CHAPTER 4

Thorne didn’t wait.

The moment Varun took a step forward, he grabbed my hand and yanked me into a sprint.

We tore through the shattered cabin door and into the dark forest beyond, branches whipping past, the cold air burning my lungs.

Behind us, I heard a roar — then the heavy thud of pursuit.

“They’re faster,” I gasped, stumbling as roots caught at my feet.

“I’m faster,” Thorne snarled. His arm tightened around me, hauling me against his body.

Before I could protest, he scooped me up like I weighed nothing, throwing me over his shoulder.

"Hold on," he barked.

I clung to him as he shot through the trees, moving with an impossible speed that made my stomach lurch and my heart hammer against my ribs.

Magic sparked around him — wild, unstable, powerful.

The enforcers were gaining.

I could hear the crash of their heavy paws, the sharp barks of orders, the metallic ring of weapons drawn.

"They're not going to stop," I panted against him.

"They can't have you," Thorne growled, voice thick with rage.

A sharp pain lanced through my side — a throwing dagger slicing the air where my head had been moments before.

Thorne ducked and pivoted mid-sprint, snarling.

He skidded to a stop in a small clearing surrounded by towering trees.

He set me down roughly, spinning to face the darkness.

The air thrummed with danger.

"You have to trust me," he said, voice low and rough, golden eyes burning.

"I do," I whispered without thinking.

Because gods help me — I did.

His mouth crashed onto mine again — fierce, desperate, stealing the breath from my lungs.

There was no time for tenderness.

No time for doubts.

His hands were frantic, fumbling with my clothes, ripping my shirt over my head with a growl of frustration.

I gasped as the cold air hit my bare skin — but then he was there, everywhere, covering me, worshiping me with rough hands and hotter kisses.

"You drive me insane," he snarled against my skin, teeth grazing my collarbone. "I should be running, fighting— but all I can think about is you."

His mouth trailed lower, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses down my chest, my stomach.

Everywhere he touched, he branded me.

His hands slid beneath the waistband of my jeans, yanking them down in one rough motion.

I kicked them off blindly, needing him — needing him — more than my next breath.

He lowered me to the forest floor, his body covering mine, shielding me from the night.

I arched into him, desperate for friction, for connection.

He groaned low in his throat — a sound so dark and filthy it sent a jolt of heat straight through me.

"Mine," he growled against my throat. "No one else's."

He pressed his body flush against mine — and gods, the feel of him — hot, hard, massive — made me cry out.

He rocked against me, slow and grinding, driving me insane with the agonizing friction.

"Say it," he ordered roughly. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," I gasped, nails digging into his back.

He bit down lightly on my shoulder, a warning, a promise.

And then there was no more space between us.

He pushed into me in one deep, slow thrust, stealing the air from my lungs.

I cried out — partly in pain, mostly in pure, raw need.

Thorne cursed savagely against my throat, his body trembling with restraint.

He didn't move.

Just held me there — filled, claimed, marked.

"You're perfect," he rasped. "Made for me."

Tears blurred my vision — not from the sting, but from the overwhelming wave of emotion crashing over me.

Thorne moved then — slow at first, almost reverent.

Each thrust was deliberate, claiming, driving me deeper into the mossy earth.

I wrapped my legs around him, meeting him thrust for thrust, desperate for more, for everything.

The sounds he made — low, guttural groans, barely human — drove me insane.

The heat between us built, fierce and unstoppable.

It was too much.

It was not enough.

Thorne growled deep in his chest, picking up the pace, thrusting harder, deeper.

My back arched off the ground, a scream tearing from my throat.

I was close — gods, I was so close — but he wasn't slowing down.

He drove me higher, faster, until I shattered apart beneath him, stars exploding behind my eyes.

Thorne roared my name as he followed, slamming into me one final time, burying himself deep.

For a long, breathless moment, neither of us moved.

We just lay there — tangled, panting, trembling.

The forest around us was deadly silent.

Until—

A low snarl echoed through the trees.

Thorne stiffened against me, lifting his head.

"Stay down," he whispered, deadly serious.

I barely had time to catch my breath before he was on his feet — naked, blood-streaked, beautiful — facing the shadows creeping closer.

Varun emerged from the darkness, flanked by his wolves.

His lips curled into a cruel smile as his gaze dropped to me — still sprawled on the ground, still aching from Thorne’s touch.

"Touching," Varun drawled. "Truly. But unfortunately, she's promised to another."

Thorne's entire body vibrated with rage.

"Over my dead body," he growled.

"Gladly," Varun said — and lunged.

Thorne met him midair with a roar, their bodies crashing together in a clash of muscle and magic.

The wolves closed in — teeth bared, eyes gleaming.

I struggled to my feet, heart racing, vision swimming.

I had no weapon.

No magic.

Nothing.

But I couldn't just stand there.

I had to help him.

Even if it killed me.

As Thorne and Varun fought with brutal intensity, the ground beneath us shook. Every blow they traded made the trees tremble.

Thorne was faster, but Varun was stronger. The two of them collided again and again, their muscles straining, their growls echoing through the forest.

One of Varun's wolves charged toward me, its fangs bared, eyes glowing a violent red.

I barely dodged as it snapped at my face.

Before I could even react, I felt something sharp in my wrist — a dagger that had embedded itself deep, the blood pouring out in hot rivulets.

The pain blurred my vision, but I couldn't stop. I stumbled forward, grabbing a broken branch from the ground, trying to fend off the wolf.

But it was no use.

Just as the wolf lunged toward me, I felt a powerful force slam into it from behind.

Thorne.

His fist collided with the wolf's skull, knocking it out cold.

He turned to me, his amber eyes flashing, chest heaving, blood splattered across his body.

"Stay behind me," he ordered, voice low and dangerous.

I nodded, barely able to catch my breath.

The fight raged on, and in the chaos, my heart pounded harder, deeper — more than just the adrenaline.

This was the beginning.

And I was falling deeper into Thorne’s world.