Thorne | Mate In Play

Destiny. The word lodges itself in my chest like a blade. A fire stokes low in my gut, an instinct I’ve fought to suppress igniting.

Adriel snorts, his pale fingers tapping against the table.

“Destiny. What a delightful bedtime story. Perhaps the stars will tell us where to send the cleaning crews next?” His tone drips with derision, but there’s unease in his crimson eyes.

Eris’s voice slices through his mockery.

“Mock it all you want, Adriel, but Lyra’s warnings have never been wrong. Ignoring her would be foolish. Even for you.”

The quiet that follows her words is suffocating with implication. Lyra’s expression remains serene, but the tension in the room is palpable.

I lean forward, planting my hands on the table.

“Whatever this is, we’ll handle it. Before it spirals into chaos. Every faction will monitor their territories. Report anything unusual, no matter how small.”

Lyra’s gaze remains locked on mine, unreadable emotion passing through her golden eyes. I ignore it, my attention sweeping across the table to meet every council member’s gaze in turn.

“We don’t wait for destiny to knock on our door. We hunt it down first.”

There are murmurs of agreement around the table. But even the most composed members of the council shift uneasily in their seats. Whatever this “shift” is, it’s got claws sunk into all of us.

Just as I think we’re finally done, Cade’s speaks.

“Well, isn’t this… intriguing,” he drawls, tone dripping with mockery. His smirk is firmly in place, a dagger sharpened just for me. “All this talk of power and destiny. It almost sounds like…” He trails off deliberately, his gaze locking onto mine, challenge blazing in his dark blue eyes. “Like someone’s mate might be in play.”

My claws extend before I can stop them, the sharp tips scraping against the arms of my chair, scoring the polished wood. A growl rumbles in my chest, low and lethal, reverberating through the chamber.

Cade leans back in his seat, utterly unbothered, his smirk widening into something feral.

“Touchy, brother?”

The air crackles with my rage, the wolf inside me pacing dangerously close to the surface. I don’t respond. Can’t. Because no matter how much I want to rip that smirk off his face, he’s not wrong.

My mate is in play. And she was married to a human.

The thought is poison, corrosive and relentless, eating away at me.

The meeting disbands with an air of unease, Lyra’s warnings hanging in the space. The others file out one by one, their footsteps echoing in the dimly lit chamber. Cade is the last to leave, pausing just long enough to shoot me a smug glance before vanishing into the shadows.

I don’t move. My fists grip the armrests, claws digging into the grooves I’ve already carved. My mind is a battleground, a violent swirl of rage, jealousy, and the gnawing truth.

Maci.

Every thought circles back to her. She’s not just in play, she’s the goddamn board. And I’ll burn the whole game down before I let anyone else touch her again.

I shove back from my chair, the groan of the wood a sharp echo in the ancient chamber, and stalk toward the exit. The weight of the meeting, of Cade’s smirk, Lyra’s warning, it all clings to me. Each step I take reverberates in the silence, the magic of the Noctis Assembly pressing against my skin. A reminder of the divide between this realm and the human one.

I need to get out. Back to my car, back to my phone, back to anything that will pull me from in my head. Phones and electronics are useless here. Magic overrides it all; no texts, no calls, no surveillance. This place is sealed from the outside world. Locked. Impenetrable. It’s part of the protection. No prying human eyes, no way for the outside world to breach these walls.

Electronics aren’t needed, so it’s easier just to bar them altogether.

The cool night air hits me like a balm as I push through the archway. It’s late, early, depending on how you spin it, and the city has settled into a quiet stillness. The moon hangs high, bathing the parking lot in silver light. My car waits in the shadows, sleek and predatory, as if it’s been watching for me.

I slide into the driver’s seat, the familiar scent of leather and cedar. Grabbing my phone from the centre console to see if Logan has anything more for me, the screen lights up with notifications. Maci.

Her name on my phone screen is like a brand to my soul. My thumb hesitates, hovering over the message like it might burn me.

I open it.

A picture. My chest tightens as the image fills the screen. It’s her living room, dimly lit, cosy. Curled in her lap is a small, fluffy cat, its wide eyes comically ridiculous and almost smug. A faint grin tugs at my lips before I even realise it. The caption reads:

‘Found a stray tonight. Thinking of calling him Trouble. Fitting, right?’

Trouble. The irony is razor sharp.

There’s another message below it.

‘Thanks for today, Mr Wintermere. The messages are creeping me out. I feel better that someone else knows.’

Her words settle somewhere deep, too deep. It’s just a cat. Just a stupid, innocent cat. But that she’s sharing it with me, trusting me, it’s like a punch to the ribs. My thumb moves before I can stop it, and I type back:

‘He suits you.’

I hit send; the message flying into the void, and toss the phone onto the passenger seat like it’s poisoned. My hands grip the steering wheel, white-knuckled, as I try to steady myself. But the truth won’t fucking settle.

She’s in my head. My chest. My goddamn blood.

The engine growls to life, echoing in the empty lot and I’m on autopilot, the city blurring past in a haze of streetlights. But instead of heading home, my hands betray me, steering toward her building.

It’s reckless. It’s insane. It’s so fucking stupid. And I don’t stop.

When I finally pull up outside her place, the dashboard clock blinks 3:07 a.m.. The building is still, dark save for a few scattered windows glowing faintly. Hers isn’t one of them.

I sit there, engine idling, my eyes locked on the door. My senses stretch, straining for any sign of danger, anything to justify why the hell I’m here. There’s nothing. Just the faint hum of the city, the soft shuffle of leaves in the breeze.

I tell myself it’s to make sure she’s okay. That she’s safe. But I know better. It’s not just tonight. It’s every night from now on.

I can’t let her go. Not tonight. Not ever.