CHAPTER 197: THE QUIET BEFORE THE STORM

Thorne

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since the chaos, since I’d heard Josie’s broken voice calling my name through the dark haze I’d thought would swallow me whole. And yet, the quiet that followed felt heavier than the war itself. The kind of silence that didn’t soothe—it suffocated.

The breeze brushed against my skin as I bent to pick up another handful of daffodils from the garden. Their yellow petals were soft and fragile, a painful contrast to the blood and fire that had once stained this same ground.

The memory of that day flickered in my mind—the screams, the fear, the sight of Varen half-crazed, clutching Josie like he could anchor her back to life. And me... lying somewhere between this world and the next, torn apart by pain I couldn’t even describe.

Now everything looked peaceful, almost idyllic. The flowers had grown back thicker, more vibrant—as if Josie’s power had bled into the earth. She always had that effect. She could bring beauty to ruin, warmth to coldness. I hated that it made me soft. I hated that it made me human again.

When I stepped into the pack house, the air was lighter, scented with the faint sweetness of the daffodils I carried. Laughter drifted from the main sitting room, a sound I hadn’t heard in too long. My feet slowed as I reached the doorway.

Josie sat curled up on the couch, her hair tumbling over her shoulder as she leaned toward Kiel, smiling. That smile—it hit me like a punch to the chest. Varen sat across from them, wearing the ghost of a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. I’d known him long enough to recognize when something was wrong.

Kiel’s hand brushed against Josie’s cheek as he said something that made her laugh softly. I looked down at the flowers in my hand, suddenly aware of how ridiculous they felt. I cleared my throat, forcing a crooked smirk onto my lips as I stepped into the room.

"What’s so funny that you’re all smiling like idiots?"

Josie looked up, her smile faltering before returning with shy warmth. "You’re back early," she said, tilting her head slightly. "Did you go out for those?"

I raised the flowers. "Yeah. Thought the garden could use a few more."

Kiel’s grin widened. "Or maybe you just missed us."

I scoffed, setting the flowers on the table. "Keep dreaming." Then, before I could stop myself, I asked, "What are you three plotting this time?"

Kiel’s eyes lit up, and I immediately regretted the question. "A trip," he said eagerly. "I was thinking Josie and I could take a few days off, head toward the southern woods. She needs a break."

A muscle in my jaw tightened. "A trip?" I repeated slowly. "Now? After everything that’s happened?"

Kiel shrugged, feigning innocence. "What? The pack’s fine. The borders are quiet. We deserve some peace."

Josie glanced between us, hesitating before speaking. "It’s just... I think it would be nice to breathe again, Thorne. The air feels different out there. Lighter."

Her voice was soft, but it hit deeper than any blade could. I wanted her to have that peace—goddess, I wanted it more than anything—but the idea of her leaving the pack’s protection made my stomach twist.

I forced a smile that didn’t feel like mine. "It’s a good idea," I said slowly, "but it’s not time yet. We need to make sure everything’s stable first. You know that."

Kiel groaned, leaning back on the couch. "You’re always so damn tense. We’re not children, Thorne."

"And you’re not invincible," I shot back, my tone sharper than I intended. The silence that followed was thick and awkward.

Josie reached for my hand but stopped halfway, her eyes searching mine. "He’s just trying to help," she murmured, her voice carrying that quiet strength that could unravel me without trying.

"Yeah," I said roughly. "I know." I turned to Varen, who had barely said a word. "Come with me. We need to talk."

Josie frowned. "We haven’t even finished talking about the trip."

"Later," I said, already heading toward my office.

The walls of my office were lined with maps and old documents, the smell of whiskey sharp in the air. I poured two glasses and handed one to Varen. He took it without looking at me, his eyes distant.

"What’s on your mind?" he asked, voice low.

I gave a short, humorless laugh. "You tell me. You’ve been walking around like you’ve seen a ghost."

Varen downed half his drink before answering. "Borders are secure. The seer confirmed the witches have retreated. We’ll capture their leader soon."

"That’s not what I asked."

He stiffened. "I’m fine."

I studied him for a long moment. He wasn’t fine. His shoulders were tense, his hands trembling slightly around the glass. Guilt radiated off him in waves.

"You’re lying," I said flatly.

He looked up sharply. "You think I don’t know that?" His voice cracked with restrained frustration. "I almost lost her, Thorne. You, too. I can’t shake it off like it’s nothing."

Something in me softened, just for a moment. I looked away, swirling the whiskey in my glass. "She’s here, Varen. Alive. That’s what matters."

He didn’t respond, just stared into the amber liquid like it held all the answers he couldn’t find.

After a while, I sighed. "You’re not the only one who feels like that, you know. I wake up in the middle of the night expecting her to still be gone. Expecting all of this to be—" I broke off. "Forget it."

Before he could reply, the door creaked open.

Josie stood there, framed by the light from the hall. Her eyes moved from me to Varen, reading the tension instantly. "Did I interrupt something?" she asked.

Varen set his glass down and stood. "I was just leaving."

"Leaving?" she repeated, frowning. "But I just got here."

He gave her a small, forced smile. "We’ll talk later." And then he brushed past her, disappearing down the hall.

Josie turned to me, confusion etched across her face. "What’s wrong with him?"

I sighed, setting my drink aside. "He’s not happy. I don’t know if it’s about you or... something else."

Her brows furrowed. "I’ll talk to him."

I moved before I even thought about it, crossing the room in two strides. When she turned to leave, I pressed a hand against the door, blocking her way. She froze, and I stepped closer until her back met the wood, my breath brushing her ear.

"You can talk to him later," I murmured, my voice low and rough. "But right now... I need you."