The Paradox Of Craving What Destroys You

Thorne

She was awake.

I watched her from across the room, the way she refused to meet my eyes like my stare might burn through her skin. Maybe it would.

I cleared my throat. “You’re quiet.”

No response.

The heart monitor beeped steadily. Too steadily. Like it was mocking me for caring whether it kept beating or not.

I moved closer, slow, careful, like I was approaching a wounded predator. “Say something.”

Her eyes shifted, finally, locking onto mine and they weren’t just angry. They were empty.

Like I didn’t exist anymore. Like she’d already buried me somewhere in her mind and was just waiting for the body to follow.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

I pulled a chair beside her bed and sat. “But I am.”

“You ruined everything.”

I leaned in, my voice a growl. “I know. You think I sleep? You think I don’t see your face every night, wondering how the hell I became this… monster?”

She flinched. Not at my words. At the way I said monster like it wasn’t news.

“I didn’t come here to explain,” I continued. “I came because when I thought you were gone, something inside me cracked for you. And it hasn’t stopped bleeding since.”

Elena turned away, staring at the wall. “That’s not whatever you think it is. That’s because your child is growing in me.”

“I never said I loved you.”

Her breath hitched.

“But I would burn this entire world down if you stopped breathing again.”

That made her look at me. Not with softness. But with confusion. Pain. A storm she couldn’t name.

“You want me to carry your child,” she said, her voice shaking. “You want me to survive for your child. What the hell is going on in your mind? I won't be the mother of a monster's offspring.”

I didn’t answer. Rather, I moved closer to her.

She didn't push me away when I leaned in.

Not immediately.

That was all the permission I needed.

I moved slower this time, watching the way her breath hitched when I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary.

"You're still here," I murmured, lips so close to her cheek I felt her skin tremble.

Elena’s jaw clenched, her eyes darting away. “I’m here because I have no choice.”

"You always have a choice," I said. “But for some reason, you’re still breathing the same air as the man you claim to hate.”

“Hate,” she repeated bitterly. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

I leaned back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Then what’s this?” I traced her wrist with a featherlight touch, feeling her pulse jump beneath my fingers. “Why does your body betray you every time I’m close?”

She sucked in a breath like I’d just struck her. Her chest heaved with the effort to hold herself together.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not playing,” I said, voice dipping low. “I’m warning you.”

Her gaze snapped to mine. “Warning me of what?”

“That one more second of you looking at me like that and I’ll forget why I’m trying to keep my distance.” I smiled darkly. “You think I care about what’s right, Elena? I kill men for breathing too loud, what makes you think I’ll stop myself from taking what I want?”

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

I saw the war in her eyes, rage and attraction, pain and something dangerously close to surrender.

“You hate me?” I asked softly. “Fine. Hate me. But don’t lie to yourself and pretend you don’t want me to touch you right now.”

She slapped my hand away, breath ragged. “I want you gone.”

I smirked. “You want me gone the same way fire wants the wind.”

Her hands curled into fists. “You’re sick.”

I tilted my head. “And you’re burning, sweetheart.”

She turned away, but not before I saw it, the flush creeping down her neck, the way her lips pressed together too hard, like she was punishing herself for letting me get this close.

“I’m not Luna,” she said suddenly, low and raw. “I won’t fall for your grievous touch.”

I stepped back slowly, a dangerous calm settling into my posture. “Good.”

Then I leaned close again, whispering just above her lips:

“Because I don’t want you to fall... I want you to shatter.”

Then she turned back to face me, her eyes swimming in tears that refused to fall. Her voice cracked.

"You think I’ll go through the pain of nine months just to give you a son? You think I’d ever truly agree to give you what you want? I thought you were wise, Thorne. I thought you were—"

I didn’t let her finish.

I surged forward like instinct had snapped inside me, closing the space between us in a single breath.

My hand cupped the side of her face, fingers threading into her hair, and I kissed her sweet and hard like a man possessed.

My mouth claimed hers in a way that wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t cruel either.

It was hungry, a clash of anger and longing, of things unsaid and feelings buried too deep.

Her lips parted beneath mine, not out of surrender, but shock, and I kissed her deeper, slow, deliberate, like I was trying to taste the parts of her she never let anyone touch.

She froze for a heartbeat. Then her hands came up to press against my chest but she didn’t push.

She just trembled.

And I pulled her closer.

The kiss burned, her breath caught, her mouth answered mine before her mind could fight.

When I finally pulled back, barely an inch away, my voice dropped to a whisper against her lips.

“You thought I was wise?” I smiled darkly. “You’re the fool for thinking I ever wanted your permission.”

“Why don’t you try and kill that child,” I said, my voice dipped in a calm threat, a smirk curling on my lips, “and let’s see if it’s you I wanted… or the child.”

Her face twisted, rage, confusion, disbelief. Like she was trying to figure out if I was human.

I stepped closer again, slow and deliberate, watching every flinch, every breath she took. Then I asked her again, softer this time, voice sinking like honey and venom.

“Try me.”

And before she could blink, I caught her lower lip between mine again, this time coaxing her tongue out for a meeting so slow, so deep.

She gasped, but it wasn’t from resistance.

Her hand, I saw it started to lift, fingers reaching for my cheek like she didn’t even realize it. The walls were crumbling. For a second, she wanted to touch me.

And then—

CRASH.

The door burst open, and Scott staggered in, eyes wild.

Rage ignited in my chest like gasoline to flame.

My jaw clenched so tight I tasted blood. I turned slowly, murder in my stare, my voice lethal.

“You better say someone died, Scott. Otherwise, you just gave up your right to live.”