Thessara's footsteps echoed through the halls, her face pulled into a scowl, her cloak trailing behind her. She grumbled all the way; she had been preparing to take a well-needed rest when one of Thorne's warriors came barreling into her home. His majesty had called for her.

Why? Why did he only call for her whenever she was about to rest? She paused at the door, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. It was useless. She raised her hand to knock, but no. After calling her for sunny this afternoon, she'd gotten the right to barge in.

And barge in she did. She shoved the door open, her eyes landing on the king who was sitting in his usual position, papers spread across his table and one in his hand.

Thorne looked up, his brows furrowed. "Have you now lost the ability to knock, Thessara?" He asked, leaning back against the chair.

"Yes. Yes, I did," she bit out, looking around. "Who died?" She asked.

Thorne's brows furrowed. "Died? Where?"

Thessara stared at him with a deadpan expression. "Someone had to have died seeing as you insisted that I follow the warrior back here. Do you even know how hot and scorching the sun is?"

Thorne's jaw tightened, clearly unamused. "No one died."

Thessara narrowed her eyes. "Then why am I here?"

Thorne stood up. "I need something," he said.

She held up a hand. "If this is about the herbal blend I gave you for the spell, you're supposed to steep it, not directly apply it."

Thorne blinked. "What? No. That's not it."

Thessara stared at him for a second then nodded. "Is it the spell? Is it making you—"

"Gods! Thessara. Will you listen to me and stop coming up with things," Thorne snapped.

Thessara clamped her mouth shut and motioned for him to continue.

He stepped around the desk and stood before her. "I need something to suppress my rut."

The silence that followed was unbelievably loud. Thessara said nothing but stared at him like she hadn't assimilated the words that left his mouth.

Thessara's brows twitched. "You need… what?"

"You heard me. I need something to suppress my rut," he repeated calmly like he was telling her to brew some more cocoa powder for coffee.

She blinked at him blankly and then took a small step back like he'd just grown fangs and horns. "You summoned me when I was just about to sleep, you had your warrior drag me to the palace under the heat of an unforgiving scorching sun, to ask for an anti-rut concoction?"

Thorne nodded.

Her mouth dropped open, then closed, then dropped again. "I… What in the gods' abominable name is wrong with you, YOUR MAJESTY!" She emphasized his title.

"I'm serious, Thessara."

Thessara stared at him, then burst out laughing. "Oh, you're serious? You're seriously asking me to stop one of the most primal forces of nature."

"Thessara!" He grumbled, feeling very much awkward and not king-like.

Thessara slowly stopped laughing. "My king, You do realize that your rut is natural and there's nothing in this world that can stop your rut."

"Nothing at all?"

Thessara's brows furrowed. "I don't get it. You're finally with Adina and you both are in the same headspace. You plan on mating her officially soon. So why? Why is the thought of your rut coming sending you into a spiral?" She asked.

"You won't get it," Thorne replied, walking towards the window, eyes settling on the vast space.

"Try me," Thessara replied, behind her, the door creaked slightly and Callum stepped in, mouthing a greeting to Thessara.

"Adina is… Adina is fragile," Thorne began. Caelum and Thessara shared a look.

Thorne exhaled, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "My ruts are always aggressive and look, it's been over a decade since my last one. It's going to be aggressive and violent.

Thessara folded her arms, eyes softening slightly. "Violent toward her?"

"No. Never toward her. But I won't be able to control myself. Not the way I want to. My instincts take over. I'll want to mark her over and over. Mate her until her scent is buried into every cell of me. Until she's shaking and trembling and begging—"

Caelum quickly coughed, his face red, eyes darting about awkwardly.

Thorne paused what he was saying and shook his head.

"Are you saying she won't be able to handle it?" She asked.

"I think I've pushed her enough. I've taken so much from her already. The enchantment. The dungeon. The chaos. She deserves peace. She deserves a partner who won't—" he cut himself off, voice low— "be so violent."

He shook his head as though he were getting rid of his thoughts. "Can you cook up something to stop my rut, Thessara. That's all."

Thessara stared at him for some seconds then shook her head. "I'm afraid not, your majesty. This is nature's call. There's nothing I can do."

