Josie
I didn’t slam the door when I got to my room.
I wanted to. Every muscle in itched to throw sothing, scream, rip the curtains off the wall—anything that might feel like release.
But I didn’t. Because that would an I’d lost control, and I was so damn tired of feeling like I had no grip on my life.
Instead, I quietly closed the door, crossed the room, and collapsed face-first onto my bed. The sheets were cool against my skin, slling faintly of old lavender detergent and sothing sharp—maybe my own sweat. Maybe panic. I didn’t know anymore.
My chest felt too tight to breathe properly. I curled my fingers into the duvet, pressing my face into the pillow so no one would hear scream if it slipped out.
I didn’t cry.
I wanted to. But I didn’t. Because if I started, I wasn’t sure I’d stop. And that wasn’t a risk I could take tonight.
Today had been too much. Too raw. Too terrifying. That mont in the woods still clung to like a second skin—those n, their claws, the way the forest swallowed their footsteps until they were on . And then Kiel—his voice, his power, the way he shielded like he didn’t think twice.
And I hadn’t even said thank you. Not properly. Not like I should have.
I sighed against the pillow, the sound muffled but heavy.
My phone buzzed sowhere near my head.
I turned it over and glanced at the screen. One na.
Marcy.
Of course.
My finger hovered over the decline button. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Least of all to soone who had barely looked at since the whole "mated to three alphas" revelation.
But I answered anyway.
"Josie!" ca the high-pitched chirp on the other end.
Gods, that voice grated like nails on glass.
I blinked at the ceiling. "Hi, Marcy."
There was a pause. "That’s it? Hi? No ’hello bestie,’ no sarcasm? What’s up with you?"
I rolled onto my side, staring at the window. "I’m tired."
"You’ve been tired for weeks."
I didn’t respond. Because she was right.
She kept going. "Look, I know I’ve been acting weird since... well, you know."
"Yeah, I noticed."
There was a soft sigh. "I just... I don’t know how to be around you anymore. You’re mated to three Alphas, Josie. That’s not exactly casual gossip."
I scoffed. "So that makes radioactive now?"
"No! No, it’s not like that."
"It feels like that."
She went quiet, and for a second, I thought she’d hung up. But then, softly:
"I’m sorry. I really am. Even after our talk at the market, I still don’t know how to act. Everything’s different."
I sat up slowly, resting my head back against the headboard. "Then just act normal. If you still care about at all, just... be normal."
Her voice cracked a little. "I do care about you."
"Then show it. Don’t tiptoe around like I’ve grown fangs."
She mumbled sothing that might’ve been another apology.
"So," she said after a beat, trying for a lighter tone. "What’s it like being the center of attention for three terrifyingly hot Alphas?"
I snorted. "Exhausting."
"I an, most girls would kill for your problem."
"Most girls don’t have to dodge murder attempts and break up literal growl-fests between jealous werewolves."
She laughed. "Okay, fair. But seriously, are you okay?"
I hesitated.
I wanted to lie. To toss out so dry joke, sothing to dodge the pit clawing its way up my throat. But Marcy had been my friend since we were kids. She knew too well.
So I tried the joke anyway.
"Don’t worry," I said. "I’m only 90% traumatized. The other 10% is just confusion."
"Josie," she said gently. "Talk to . What’s really wrong?"
And that’s when it cracked.
Not all at once. Just a tremor in my voice. A wobble in my breath. I pressed a hand to my chest like I could keep it together by force alone.
"I don’t know what I’m doing," I whispered. "I don’t know who I’m supposed to be."
"Hey," she said quickly. "It’s okay—just breathe—"
"No, it’s not okay," I snapped, voice breaking. "I don’t understand why this is happening to . I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be so stupid Luna or mate or—whatever they want to be."
"Josie..."
"They’re strong and scary and always fighting, and I don’t know if I’m supposed to love them or run from them. I’m scared, Marcy. I’m scared all the ti, and I don’t know if they even see as a person or just so prophecy fulfillnt—so prize."
I clamped a hand over my mouth as the first sob slipped out.
"I didn’t want any of this," I whispered. "I just wanted a quiet life. To belong sowhere."
There was silence on the line.
Then, quietly, "You still have . You’ll always have ."
I opened my mouth to say thank you—maybe sothing more—when a sharp knock at the door made jump.
"Soone’s here," I said quickly. "I have to go."
"Wait—Josie—"
"I’ll call you later."
I ended the call and slipped off the bed, padding barefoot across the room. My heart was still racing, breath uneven. I scrubbed at my face, wiping away whatever tear tracks might’ve betrayed .
I opened the door.
Thorne stood there, tall and imposing, arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable. His cold grey eyes swept past , not at , like I was sothing barely worth noticing.
My stomach dropped. I suddenly rembered exactly how I’d yelled at him. The things I’d said.
He didn’t look angry. That was the worst part.
"Let in," he said.
I stepped aside.
He walked in without hesitation, stopping in the center of the room like he owned it. I closed the door and turned slowly, arms folding over my chest in defense.
He didn’t look at . Not really. His gaze stayed on the wall behind . The desk. The ceiling. Anything but my eyes.
I frowned. "Is there sothing wrong?"
"I’m here to give you ground rules," he said flatly.
I blinked. "Rules?"
"Yes."
I scoffed. "Kiel literally saved my life tonight. And you’re acting like he put in danger."
Thorne stepped forward, slow and deliberate. His eyes flicked to mine for one fleeting mont—and in that instant, I saw a storm barely contained.
"Don’t talk," he said.
Just that.
Two words.
And I fell silent.
Not out of fear.
But because sothing in his voice told this wasn’t about control or cruelty.
It was about sothing deeper.
Sothing broken.
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