Page 78 of The Shadow Sanctum

I swallow hard, but the words spill out before I can stop them. “Sawyer understands me.”

That gets to him. I see it in the flicker of pain that flashes across his face, there and gone so fast it nearly breaks me.

Thorne looks down as his lips press into a thin line. He breathes through his nose, heavy, deliberate. “You think he does,” he mutters, “but one day, when it matters, you’ll see the truth. He’ll leave. Or he’ll turn against you. But either way, he’s going to decide he can’t be here anymore. And we both know he can weasel his way out of here.”

I shake my head. “You’re wrong.” My voice is sharp enough to cut, though it wavers at the edges. “Sawyer may not be like us, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t belong. It just means he’ll go through an adjustment period. Like all initiates do.”

“You sound like you have long-term plans for him.”

“I do,” I say, but I don’t really mean it.

Thorne is probably right… One day, maybe soon, Sawyer will leave.

But it changes little. Miracles do not happen twice, and the way my heart has drawn life is nothing short of a miracle. It’s fruitless to think of what will be lost when Sawyer is gone, when all could be lost tomorrow.

Thorne’s eyes snap to mine, storm-dark and full of something heavier than jealousy. Hurt, betrayal, grief, all woven together. “What does that make me, then? Your mate? Or your mistress?”

The question guts me. I face forward for what feels like too many strides, letting him stomp beside me. He sounds angry, but it’s only on the surface. Mostly, he sounds scared.

It hits me all at once what I’m about to do. What I promised Sawyer I would do.

And it feels like too much. Right now, it’s way too much.

Slowing to a stop, I turn to Thorne. My breath fogs the air between us. “Thorne.”

I reach for his arm … and feel even more guilty when he doesn’t pull away. “You’ve been my best friend my entire life. I care for you. I respect you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved my blood. I’ve known you the better part of my life, while Sawyer, I’ve only known for a couple months. I…” I take in a slow breath. “I could never turn my back on you… But the love I feel for you is a different kind than I feel for Sawyer.”

His throat works as he swallows. His shoulders stiffen, his hand flexing like he needs something to hold onto. For a moment, I think he might argue, might fight me. But instead, he just exhales shakily, eyes searching mine like he’s memorizing what he’s losing.

“You love him,” he says—quiet, broken.

Frowning, I nod.

His eyes water as he looks off and blinks away tears it must kill him to show.

I want to comfort him. I want to tell him this doesn’t change what he means to me, that he’s not losing me. Because it’s the truth. He’s family. He’s the closest family I’ve ever had.

But he isn’t my mate. In time, I think he’ll see this is the way it’s supposed to be, even if it isn’t the way that we both wanted.

For now… I stay silent.

The snow crunches beneath his boots as he shifts his weight, squaring his shoulders like he’s bracing for a blow.

“I hope you change your mind someday, Luna. And if you do… I’ll be here,” he says finally, his voice raw, hoarse.

“And if I don’t?”

He gives me the saddest, most beautiful smile. Almost as beautiful as Sawyer’s. “I’ll still be here.”

The words strike me deep. Loyalty, even now. It’s everything I admire about him. And everything that makes this cut worse.

When I’m unable to find a reply that doesn’t taste like ash, I nod. Breath fogs between us, then disappears into the wind. For a long moment, all I can do is stand with him in the cold, the weight of sickness and betrayal and impossible choices pressing down on both of us.

Then Thorne opens his arms.

Not with demand, not with desperation. Just quiet invitation. A gesture so simple it nearly undoes me.

My chest aches as I stare at him. Part of me wants to refuse, to keep the boundary sharp and unyielding. But another part, the part that remembers every broken bone he carried me through, every dark night he stood guard outside my door, can’t resist.