The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in shades of red and gold. Ivy stepped carefully through the forest, her steps light on the cool earth. The path was familiar to her now, but tonight, there was a heaviness in the air. The trees seemed more alive, their twisted branches stretching overhead like long fingers, creating a canopy that blocked out the fading light.
As she walked deeper into the forest, Ivy could feel Thorne's presence—like a shadow that clung to her every step, unseen but undeniably there. Her heart skipped a beat. She had not expected to see him tonight, but it seemed as though the forest had other plans.
"I told you to stay away," his voice finally broke through the stillness. It was low and rough, like the sound of leaves rustling in a storm.
Ivy paused, her breath catching. "I know what you said," she replied softly, turning around to face the darkness. "But I can't stay away."
Thorne stepped into the moonlight, his form tall and imposing, the faint glow of his ethereal presence highlighting the sharp lines of his face. His eyes, those glowing, unnatural eyes, bore into her with a mixture of anger and something deeper—something almost desperate.
"You must stay away from them, Ivy," Thorne growled. His tone was sharp, but there was an undercurrent of worry in it, like a storm just before it broke. "The village will never understand you. They will only bring you pain."
Ivy's chest tightened, and she clenched her fists at her sides. "I can't leave them, Thorne," she said, her voice trembling. "They've known me my whole life. They're my family."
Thorne's eyes flickered to the side, his expression hardening. "Your family?" His laugh was cold and bitter. "They are not your family, Ivy. I am your family now. You belong here, with me, not with those fools in the village."
Ivy stepped closer, her heart thudding in her chest. She could feel the heat radiating off his form, the pull of him undeniable. "I… I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm torn, Thorne. I don't know where I belong anymore."
His eyes softened, though only just. He reached out, his hand brushing gently over her cheek. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down her spine. For a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The village, the unrest, the uncertainty—they all seemed so far away. It was just her and Thorne.
"I will not let them hurt you," he said quietly, his voice almost tender. "I will keep you safe, Ivy. They do not understand what you are. What we are."
She didn't know what to say. Part of her wanted to run back to the village, to fight for them, to prove that she was still one of them. But another part, the part that felt the undeniable pull of Thorne's words, wanted to stay with him, to give in to the strange connection they shared.
"I know," Ivy whispered, her voice full of vulnerability. "But I can't leave them. I can't abandon the people who need me."
Thorne's expression darkened, and for a moment, she thought she saw something darker flash in his eyes—a flicker of something primal, something possessive. "If you will not leave them, then I will not let them have you. Not when they are so weak."
Before Ivy could respond, Thorne closed the distance between them, pulling her into the heat of his chest. The warmth from his body enveloped her, and for the first time in days, Ivy felt truly safe. She tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. There was no fear in her heart now, only a deep yearning that she didn't want to acknowledge.
Thorne's fingers slid through her hair, tilting her head slightly. "Stay with me, Ivy," he murmured. "Let them go. Let me take care of you. Let me protect you."
His voice was like a siren's call, low and persuasive, wrapping around her heart. Ivy closed her eyes, her breath shallow. "I… I don't know if I can."
"You can," he whispered fiercely, his lips grazing her ear. "All you have to do is trust me."
The weight of his words pressed down on her chest, suffocating yet comforting. She felt as though she were drowning in him, in the way his presence filled her senses. Her pulse quickened as his lips moved down the side of her neck, brushing lightly against the sensitive skin there.
Her heart hammered in her chest, and every fiber of her being screamed at her to pull away, to leave this intoxicating moment. But Ivy didn't move. She let him hold her. Let him whisper things to her that made her head spin.
Thorne pulled back slightly, his eyes darkened with desire and something much deeper, more possessive. "You belong to me, Ivy," he said softly, his voice like a vow. "And I will not let anyone take you from me."
Ivy's breath caught in her throat, her mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. Was it true? Was she truly his? Or was it just the darkness in him that spoke so loudly, the force that pushed her closer and closer to the edge of something she couldn't understand?
But in that moment, none of that mattered.
"Then prove it," she whispered, her voice unsteady.
Thorne growled, pulling Ivy close, his hands tightening around her waist. A shiver wracked her, her pulse pounding as the intensity threatened to consume her.
Their attraction was electric, undeniable, pulling them together until they nearly touched.
He looked down, his expression fierce yet softened by a hunger she couldn't define.
The golden glow in his eyes illuminated the scarred ridges on his face and neck, captivating Ivy. The air crackled with tension. Then, his mouth split open, revealing a long pink tongue that slowly licked her throat. Shock jolted her.
It wasn't normal
Not human.
He laid her down, his hands sliding up her thighs. A moan escaped her lips as his grip tightened, his strength intoxicating.
His touch promised something forbidden—dark, yet safe, beautiful. His skin glowed faintly, a stark reminder of his otherworldly nature: wild and powerful.
He spread her legs, his golden eyes locked on hers, their faces inches apart. The desperate hunger in his gaze thrilled her. "Tonight, you will be full of me," Thorne murmured. A primal heat ignited within her, a yearning to be possessed, claimed.