Chapter 172: Shattered Wals
Thorne
"Thorne, what are you even saying right now?" Josie’s voice cracked through the tension that filled the kitchen. Her eyes — those damn eyes that always managed to pierce right through me — were bright with unshed tears. "Do you even realize how much you’ve been hurting me since this morning?"
Her words hit hard, but I refused to let her see that. I clenched my jaw, keeping my expression blank.
"Josie—"
"No!" she snapped, stepping forward. "Do you even hear yourself anymore? You’d rather believe everyone else but me. Is that what this is now? You can’t trust me unless someone else tells you I’m right?"
I could feel the anger rising in my chest, raw and sharp. I didn’t want to hear it. Not right now. Not after the mess of a day it had already been.
"I don’t want to hear all that," I growled, cutting her off. "I want to know why you’ve chosen to punish me."
"Punish you?" she echoed, disbelief flashing across her face.
"Yes!" I snapped, my voice echoing off the walls. "Because I don’t remember what happened that night. I don’t remember sleeping with you, Josie, and you’ve been treating me like I’m the villain ever since!"
Her lips parted, a small, bitter scoff escaping. She turned away from me, her shoulders trembling. "We’re really back to that again, aren’t we?"
I said nothing. My chest heaved, the silence pressing between us like a weight.
"We already talked about that," she said, her voice tight but steady. "You’re the one who keeps holding onto it, not me. That’s not my fault."
My hands curled into fists. "Then maybe you should’ve done a better job convincing me that you’ve forgiven me," I bit out. "Because from where I’m standing, all I see is resentment."
Her eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face. "You think I haven’t tried? Gods, Thorne, I’m tired of trying! You make it impossible to breathe around you sometimes."
I ignored the sting in her tone and took a step back. "Then maybe I shouldn’t be here at all."
"Maybe you shouldn’t."
The words hit harder than I expected, but I forced myself to look away. "I can’t stay in the same room with you when every conversation turns into this," I muttered. "But before I go, you need to stop abusing your powers. You can’t keep using them on people or things when you’re angry. You’re better than that."
Her lip trembled, and I caught the shimmer of tears she tried to hide. For a brief second, guilt clawed at my chest — but I buried it deep before it could take root.
Without another word, I turned and walked away.
The door slammed behind me, the sound echoing like thunder through the empty hallway.
By the time I reached my room, I just wanted silence. But fate clearly had other plans.
Varen and Kiel were there.
Varen stood by the window, twirling the old sword I kept mounted behind my bed — his long fingers brushing over the silver blade like it was some kind of toy. Kiel, on the other hand, sat casually on my motorbike, his boots crossed over the footrest, looking as out of place as ever.
I groaned under my breath. "What the hell are you two doing in my room?"
Kiel didn’t look up. "Waiting."
"For what?"
Varen set the sword down carefully and turned to face me. "You."
My patience was thinning. "You’ve got five seconds to make sense before I throw you both out that window."
Kiel finally raised his head, exhaling deeply. "Relax, Thorne. We’re not here to fight."
"Good," I said, walking to the small bar in the corner. "Because I’m not in the mood for another lecture."
Varen crossed his arms. "That’s too bad, because you’re getting one anyway."
I paused mid-motion, my back to them. "Excuse me?"
"Why are you being so damn hard on Josie?" Varen asked, voice low but firm. "She’s trying to understand her powers, Thorne. For once in her life, she’s actually embracing them instead of fearing them. And you—"
"I’m trying to protect her!" I snapped, spinning around.
"No," he countered sharply. "You’re controlling her."
The accusation made something in me snap. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Don’t I?" He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "You think stopping her from training is going to help anyone? It’s not. It’s only making her weaker — and angrier."
Kiel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "He’s right, Thorne. This isn’t helping."
I gritted my teeth, reaching for the glass on the shelf. "You both think you’ve got all the answers, huh?"
I poured myself a drink — bourbon, dark and biting — and downed it in one swallow before speaking again. "Josie’s not destroying everything we built," I said flatly, pouring another. "I won’t let that happen."
Varen let out a dry laugh. "You think this is about destruction? Josie’s the only one holding this pack together right now. Without her, we’d all be falling apart."
I turned, my eyes narrowing. "You really believe that?"
"I know that."
"And you think she’s strong enough to fix everything?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "She’s too emotional. Too childish."
Kiel finally stood, his expression darkening. "Don’t you dare talk about her like that."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, what? You’re her knight in shining armor now?"
"Enough!" Kiel barked, his voice echoing across the room. "You’re angry, I get it. But stop blaming her for everything that goes wrong. Not everything’s her fault."
My fists clenched again, heat rushing through my chest. "You don’t get it, Kiel. You’ve never had to be the one making the decisions. The one everyone expects to have control."
"No," he said, stepping forward, "you just make sure to remind us of that every damn time something happens. You’re so obsessed with control that you can’t see what it’s costing you."
I glared at him, my pulse pounding.
He didn’t back down. "You’re the one acting immature here, not her. You’re so damn selfish, Thorne. You want everything your way — your rules, your timing, your comfort. But that’s not how any of this works."
The words hit harder than I wanted to admit.
Kiel looked disgusted. "You know what? Forget it."
He turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him.
Silence followed — heavy, suffocating.
I turned my gaze to Varen, who was still standing near the window, watching me with a mixture of pity and irritation.
"What are you still doing here?" I muttered.
He shrugged. "Trying not to punch you."
"Then leave before you fail at it."
But Varen didn’t move. His voice was softer now. "I’m not even mad at you anymore, Thorne. Not as much as I want to be."
I frowned. "Then what the hell do you want from me?"
He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "A favor."
I arched a brow. "A favor?"
"Yes." He met my gaze directly. "Reject her."
The words froze me. "What?"
"You heard me."
Rage surged like wildfire. "You think I’d ever—"
"Why not?" he cut in sharply. "It’d make things easier, wouldn’t it? You clearly don’t know how to treat her. Maybe if you reject her, she’ll finally stop being your emotional punching bag."
"Watch it," I warned, my voice low and dangerous.
Varen didn’t flinch. "No. You watch it. Because every time you can’t handle your feelings, you take them out on her. And I’m sick of it."
My chest heaved, fury and guilt twisting together until I couldn’t tell one from the other.
"You think I want to hurt her?" I shouted. "You think I like this?"
"I think you don’t know how to stop," he shot back. "And until you do, maybe she’s better off without you."
That broke something inside me.
I grabbed the nearest thing — the glass still half-full — and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, shards scattering across the floor.
Varen didn’t even flinch. He just stared at me with that same quiet disappointment that burned worse than anger.
"Get out," I said through clenched teeth.
He nodded once, eyes cold. "You’ll realize it someday. Maybe when there’s nothing left to break."
And then he left.
The door closed behind him with a soft click that felt louder than any slam.
For a long time, I stood there in silence, my chest rising and falling, the sound of my own breathing filling the room.
Then the rage took over.
I swept my arm across the bar, sending bottles crashing to the ground. I tore the framed photo off the wall — the one of all of us before everything went to hell — and hurled it into the mirror.
Glass shattered.
My reflection broke into a thousand pieces, each one mocking me.
And for the first time in years, I let myself feel the weight of everything I’d done — and everything I couldn’t undo.