73

73
Thalia’s POV

The first sign was the heat.
It started as a flicker under my skin, the bond tugging sharp and restless, like embers pressed against my veins. I froze where I stood, halfway across the corridor outside the council wing. The stone floor beneath my feet was cool, but my palms burned as though I had pressed them against a hearth.
Jaden.
My breath caught. I didn’t need to see him. I could feel him unraveling through the bond, the threads pulling taut, every heartbeat like a hammer in my chest.
“Thalia?” Mara’s voice was a whisper behind me. She had insisted on trailing me this far, despite my protests. Now she looked pale, uneasy, her dark eyes darting to the heavy oak doors of the council chamber. “What’s happening?”
The flames surged sharper through the bond, hot enough to sting. I swallowed hard. “He’s losing control.”
Even saying it aloud made my stomach twist. The curse wasn’t some distant thing we whispered about in fear. It was him, alive under his skin, clawing at the edges of his restraint. And now I felt it pressing through every nerve in my body.
A thud echoed from inside the chamber—wood splintering, a table struck. The guards outside shifted, their hands brushing their blades but not drawing them. They looked nervous, glancing at one another as though waiting for someone braver to act.
Mara clutched my arm. “We need to get you out of here.”
“No.” My answer came too fast, too sharp. Her eyes widened, but I didn’t let go. “If I leave, it will only get worse. He’ll break completely.”
She hesitated, torn between fear and loyalty. “Thalia, if you go in there—”
The bond tugged violently, almost throwing me forward. Heat coiled tight around my ribs, choking. His fury, his fire, it wasn’t contained anymore.
I didn’t think. I pushed past the guards, ignoring their startled protests, and shoved at the doors. They groaned open, spilling light, smoke, and the heavy stench of burning wood into the corridor.
The sight stole my breath.
Jaden stood at the head of the council table, shoulders broad and rigid, his claws dug deep into the wood. Fire licked at the edges of his hands, searing, blackening the surface beneath him. His eyes glowed molten, no trace of the man—only the wolf, the curse, something primal and terrifying.
The Elders were pressed back against their chairs, faces pale with fear and awe. Elder Coran stood defiantly near the opposite end, lips curved in a cold, satisfied smile. He looked like a man who had thrown oil onto a flame just to watch it burn.
“Jaden,” I whispered, but the sound barely carried over the crackle of fire.
His head snapped toward me. For a heartbeat, I thought I saw him—recognition flickering beneath the blaze. Then the fire surged higher, flooding his gaze again.
The bond screamed with his rage. My chest heaved as heat tore through me, searing and suffocating, but I stepped closer anyway.
“Jaden,” I said again, louder this time, forcing my voice steady. “Look at me.”
The Elders muttered nervously, shifting in their seats. Veyra hissed under her breath, “Get her out—”
“No.” My voice cut sharper than hers, carrying across the chamber. “You want to see the curse consume him? Then watch how it doesn’t.”
Every step I took was like walking into fire. My skin prickled, sweat dripping down my temple, but I didn’t stop. His claws tore deeper into the table, smoke rising, the scent of scorched wood filling the chamber.
“Thalia.” His voice was gravel, distorted, not fully his own. The sound raised every hair on my arms.
I swallowed, heart racing. “I’m here.”
He snarled, the sound shaking the walls, but his eyes flickered again—heat clashing with something softer, something desperate.
I reached the table and pressed my hand flat over his scorched, clawed one. The pain was immediate, sharp, blistering, but I didn’t pull away.
Through the bond, his fire surged into me, but instead of consuming, it tangled, desperate, searching. I gritted my teeth and forced my voice steady. “You don’t belong to the curse, Jaden. You belong to me.”
His chest heaved, breath ragged, and the flames faltered for the briefest second.
Coran sneered. “Fool girl. He will burn you too.”
Something inside me snapped. I spun, fury spitting from my tongue before I could stop it. “Better me than to let you poison him with your venom.”
The room went still.
Jaden’s grip tightened under mine, claws retracting slowly, painfully, like he was dragging them back into flesh by sheer will alone. His fire pulsed again, but this time it was softer, less destructive—like a wave receding instead of breaking.
I looked back at him, locking eyes. “Come back.”
His gaze wavered, the glow dimming, his breath shuddering as he fought it down. The wolf clawed still, furious, but he held. For me.
The chamber was deathly silent. Elders who moments before had looked ready to flee now stared, caught between fear and disbelief. The fire guttered, the shadows receded.
Jaden’s claws finally left the table, leaving behind deep, smoldering gouges. His hand trembled under mine, and for the first time I realized how much it cost him—every second of control was carved out of pain.
I squeezed tighter, ignoring the raw sting in my palm.
He let out a slow, shaking breath, then lowered his gaze—not in defeat, but in restraint.
The curse had not won.
But as I stood there, holding onto him, I saw Coran’s eyes narrow, calculation sparking behind his cold smile. He had wanted this moment—not to see Jaden lose control, but to show the rest of the Elders how close it was. And now, even with Jaden standing here, steadying himself, the seeds of doubt were planted.
I felt it through the bond: his shame, his fury, his exhaustion.
And under it all, the truth neither of us could ignore.
Next ti
me, I might not be enough to pull him back.