Chapter 19

Ava's POV

Thorne.

The body lotion slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud. I just stood there, staring. My chest tightened, and my breath caught in my throat. Something moved through me, something strange and overwhelming. Relief? Joy? Happiness?

Why?

Why on earth was I happy to see him? Was this...was this what the bond felt like?

My heart thudded so loudly it felt like it would crack my ribs. My hands trembled by my sides.

“What…what are you…doing here?” I asked, my voice shaky, barely more than a whisper. I stood up slowly, my knees wobbling like they might give out.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned toward the door. Panic flared in my chest. Was he leaving because i talked? Without thinking, I reached out my left hand, fingers stretched toward him, like I could somehow stop him with that tiny gesture. I didn’t even speak. I couldn’t. My throat was too tight.

Then he did something I didn’t expect at all. He walked to the door, locked it…and then turned back to me.

My breath hitched. He walked toward me—fast—and before I could move or speak or even think, his arms were around me. He hugged me.

I froze. My eyes went wide, my body stiffening like I'd been shocked. My arms hung limp at my sides. I didn’t know what to do with them. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I had never…never felt this kind of warmth before. Not in this place. And that scared me more than anything.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I just stood there, swallowed by the comfort of him. My body didn’t know how to respond. It had never been held like this. It had never been…cared for.

And gods, it felt so good.

So dangerously good.

My heart raced like it wanted to escape. My throat burned. There was a lump there, one I couldn’t swallow. Tears built behind my eyes. I blinked hard, again and again, willing them to go away.

I couldn’t cry. Not now. Not in front of him. If I cried, he’d see me. Really see me. And I didn’t know what he’d do with that. What anyone would.

Because if he saw the real me, he’d see the cracks. The bruises. The broken pieces I’ve hidden under silence and smiles and obedience.

But oh, gods, I wanted to cry.

I wanted to fall apart in his arms. I wanted to scream into his chest and tell him everything—everything that had been done to me. Everything I had survived.

But I didn’t. I just stood there, my arms still limp at my sides, my body trembling. Because even now, a part of me didn’t believe this was real. That he was real. That this warmth, this strange flutter in my chest, this ache in my ribs—it belonged to me.

I had spent so long surviving in silence that I didn’t know what to do with comfort. It felt foreign. Dangerous. Like I didn't deserve it. Like I'm doing something wrong. They weren’t for people like me.

Was this the bond? Was that why my heart no longer felt like mine? Why I ached in every place he wasn’t touching?

I closed my eyes for just a moment and let myself feel it. The steady beat of his heart against my cheek. The rise and fall of his chest. His scent surrounded me familiar in a way that didn’t make sense.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into my shoulder, his voice low. "I'm sorry." The words hit something deep inside me. And they scared me.

I pushed him back gently, my hands finally moving on their own. My fingers pressed against his chest, not hard, just enough to create space.

"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked, my voice shaking, but sharper now. “Do you think you can just walk into my room and hug me just because you realized we’re mates or something?”

The words hurt as they left my mouth. I didn’t mean them. Not really. But I had to say them. I had to. I wanted him and I hated that fact. But he can't be with me. We can't be together. The Alpha or Luna can't find out about us, no, not now, not anytime soon, never. They can't.

They can't!

The word echoed in my skull like a warning bell, louder than my heartbeat, louder than the voice that begged me to stay in his arms.

I stepped back, away from him, trying to put space between us, but gods, it hurt. Every inch I created felt like a piece of me was being torn away. My skin still burned where he had touched me. My body already missed the warmth.

His eyes searched mine, confusion tightening his brows. I didn’t let myself look too closely. If I did, I’d fall apart again. If I stared long enough, I’d forget everything else—the rules, the beatings, the threats, the reality. I’d forget that I was nothing but a slave in this house. And he was the Beta.

"Say something," I whispered. My voice came out more like a plea than I intended;weak and pathetic. I bit my lip hard until I tasted copper. I needed pain. Something to ground me. Something to make Ava come to her senses.

He took a slow step toward me. I stepped back again. My body screamed at me to stop, to run to him, to bury myself in the place I had just discovered. That place where it didn’t hurt to exist.

But I couldn’t.

“You can’t do this,” I said, my voice breaking, and I hated how soft it came out. “You can’t come here and make me feel safe. It’s not fair.”

His lips parted, like he wanted to speak, but I didn’t let him. “You don’t understand,” I went on, arms wrapping around myself. I was cold now. The second he let go, the chill returned, wrapping around my ribs like iron bands. “You don’t know what they’ll do to me if they find out you were here.”

I wasn’t even sure if I was trying to protect him or myself anymore. Maybe both.

“I can’t...survive that. Not again. Not more of their punishments. You think the Alpha will let you claim a human slave as your mate?” I laughed bitterly, the sound scraping my throat raw. “He’ll tear us both apart. He’ll make me watch. I don't want you hurt.”

I looked up at him finally, and it felt like drowning. His eyes were too soft. Too sad. Like he did understand. And that made it worse.

“You should go,” I whispered. “Before I do something stupid like beg you to stay.”

I turned away from him because I couldn’t bear to see the pain in his face. I didn’t want to hurt him. I just didn’t want to be hurt more. And gods, if I let him stay, if I let him close again, he would see every piece of me—and I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t shatter completely.

I waited for the sound of the door unlocking. For his footsteps retreating. But it didn’t come. He stayed. And my heart betrayed me with every beat, silently screaming for him not to leave.

Why wasn’t he leaving?

My back was still to him, my eyes fixed on the far wall, but I could feel him behind me. He wasn’t touching me, not anymore, but it still felt like he was wrapped around me. Still felt like his arms hadn’t let go.

“Did you hear me?” I said, my voice cracking. “I told you to go.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, nails digging into my arms until they ached. The longer he stayed, the harder it became to breathe.

Please, I wanted to say. Please don’t make me push you again. Please don’t make me choose between you and survival.

I had spent years surviving this hell, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of seeing him punished for something I wanted.

And gods, I wanted him. When had this feeling arise? When did I start feeling this way and I didn't know? We haven't even had a proper talk, not since he told me I was his mate.

So why now?

Was it because I’d never been loved? Never been held like that? Even now, with panic gnawing at my ribs and guilt clawing at my throat, my body still remembered the feel of him. The warmth. The safety. The steady beat of his heart against mine. My body screamed at me to turn to him and hug him.

And it's so fucking painful resisting it!

"I won't go." his voice came finally and my heart beats so loud with how thick his voice is.

I turned slowly, against my better judgment, and there he was—standing just a few feet away, his eyes never leaving mine. There was no anger in his face. Just something terrifyingly gentle.

“We can’t be doing this, Thorne,” I whispered. “We can’t. I don’t want to be selfish. You don’t understand what they’re capable of—what they’ve already done to me.”

His jaw tightened at that, his fists clenched at his sides, and for a second, I thought he might leave. That he might realize what a terrible mistake he made coming here.

But instead, he closed the distance. My heart was beating too fast. I couldn’t breathe. His hand reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek gently, like he was afraid to hurt me.

“You think I don’t know?” he said quietly. “You think I haven’t wanted to tear this place apart with my bare hands every damn time you came back looking like a ghost of yourself?" he paused, his brown eyes fixed on mine. "I wish I could make you forget everything. I wish I could make you safe. ”

The world seemed to stop, as if those words were some kind of incantation. And for the first time, I realized just how dangerously close we were, how badly I wanted to close the gap between us, to reach out and let him in.

I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to make me feel this way. But I did. I wanted him.

Gods, I wanted him so badly it hurt to breathe...