CHAPTER 109: FIRE IN HER EYES

Thorne

The rage was a living, breathing thing inside me. It curled hot and sharp in my chest, clawing at my ribs like it wanted out. My hands flexed at my sides, and the bones in my knuckles cracked from the tension. Somehow, I kept my composure. Barely.

My brothers’ voices grated in my ears—demanding, pressing Josie for an explanation. I could hear them as clearly as if they were right in my head. Hell, with the way my pulse was pounding, they might as well have been.

"What did you do?" one of them demanded.

From where I stood, I could see her shoulders stiffen. She didn’t cower. She didn’t even look guilty. Instead, her chin lifted, and there it was—that fire in her eyes. Defiance. Unapologetic, burning defiance.

It only stoked the fury twisting in my gut. The kind of fury that made me want to grab her, shake her, make her see sense. But I didn’t. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me lose it completely.

Instead, I turned and walked away.

I didn’t even know why. The bond was messing with me—pulling and twisting my emotions in ways I didn’t understand. I should have been consumed with pure, unfiltered rage, but instead... I was catching flashes of her feelings too. It was like someone had cracked open my chest and let her emotions bleed into me. Fear. Frustration. That stubborn determination she wore like armor.

It was infuriating. One would think I’d marked her already with the way it hit me, but I hadn’t. And the fact that it was happening at all? It made me want to punch a hole in the nearest wall.

So I headed to the one place where I could burn it off. The gym.

The scent of sweat and steel hit me the second I walked in. The rhythmic clang of weights, the low hum of machines, the faint echo of footsteps—familiar. Grounding.

Except the moment I stepped through the door, the atmosphere was anything but calm. Archer and Michelle were on the verge of ripping each other apart, their voices sharp and venom-laced.

I stopped a few paces inside, taking in the scene. Archer’s shoulders were tense, his stance wide, like he was one second away from launching at her. Michelle, in her usual way, looked like she’d rather spit venom than take a step back.

I knew exactly what this was. Archer couldn’t stand her, and neither could I. The only reason she was still anywhere near this pack was because my idiot brothers had been letting their dicks think for them instead of their brains since the day Josie came into the picture. If they’d been smarter, Michelle wouldn’t even be breathing our air right now.

But that wasn’t my problem today. I wasn’t in the mood for her games.

"Get the fuck out," I told her flatly as I walked further in. "I want to train."

Her head snapped toward me, eyes flashing with that fake indignation she always put on like a second skin.

"Why are you so rude to me now?" she shot back, voice dripping with mock hurt. "You used to care about my feelings."

I snorted. "You’re mistaking me for Kiel." My tone was dry enough to strip paint. "He’s the one stupid enough to care. I’m not. And his bad decisions don’t mean I’m about to make any."

Her lips curled, but before she could respond, I turned to Archer. "Walk her out."

She recoiled like I’d suggested something disgusting. "Your lapdog isn’t going to touch me."

The muscles in Archer’s jaw tightened. "Lapdog?" he repeated, his voice low, dangerous. Then he stepped toward her, towering over her despite her stubborn refusal to back up. "Don’t test me, Michelle. You’re a lowlife scum who’s never going to amount to anything. Nobody needs you here. Nobody wants you here."

Her face twisted, but she didn’t have a comeback ready this time.

I hid my smirk as I moved past them, grabbing two dumbbells—fifty pounds each—and curling them in one hand like they weighed nothing. The strain in my biceps barely registered. Yeah, I was built like this for a reason, but today it wasn’t about showing off. It was about keeping my hands busy enough not to put them around someone’s throat.

Still, Archer’s little outburst had been satisfying.

"Thorne!" Michelle’s voice went up an octave, sharp enough to cut glass.

I didn’t even glance her way. "Why exactly do you think I’m going to be part of whatever drama you’re trying to stage right now?"

Her mouth opened, but Archer didn’t give her the chance to answer. His hand closed around her arm—gentler than I would have been, but still firm—and he started hauling her toward the door.

"Let go of me!" she screeched, heels digging into the mat.

I kept curling the weights, watching them out of the corner of my eye. Every rant, every protest from her just made the air feel lighter. When the door finally shut behind them, I exhaled in relief.

Peace.

Or as close to it as I was going to get today.

I powered through my sets in record time, burning through the restless energy coiled in my muscles. My skin was damp, my breathing steady, but the frustration hadn’t left. Not completely. The bond, Josie’s damn stubbornness, Michelle’s screeching—it was all still simmering under my skin.

By the time I left the gym, my cheeks were aching from clenching my jaw so hard. The faint throb pulsed in time with my heartbeat, a reminder of everything I was holding back.

I just wanted to get to my room, slam the door, and have five minutes where no one was breathing down my neck.

But of course, I wasn’t that lucky.

I stepped inside and froze.

Michelle was sitting on my bed.

Not just sitting—perched there like she owned the place, her back straight, legs crossed, eyes narrowed on me in a glare that probably looked scarier in her head than it did in reality.

"It’s about time you showed up," she said, her tone dripping with accusation.

I stared at her for a long moment, the muscles in my temples tightening.

Because right then, all I could think about was how much easier life would be if certain people just disappeared.