VICTORIA

My lips are sealed shut. I look at Thorne with wide eyes as he questions one of my biggest insecurities: My inexperience with men.

Cancer kept me so debilitated that a simple glance at my feeble body would often bring me to the verge of tears. The rare showers I was allowed were painful not only because of my sore, bruised body but because I felt every rib in my torso as I dragged a sponge over my pale skin.

I never felt confident in my deteriorating body. And if I couldn't love myself, then embracing a lover was also out of the question. So no, I've never known a man's warmth.

I could never even imagine a man looking at me with anything other than pity and disgust. Humans were so superstitious, and education was so scarce that many shied away from the terminal patients at the hospital, fearing our disease was contagious.

Thorne scans my face for a few moments, and I wonder what he sees. Will he suspect me now?

The man chuckles. He chuckles before bursting into a belly-full laugh.

"When did you become so amusing?" he asks. "We can agree that many things have changed about you since the fall, but there is no changing your...scarlet past."

You scarlet whore.

His silent judgment unnerves me. Makes me feel like I'm being scrutinized for things I didn't do. That was Maeve's past, not mine. I cannot scorn the woman because I don't know her, but it's moments like these that I fucking wish she hadn't screwed around the Alpha. All her mistakes are reflected in me.

Thorne doesn't look at me with contempt, just amusement. He's stepping above judgment because he's too confident in himself. He knows Maeve shot herself in the foot by screwing another male. Thorne is an Alpha. A male bred from centuries of apex predators. Power is written all over the hard lines of his body and inside his veins. Even something as simple as his height is designed to make him tower in crowds, making eyes naturally turn to him and leave no denying who the leader is.

Maeve should have never betrayed him. Thorne is an incredible male, and I know–my womb knows every time I look at him–that no male satisfies in bed like he can.

"Get in bed," he says, gesturing for it and making no effort to put a shirt on. Putting the topic to rest.

I fear that he thinks I've been faking my discomfort with his nudity. To appear innocent or some twisted manipulation. But I won't press on. I'll just have to get used to his bare chest and stop being so childish.

Fang stays by the window, staring creepily at the dark woods, but no longer growling.

I suppose we're both confident that Thorne can protect us.

I slide under Thorne's lush sheets, conscious of how I wrinkle them. I sit at the very edge and pull the covers to my chest.

God, the sheets are softer than mine. I doubt I'll be able to get out of bed tomorrow morning.

Thorne turns off the light before sliding into the bed. It feels like the temperature under the sheets instantly increases a few degrees. Heat wraps around me. I wonder if it's mental or if Thorne is burning like a furnace.

I shut my eyes tight and think of tomorrow. I must do a few things: reply to Maeve's friend and pick up books about the werewolf culture. I've been learning, but I must pick up the pace if I want to get out of here. I must find maps and learn about travel.

"Thorne?" I whisper. "Are you awake?"

"Hmm?" he replies, the deep sound rumbling through the vast bedroom, rattling my heart and the bed.

"Id like to know if I can go to the library tomorrow."

"Why are you asking me this? You can roam my house, Maeve. You're not a prisoner."

"My house."

I notice how he doesn't say our house. We are mates, but he doesn't acknowledge this much.

Don't werewolves divide property like humans do? Whatever. I have no interest in his wealth. Although I've gotten the impression that Maeve was very much intrigued by it.

"Okay, thank you."

He rumbles again, the mattress carrying the vibrations over to me. I know he is a werewolf, but how animalistic he seems, even in his human form, is formidable. Every little gesture and sound he makes is barbaric. Not in an unpleasant way. Just... remarkable.

"And. Um..."

"What is it?" he huffs, seeming to run out of patience.

"I was wondering if I could get a job? Something small to earn my keep?"

I hold my breath. I've been working up to this moment for many days now. My mission has been to get the money to return to Europe since I woke up in Maeve's body.

Thorne chuckles again. "You? Working? You have outdone yourself with jokes today, Maeve."

The bed shifts as he turns to his side. I'm not sure which side, but I sure as fuck hope he's facing away from me.

Based on the increased heat I feel in my lower back, I'm guessing the predator is looking directly at me. And suddenly, his bedroom doesn't feel much safer than mine, where Fang was growling at the darkness.

This story is free on Wattpad. If you're paying for it, it has been stolen. Please email me at 1ancientt at gmail to inform me.

– –

I awake alone. Both Fang and his master are gone. Thorne's side of the bed is cold, and the bedroom is spotless.

He must have quietly left earlier in the morning. The man is too heavy to be that stealthy. It's unfair.

I slip out of bed, fix the sheets, and peep into his bathroom. Spotting a robe, I put it on and walk out of the bedroom in my tippy-toes, afraid of leaving anything undone.

I feel ashamed as I make the long journey back to my bedroom. I come across some maids who are shocked to see me in a robe and uncombed hair.

Thorne's scent is heavy on me. I can smell him all over me, so hopefully, it's clear to everyone that I spent the night with him and no other male. Maeve's reputation is soiled enough.

I admire the mansion as I rush to my bedroom. Sunlight streams through tall, arched windows, illuminating the rich mahogany walls and polished marble floors. Velvet curtains hang elegantly at the sides, while stern portraits in gilded frames leave me in awe, especially the females, which I presume are past Lunas. The air smells of old books and polished wood, and the warmth of the day fills the grand hallways.

I make it to the grand hall leading to my bedroom. On my way there, I cross Beta Lorcan. He stares at his watch as he rushes down the hall, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt.

"Good morning, Beta Lorcan." I smile at him.

His head snaps in my direction, and he looks at me cautiously.

"Maeve...hey." He scans my robe. I probably look crazy. He's right to feel unnerved by my state.

"Oh, sorry about my attire, I'm about to go to my room and change," I say. "I heard the maids talking about a fire. Is everything okay? I forgot to ask Thorne about it."

He closes the distance between us, looks over my shoulder, and unexpectedly snatches me into the nearest room.

I can only manage a gasp as I'm dragged by the large werewolf.

A light is clicked on, and I find myself in a large supply closet.

"What are you doing?" he whispers.

"I–I'm sorry? Is this about the robe? You don't think Thorne would be mad, would you?"

"Maeve, look. If you're trying to make me jealous, it's working, alright?" He slaps a hand on the wall beside my head.

Jealous?! What the fuck is this about? I thought Lorcan and Maeve only had a professional relationship! The one time I met him was with Thorne. He was kind as he wished me a speedy recovery, but there was no indication that we were anything but acquaintances.

"But we can't screw around again. I can't do that to my mate. And besides, Thorne was my best friend growing up. Our families have been leading this pack together for generations, for fuck's sake." He growls. "But I... I envied him, and I made a mistake with you. It can't happen again."

I cup my mouth as terror immobilizes me.

Maeve...cheated with the Beta? Oh, goddess! This is horrible!

"Don't look at me like that. You were vengeful because Thorne kept rejecting you, but what we did wasn't right." He shakes his head, his eyes sorrowful.

Fuck this shit.

And fuck this guy. He can shove his I know better bullshit up where no one will find it.

I push past him and get the fuck out of that closet. Picking up my long robe as I run for the safety of my bedroom.