Josie
To my complete surprise, Varen didn’t look the least bit annoyed by Marcy’s sudden, overdramatic entrance. In fact, he was... smiling?
Not a tight, forced smile, but an easy, honest one—as if he didn’t mind that the mont had been shattered. As if nothing could really rattle him.
I blinked at him, and sothing strange stirred in my chest—calm. Not just because of the mate bond humming between us, but because of him. The kind of man he was. Gentle. Steady. Unshaken.
"I’d love to go," I blurted out before I could lose my nerve.
His eyes lit up, and the grin that broke across his face was nothing short of breathtaking. "Perfect," he said simply, his voice wrapping around like sunlight. "I’ll pick you up tomorrow."
Then, with one last glance, he turned and walked away.
"OH. MY. ACTUAL. GOD," Marcy shrieked, the mont he was out of earshot. "What the hell just happened?!"
I flinched. "Marcy—"
"Did I just interrupt a proposal?! Or wait—was that so secret garden fairy tale date request? You’re going to a mask party with him?!"
"It’s not that deep—"
"Josie," she gasped, grabbing my arm. "You’re officially living in one of those spicy, slow-burn romance novels. Where was this energy when you were stuck in the nightmare house with your parents?"
I rolled my eyes, cheeks already burning. "It’s not so big romance story, okay? He just asked out."
"And you said yes! Do you know how huge that is? This is next-level Josie lore, babe!"
I tried to play it down—I really did—but Marcy wasn’t having it. She was like a caffeine-fueled hurricane, circling with questions and theories and wild grins.
It felt strange watching her so giddy. For days, she’d been acting awkward around , distant even. But now? Now she was practically vibrating.
Her excitent felt warm, but... sothing about it stung too. Like she’d just decided to move on from the uncomfortable parts—the parts where I almost died. The parts I didn’t even know how to say out loud.
So I skipped them. I left out the attack. I left out the pain. I just told her enough to satisfy her curiosity without dragging her into the darkness I hadn’t even begun to understand myself.
But the way she kept clapping and squealing made feel exposed. Like I was being painted in colors I didn’t recognize.
"And you said yes, just like that!" Marcy said for the third ti, clasping her hands dramatically. "You’re so brave! I would’ve passed out. Maybe even thrown up. How are you so composed?"
"I’m really not—"
"You are!" she insisted, spinning in a circle like we were in the middle of a makeover montage. "I’m so happy for you, Josie—"
"Miss Renner," a clipped, authoritative voice interrupted.
I turned to see Thorne standing ten feet away with six bodyguards at his back, all dressed in dark uniforms like they’d co straight from a war zone. His eyes were locked on Marcy, and they were not friendly.
Marcy froze mid-spin. "Oh."
"You need to leave," Thorne said flatly.
My heart slamd against my ribs. "Excuse ?"
"She shouldn’t be here. Not without clearance."
"She’s my best friend!" I snapped. "And I’m allowed to have visitors."
Thorne’s gaze moved to , and for a mont, I forgot how to breathe.
His green eyes were so intense—like storms had taken root in them. His jaw was tight. His body rigid. Every part of him scread danger.
"It’s fine, Josie," Marcy said quietly, stepping back. "Really. I should get going anyway."
I looked at her, trying to hide the sting in my eyes. "You don’t have to—"
"I’ll call you, okay?" she said quickly, already retreating. "We’ll go dress shopping later. Promise."
And then she was gone.
Just like that.
The mont she disappeared, the silence between and Thorne turned suffocating.
My fists clenched at my sides. "You didn’t have to scare her off."
"You were walking around without guards," he growled, closing the distance between us in three long strides.
I folded my arms. "Oh no, how terrible. I survived."
"This isn’t a joke, Josie." His hand shot out, gripping my chin—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make my breath catch. His face was just inches from mine now. "If you die, I’ll be fucking mateless."
The words hit like a slap.
I stared at him, chest rising and falling too fast. "Oh, how awful that must be for you. Well, I’m sure Michelle would love to substitute ."
His growl was low and guttural, and then he leaned in, so close his breath brushed over my lips.
"Do you love to drive insane for sport?" he murmured, voice thick with tension. His eyes dropped to my mouth, and I felt my entire body flush.
I ant to say sothing sharp. Sothing defiant.
But all I managed was a whisper: "Maybe."
It hung between us like heat, unbearable and magnetic.
His grip tightened for a second—and then he let go.
The air rushed back into my lungs like I’d been underwater.
I turned away too quickly, needing space. Needing sanity. My hand reached for a nearby plant, sothing green and harmless just by the stone wall, and the second my fingers brushed its stem—
It withered.
I froze. The color drained from its leaves, curling into ash before it crumbled beneath my touch.
Panic surged up my spine.
I moved in front of it, heart pounding, praying he hadn’t noticed.
He hadn’t. Thank god. His eyes were still on .
"Go," he ordered, voice sharp again. "Now."
I didn’t wait. I bolted.
I didn’t stop until I reached my room, breath shaky, pulse wild.
And then I saw it—laid out on my bed like a promise from another world.
A dress.
Rich chocolate brown silk, flowing and elegant. A white mask resting gently on top, shaped like soft wings and pearled at the edges.
I touched it with trembling fingers, warmth blooming in my chest.
For a mont, the panic, the fear, the helplessness, the thing that had just happened—they all faded.
For a mont, I felt... wanted.
Even if I wasn’t sure who I was anymore.
Even if the garden still rembered how I made it die.
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