Chapter 24
“You should just eat with the soldiers next time, Gamma,” Jory muttered under his breath, still simmering. “At least there, you don’t have to share a room with backstabbers in pearls.”
I chuckled softly and nudged his shoulder. “Thanks for the invitation. I might just take you up on that.”
We were tucked away in a quiet corner of the dining hall, far from the sycophants and liars that had nearly ruined my morning. I was more curious about Thorne’s unexpected defense than I cared to admit, but I didn’t want to confront him in a room full of leeches pretending to sip tea while digesting gossip.
Instead, Jory and I focused on breakfast–scrambled eggs, fresh berries, honey–drizzled toast. A small moment of peace I wasn’t going to waste.
At the far end of the room, Thorne had taken his seat in silence, ignoring Miela entirely. She was still kneeling on the marble floor, tears staining her cheeks as if that would summon pity. When it didn’t, her mother gave her a sharp nudge.
“Go,” Corla hissed through clenched teeth. “Fix it. Now.”
Reluctantly, Miela stood. She smoothed down her dress, grabbed a tray, and began piling it with Thorne’s favorite foods— shrimp cocktail, smoked salmon, spring salad. A glass of iced tea. The usual performance.
She slid into the seat beside him, pushing the tray across the table like it was a peace offering made of silk.
“I brought you breakfast, Alpha,” she said in a soft, honeyed voice. “I thought you might need something before the day begins.”
Thorne gave her a look colder than the iced tea she served. No words. Just flick of his gaze.
Still, he dragged the tray toward himself and began eating. Miela let out a breath she clearly thought he wouldn’t hear.
She always assumed his silence meant forgiveness.
“Alpha,” she said sweetly, curling her fingers around the edge of his sleeve. “I don’t mean to complain, but… about Elara. I know she’s important. I respect her. Really. But throwing me out of the room like that was unnecessary. She’s still the same hot–tempered girl she’s always been…”
Clink.
The silver fork slipped from Thorne’s hand, clattering against the plate. His eyes lifted, stormy and unreadable.
“She’s in our territory, after all,” Miela added with a pout. “She should respect the rules, not act like she owns the place.”
Thorne didn’t speak. For a moment, he just stared.
Then slowly, dangerously, he leaned forward.
“You said she doesn’t take me seriously,” he murmured, “but what about you, Miela?”
Miela’s smile twitched.
“W–What do you mean?”
His hand reached out, seizing her chin with just enough force to make her freeze.
“If you respected me,” Thorne said lowly, “you wouldn’t have lied to my face.”
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Chapter 241
Her lips parted, but no words came.
“I spoke to the staff,” he continued, his tone colder than ice. “They told me who put Elara in that basement.”
“Alpha, I—”
“Save it.”
His voice was sharp now. Unrelenting. “You think the past gives you immunity? That one act of kindness erases all this?”
Tears began to fall freely down Miela’s cheeks. “I–I wasn’t thinking. I just- I didn’t mean to–please, I’m sorry…”
Thorne let her go.
“Last chance,” he said firmly. “Get out of my sight.”
She didn’t wait to be told twice. She stood, stumbled, and nearly tripped in her haste to flee.
Once she was gone, Thorne rubbed his temples, the weight of everything pressing down. The lies. The betrayal. The realization that for years, he’d let Elara suffer under the very people he thought were “good.”
What else had Miela done?
What else had he missed?
His eyes drifted to the other side of the hall–there she was. Elara. Laughing.
And not with him.
That soldier boy–Jory, was it?-was beside her, handing her a grape like they were longtime lovers. She smiled at him with the same warmth Thorne hadn’t seen since before she was kidnapped.
A pang of something bitter rose in his throat.
The next second, they stood up and left the hall together.
Thorne shot to his feet.
He had no plan–just instinct.
**
We had just stepped into the sunlight when I heard footsteps storming up behind us.
“Elara!”
I turned. Thorne.
His face was tense, his stride stiff. He came to a halt in front of us, panting slightly.
“Can I talk to you? Just for a moment?”
I folded my arms. “There’s nothing to say.”
He looked taken aback, as if expecting the girl from the past–the quiet, eager–to–please version of me–to return.
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Chapter 24
“Please,” he said again, softer now. “It’s about the past. About Miela. About us.”
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