CHAPTER 111: FRACTURES IN THE MORNING LIGHT

Josie

I didn’t know when the tears finally stopped last night. One minute I was pacing the length of my room, replaying every cruel word and cold look, the next, exhaustion dragged me down into a restless sleep. My pillow was still damp when I woke.

I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling as the ache in my chest pulsed with every breath. I’d always thought love was supposed to be a safe place. A shield. A comfort. But the men I loved most had somehow become the sharpest blades aimed at me, cutting deeper with every encounter.

And the worst part? I had no idea how to make it stop.

When I finally pushed myself up, the house was quiet — the sort of unnatural silence that pressed down on you like a weight. I padded out into the hallway, half-expecting to hear the usual morning chatter from the kitchen, but there was nothing.

One of the maids, a petite woman with her hair tucked under a scarf, stood near the sitting room, dusting the shelves. She glanced up the second I appeared and blurted, "You should stay indoors today, Miss Josie."

I blinked, thrown off by her tone. "Indoors? Why? What’s going on?"

Her eyes darted away, and she busied herself with a vase that was already spotless. "It’s just... safer," she muttered, voice low, before disappearing into another room.

Frustration curled hot in my stomach. Safer from what?

With no answers coming from anyone, I decided to ignore the warning and head to the garden. Maybe the fresh air would stop my thoughts from spiraling.

Except... the moment I stepped outside, my mood soured even further.

Liam was stretched out across one of the sun loungers near the rosebushes, shirtless, his skin glistening in the sunlight as though he were posing for some ridiculous vanity painting. He had a glass of something iced in one hand and looked every bit too pleased with himself.

My patience snapped. "Liam, for Moon’s sake, put on a shirt! This isn’t some private beach."

He cracked one eye open and smirked. "Morning to you too, sunshine. Enjoying the view?"

My jaw tightened. "I’m enjoying nothing about this. Show some decency."

He took a slow sip from his glass, unbothered. "Decency is overrated. You should try loosening up — might make you less miserable."

"Less—" I cut myself off, fingers curling at my sides. "I’m not here to banter with you. Cover yourself."

Liam let out a low chuckle and propped himself up on one elbow. "If I were you, Josie, I wouldn’t be wasting my time worrying about my wardrobe choices. I’d be a little more concerned about your mate."

My heart skipped, dread clawing up my throat. "What about Thorne?"

"Oh," he drawled, the sarcasm dripping from every syllable, "nothing much. Just that he’s having himself a grand old morning over at the council office. You might want to go ’figure it out’ for yourself."

I stared at him, trying to read his face. "Are you lying to me?"

"Why would I lie?" He gave me a lazy grin. "Well... besides for my own amusement. But this time, darling, I’m telling the truth. Go have a look. Or don’t. But I’d hate for you to miss the... entertainment."

Something about the way he said entertainment made my stomach twist.

I turned to leave, but his voice followed me, mocking and sharp. "Better hurry, though. You wouldn’t want someone else to get the first word in. Or the first punch."

That was it. I couldn’t stand him another second.

I made for the front gates, calling out to the guards stationed nearby. "Take me to the council office. Now."

They exchanged a look, neither moving. One had the nerve to say, "We can’t, Miss Josie. Orders."

Fine. If they wouldn’t take me, I’d get there myself. I hiked my skirt slightly and started running down the path, the gravel crunching under my shoes. I’d barely made it halfway before a deep voice called from behind, "Hop in."

A black SUV idled at the side of the road. One of the guards I recognized from Thorne’s security detail sat behind the wheel, gesturing for me to get in. I didn’t hesitate.

The ride to the council building felt longer than it should have. My mind was a carousel of worst-case scenarios, each one uglier than the last.

When we pulled up, I didn’t wait for the guard to open my door. I stormed inside, pushing past startled faces.

The council chamber was tense. Conversations died mid-sentence as I crossed the threshold, the sound of my footsteps loud against the polished floor. And then I saw him.

Thorne.

He stood near the center of the room, his head slightly bowed, the set of his shoulders rigid. His hands — his fingers — were bruised and reddened, the skin raw as if he’d been striking something. Or someone.

Despite the mess between us, instinct propelled me forward. "Thorne—"

But before I could reach him, a strong arm shot out, stopping me short.

"Not now, Josie." Varen’s voice was firm, his expression unreadable.

I looked up at him, confusion and hurt tangling together. "Why? What’s going on? What happened to him?"

"You don’t need to be here," he said, already steering me toward the door.

"I think I do." My voice wavered, but I pushed through. "If this is about my mate, I have every right—"

Varen groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Thorne... he messed up. Bad."

My pulse thundered in my ears. "What does that mean? What did he do?"

He hesitated, and that hesitation told me everything I needed to know. My mind leapt straight to the one person who’d been circling like a vulture lately.

"Is this about Michelle?" My voice dropped, sharp as glass.

The flicker of guilt in his eyes was all the confirmation I needed.

I stepped back, my chest tightening. "What. Did. He. Do?"

Varen’s voice was low, but each word landed like a blow. "He let her get close. Too close."

Horror spread through me, cold and fast. I’d been bracing myself for betrayal, but hearing it aloud still felt like a punch to the gut.

I didn’t wait for Varen to stop me this time. I pushed back into the council room, my eyes locking on Thorne.

"Tell me you didn’t," I said, my voice shaking. "Tell me she’s lying. Tell me all of this is a mistake."

But he couldn’t even look at me.

He stood there, silent, his gaze fixed on some distant point on the floor.

And that silence was my answer.