes, his voice hoarse now, vulnerable, fragile, and cautious. “You feel that, don't you?”
I yank my hand back as if I'd been burned, refusing to believe what it means to feel these strange feelings, clutching my hand to my chest and glaring at him with accusation burning in my eyes. “N-no!” I snap, though the lie shakes in my voice when it quivers. “I-I didn’t.”
Thane's gaze softens, that damnable green darkening with realization. “You did.”
“Even if I did,” I grate out through gritted teeth, forcing strength into the words that my body doesn’t feel, “it doesn’tmean anything. You can’t just show up after five years and expect me to—”