Caelum stepped forward, ears still pink. "If I may, your majesty. I think you're giving Adina a little less grace. She's your mate for a reason….and if she could stay with you through your denial stage….then she can survive this." He said.

"Also, I'm sure she's noticed that something is off with you. You've been moodier, angrier. Your wolf is practically glued to her side. Hell, even the warriors are talking."

At this Thorne frowned. "The warriors?"

"They said you promised to gouge out a guard's eyes if he stared at Adina for a second longer."

Thorne hummed, nodding casually. "That's right. He wouldn't stop staring." He replied, "What a fool." He muttered under his breath.

Thessara and Caelum shared another look.

"Anyways, Thessara. Do something. Chant some more words or perhaps find some herbs. But do something and stop my rut."

Thessara sighed like a mother whose child had asked if sleep was really necessary. "I can't. This is beyond me, Thorne. This is nature. You can't run from it."

Thorne ran a hand over his face. "I just don't want to hurt her."

Thessara sighed, softer this time. "Then tell her the truth. You can't bottle this up, it's your rut, not a cold. Tell the one person who actually matters. Not us."

Thessara gave him a look seeing as she didn't reply, "If you don't, and you so much as break that girl's heart by shutting her out again, I will personally brew something to make you break out in hives."

Thorne raised his brow. "Threatening your king, Thessara?"

"Gods, Thorne, please….Tell Adina. Judging by what I know, that girl will not contest it even if you wanted to turn her inside out."

"Fine."

Thessara stared at him expectantly.

"I'll tell her. It's not like I can hide it anyways."

She smiled, "That's the spirit."

Soon Caelum and Thessara were out the door, leaving Thorne to his thoughts.

His rut was coming in less than three days, and the only one who could truly help him through it… was waiting for him.

____________

The first thing Adina noticed was his scent. It was stronger, way stronger than ever. It made her knees weaken, her mouth water.

She turned around to see him standing by the door, already watching her with dark eyes.

"My king." She whispered, and somehow his eyes darkened.

Adina squeezed her thighs together, something she couldn't identify buzzing beneath her skin. She licked her lips and stood up.

"Were you waiting for me?" Thorne asked, and she nodded, walking closer to him, but instead he held his arm out, stopping her.

"Don't."

Adina's face fell, eyes searching his like she'd missed something. "What? Why? What's wrong?"

Thorne's jaw flexed as he looked away, his fists clenched at his sides like he was barely holding himself together.

"I shouldn't touch you right now," he said, his voice rough. "I'm… not exactly myself."

Her brows furrowed, concern flashing through her features. "Is it the spell? Is something wrong with it?"

"No. Not that."

Adina stepped closer, carefully slipping her hand into his. "Then talk to me."

Thorne looked down at their joined hands, then at her. His eyes were stormy and heated. She could feel his energy, the buzzing beneath her skin felt much more alive and intense. A shudder ran down her spine for no reason.

"My rut is coming," he said quietly. "In three days. Maybe sooner."

Adina blinked. "Your… rut?"

He nodded slowly. "It's why I've been—more aggressive. More territorial."

Now, that made sense.

"You don't want to share your rut with me?" She asked quietly. It wouldn't be the first time. She never shared Roman's rut either. He spent it with Catherine instead. But Thorne wasn't Roman.

"Adina…" Thorne trailed off, his voice rough with the war he was fighting inside himself. "I don't want to hurt you. My rut is… violent. It's aggressive and raw. I'll want to fuck you over and over until you can't walk. I'll mark you again and again. I'll fuck you till you cry. And I—I can't ask that of you."

Adina stared at him, wide-eyed, heat crawling up her neck. "You think I wouldn't want that?"

"You wouldn't if you understood what it entails. My rut isn't going to be normal. This is my first rut in over a decade. My senses will be all over the place. I won't be able to think rationally. Adina, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." Adina cut in quickly. "I-if you want me for your rut then I want it." She peered up at him, "I trust you, rut or not. You won't hurt me."

Thorne's hand trembled as it rose, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, his eyes locking on hers like she was the only tether to his sanity.

"You don't understand, Adina," he rasped. "It won't be soft. It won't be gentle. I won't stop, not until my body, my wolf, my lycan are all convinced you belong to me. I'll ruin you."

She stepped forward, her chest brushing his. "Then ruin me."