Thorne's POV
I slammed my fist into the wall the second I stepped out of Elara’s room. The concrete cracked under my knuckles, but the pain felt good. It matched the storm raging inside my chest. Rage burned through every inch of me.
I had stayed by her side day and night, barely sleeping, leaning on that damn bed just to make sure she was breathing. And the moment she woke up, she looked at me like I was some kind of monster who wanted to trap her.
I couldn’t help it. A bitter laugh escaped me, but there was nothing funny about the sound. It echoed down the empty hospital hallway like a broken thing. She said she would have rather died than wear my mark. Those words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. My chest felt tight, like someone had punched a hole right through it.
‘You know she
