I slip away from Thorne and join her near the kitchen counter where she’s helping set out bowls of stew. The rich smell of beef and vegetables makes my stomach growl, but my appetite feels distant.
Daisy bumps my shoulder gently. “You okay? You look a million miles away.”
I glance around to make sure no one is listening, then lean closer. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
She nods and pulls me into the small pantry off the kitchen, closing the door partway. “What’s going on?”
I take a breath, the words tumbling out quieter than I intend. “I think I’m falling for Thorne. Really falling. These last few days have been the happiest I can remember. But what happens when this is all over? When Magnus is gone and I don’t need to hide here anymore? Will he still want me? Or am I just another woman he rescues and then moves on from? Does he do this with everyone who shows up scared?”
Daisy listens, her expression softening. She reaches out and squeezes my arm. “Thorne is not like that, Sadie. He’s solid. Protective. I have seen the way he looks at you. It’s different.”
I shake my head. “What if I’m just convenient right now? Safe and close and grateful. Once the danger passes, maybe he’ll realize I was never supposed to stay.”
She bites her lip, thinking. “I could ask Eli. He’s known Thorne longer than I have. He might be able to give you some real perspective.”
“No,” I say quickly, panic rising. “Please don’t. I don’t want anyone else knowing how I feel. Especially not Eli. It would get back to Thorne and I can’t handle that conversation yet.”
Daisy studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Okay. I won’t say anything. But I think you should talk to him yourself. Thorne doesn’t strike me as the type to play games with someone’s heart.”
I manage a small smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Maybe later. Right now I just need to get through dinner without falling apart.”
We slip back out to the main room. Thorne’s gaze finds me immediately from across the table. His eyes are watchful, concerned. I look away and focus on filling my bowl, keeping mymovements careful and distant. The stew is hearty and warm, the bread fresh, but everything tastes muted. Conversation flows around me. Laughter rises when Boyd tells a story about a fence repair gone wrong. I smile when expected, nod along, but my thoughts keep circling back to the same fears.
Thorne sits beside me, close enough that his thigh brushes mine under the table. Every point of contact sends a spark through me, but I keep my posture stiff. He tries to draw me into the talk a few times, asking simple questions about the food or the weather. I answer with short words, avoiding his eyes. The tension builds between us, quiet but heavy.
Dinner ends and people start clearing bowls. Thorne stands and offers me his hand. “Ready to head back?”
I nod and take it, but I let go as soon as we step outside. The walk back to the cabin feels longer than usual. The moon lights the path, silver on the snow-dusted ground. Thorne stays close, his presence solid and warm, but I keep a small distance between us. My heart pounds with every step. I hate this distance I’m creating, but the doubts refuse to quiet.
At the cabin door he unlocks it and holds it open for me. The familiar space greets us, fire already banked low from earlier. He closes the door behind us and turns, reaching for me. His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing my skin as he leans in to kiss me.
I pull away at the last second, stepping back so his lips miss mine. Hurt flashes across his face, quickly masked, but I see it. My chest tightens.
“Sadie?” His voice is low, careful. “What is going on? You’ve been quiet all evening. Distant.”
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the cabin. “I just… need some space tonight.”
He studies me, eyes searching. The man who has held me so tenderly these past days now stands a few feet away, giving me the room I asked for even though it clearly costs him. Part of me wants to close the distance, to bury myself in his arms and forget the worries. But the questions keep spinning. What happens when the danger ends? When I’m no longer the woman who needs saving? Will he still look at me like I’m his?
I turn toward the bedroom before the tears can start. “I think I’ll go to bed early.”
Thorne doesn’t stop me, but I feel his gaze on my back the whole way down the hall. The door clicks shut behind me and I sit on the edge of the bed, heart aching with everything I can’t bring myself to say yet.
The happiness of the last few days feels fragile now, balanced on the edge of uncertainty. I curl up under the quilt, still wearing my clothes, and close my eyes. Thorne’s footsteps move quietly in the main room. He doesn’t come to bed right away. The space between us stretches wider even though we’re under the same roof.
I lie there in the dark, wondering how something that felt so perfect could suddenly feel so uncertain. Falling for Thorne happened fast and deep, but the fear of losing him might be even stronger. And what about Lily? Can I rescue her and bring her here? For now I stay quiet, hoping the morning brings clarity instead of more distance.
ELEVEN
THORNE
The cabin stays quiet after Sadie closes the bedroom door. I sit on the couch for a long time, staring at the low fire, letting the evening replay in my head. She pulled away when I tried to kiss her. Kept her distance all through dinner. Something’s bothering her, something heavy enough to dim the light that has been in her eyes these last few days. I know better than to push. She has been through enough with Magnus and the fear that followed her here. If she needs time and space, I’ll give it to her. Even if it twists something tight in my chest.
I bank the fire, check the locks one last time, and head down the hall. The bedroom door stands slightly open. Sadie lies curled under the quilt, facing away from me. I don’t climb into bed beside her. Instead I pull the old armchair from the corner closer to the side of the bed and settle into it. The chair creaks under my weight. It’s not comfortable, but comfort is not the point tonight. I want her to feel safe. I want her to know I’m right here if she needs me, without crowding the space she asked for.
Sleep comes slow and restless. The house settles around us with small sounds. Wind in the pines. The occasional pop from thecooling logs in the hearth. I keep one eye on Sadie, watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing in the moonlight that slips through the curtains.
Sometime deep in the night her voice breaks the silence, soft and hesitant. “Thorne? Are you comfortable?”
