“She’ll burn to bone!” Kael adds.
But I know. I know with a certainty that isn’t rational but sits deep in my bones—Thorne would never hurt me.
So I press my palm to the scorched center of his flaming chest.
The heat sears around me, but not through me.
His flame cradles instead of consumes.
“I’m fine,” I whisper. “I’m okay. And you cannot just torch your brothers, alright? That’s not cool.”
Silence.
Then a strange noise.
A grunt.
Like a choked laugh filtered through stone and ash.
The fire dims.
The skeletal bulk shrinks.
Bone melts into muscle.
Obsidian turns to skin.
And then he’s just Thorne again—kneeling, panting, sweat beading his brow, steam rising from his bare shoulders, his eyes two burning coals of regret.
“Mine,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to my still-damp belly.
“It’s okay,” I say, stroking his hair with trembling fingers.
“You weren’t in our tent,” he breathes, voice hoarse.
“I was just hanging out.”
“Hanging out?”
I smile weakly. “Yeah. This place is weird. I was alone. Alaric and Kael kept me company. Answered questions while I waited for you.”
“I did not like returning to find you gone.”
“Noted,” I say gently, cupping his cheek. “But next time?”
“Yes, Shula?”
“Ask me before going nuclear, okay?”
He groans into my stomach. “No promises.”
And damn me, but I believe him.
And I think I like him all the more for it.
Chapter 16
Thorne
