Chapter 112

Aurora’s POV

There’s something off about Thorne today.

I noticed he was a bit distant this morning when we arrived at work, rushing around to get several things done, but he told me he could handle it himself.

And now?

“You’re leaving early?” I ask, looking up from my computer.

“Yes, but don’t worry. Jace will bring you home like usual,” he says while grabbing his jacket and keys.

I blink, trying not to think negatively as I ask, “Is everything alright?”

He pauses, hesitating for a second too long before smiling, “Yeah. Just pack stuff.” Then he leans in, kisses my forehead—not my lips—and walks out of the office. No explanation other than ‘pack stuff.’

What does that even mean?

The door clicks shut, and silence falls over me. Something is happening. I can feel it, like you can feel a vibration under the ground before an earthquake. Maybe I’m being paranoid or maybe I’m just worried, but a part of me wonders if he’s going to do something dangerous.

Or is it something else?

The nerves begin to creep in, and I can’t focus on work for the last two hours of the day. By the time Jace and I get in the car, I’m practically buzzing with anxiety.

“So… is something going on with Thorne?” I ask as he pulls away from the building. I don’t miss the way Jace’s hands tighten on the steering wheel or the awkward laugh that falls from his lips.

“Nope,” he chuckles. “Everything’s fine.”

I turn more toward him and narrow my eyes, “You’re a terrible liar.”

He glances at me and huffs a breath that almost sounds like a genuine laugh. Almost. Yet, he still has that stiff air about him as he says, “Aurora, everything is fine. I think you’re just tired. You’ve been working non-stop since you came back to work, and after everything you went through, I think you should’ve rested for a bit longer.”

I hum in response, still unsure if he’s trying to placate me or if he is being sincere. Jace is usually kind and easy to read, but today, like Thorne, he’s acting strange.

“Maybe take a nap when we get back. That could help you clear your head,” he adds, and I smack his arm.

“Don’t lie to me,” I growl, narrowing my eyes. “I know something is going on, and you know it too. Thorne has acted weird all day, and on top of that, he left early and didn’t take me with him. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Jace looks at me briefly, then turns his eyes back to the road, his hands sliding down to the bottom of the steering wheel. “It’s not my place to say.”

My heart jumps in my chest before it sinks to my stomach. “Jace, you—”

“Just trust Thorne,” he says, his tone softer than it was before. “You know he won’t do anything to hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” I mutter, turning to peer out of the window. The only sound between us for the rest of the ride is the soft music coming from the radio. My nerves kick up another notch when we arrive at the house, and I notice Thorne’s car already in the driveway.

My nerves bunch and wind tighter and tighter as I climb out of the car. Jace waves at me and quickly pulls away, leaving me standing in front of the house.

Why am I so nervous?

I try to walk forward, but my feet won’t move.

“Just go inside,” I mutter, praying that nothing bad has happened. “He’s waiting for you.”

It takes a few deep breaths and a few times of telling myself that everything will be alright before head inside. I push the front door open and the smell hits me first. Something soft and floral… roses?

The entryway is empty, but when I look down, I find a trail of petals leading down the short entry hall.

What the hell is going on?

My breath catches in my throat as I follow the trail of flower petals, turning to the living room only to stop at the sight before me.

The room is glowing with a soft golden light. Hundreds of tiny candles flicker from every surface—the bookshelves, tables, windowsills. The overhead lights are dimmed low, creating a golden shadow across everything.

And in the center, Thorne waits. He stands there, dressed in black slacks and a navy-blue button-up shirt that hugs his frame perfectly. His hair is combed back nicely, except for a few little pieces that refuse to cooperate.

I let my eyes move down his body, taking him in, until I come to his hands and… a small, dark velvet box he holds.

I freeze.

“Thorne?”

My voice is barely a whisper as my heart jumps in my chest. What is he doing? When did he plan this? So many questions fire though my mind all at the same time as I watch him smile. A hint of nervousness sits in his eyes, but there’s also hope there.

“I know it’s unexpected, and I probably over did it with the tiny candles all over the place, but I couldn’t wait any longer,” Thorne says, and then he takes a step closer and drops to one knee.

Oh, no.

“Aurora Roberts…” His voice is strong and steady, the exact opposite of how I’m feeling right now. “From the moment I met you, you’ve changed my life for the better. You challenged me to be a better man, changed my perspective on things that I hadn’t thought about, and made me happier than I ever thought I could be. I want you at my side for the rest of my life. As my mate and as my Luna. Will you marry me?”

What happened next should have been happy… should have been a magical moment.

Instead, my chest tightens and my stomach drops.

My words catch in my throat, lodged there as if someone had stuffed cotton down my throat. My heart pounds against my ribs, but it isn’t the fluttery kind of feeling. This is more violent, more afraid.

I try to catch my breath as words of others echo in my head.

“Powerful bloodline…”

“Daughter of the Lycan King…”

“Direct descendant of the Goddess…”

“Capable of bearing the strongest heirs…”

“We would only allow him to marry an Alpha female or a werewolf of similar standing…”

All I can hear are their voices, replaying over and over in my mind.

I stare at Thorne, the man I love, and all I can think about is how he hadn’t planned to propose before. Before he found out about my family, my lineage, my Lycan blood. I don’t want to believe that he’s choosing to marry me now because of these things.

I want to believe that he loves me and wants to marry me, but can I?

The doubt settles on my shoulders like a boulder, and I take a step back.

“I…” My voice cracks, and I take another step back. “I can’t.”

Thorne’s smile falls, the excited glint in his eyes fading. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my hands shaking. “I just—I can’t. Not like this.”

“Why not?” He asks, but I’m already bolting. “Aurora! Wait!” I run upstairs, my heart pounding so loudly that it’s all I can hear. Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision, as I close and lock the bedroom door behind me.

“Aurora, talk to me!” Thorne calls out, but I can only slide to the floor and bury my face in my knees.

“I-I need time to think,” I sniffle, wiping at my eyes. I need time to process, because after everything, I need to know that he isn’t doing this because of some misguided sense of duty or guilt.

I hear a soft thump from the other side of the door and a sigh.

“Okay. I’ll give you time, but I’m not leaving you alone. If you need to think, then think. If you need to process, do that. But Aurora, just know that I love you and that I want to be with you. We can work through any hesitations or fear you feel.”

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back against the door.