CHAPTER 196: BETWEEN FIRE AND FLOWERS

Josie

Thorne’s voice still echoed in my head long after everything around me went silent. It wasn’t just a whisper anymore—it was something deeper, heavier, like the kind of sound that fills your chest and steals your breath away. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt something stir inside me. Hope. But it was faint—fragile, like smoke trying to take shape.

Then, in a blink, everything changed.

The air shifted. My surroundings blurred into white nothingness. The heat, the pain, even the sound of my heartbeat—all of it faded until I felt weightless. When I turned around, there was no bed, no room, no voices. Just a wide, endless field of mist and light. I couldn’t tell where the ground ended or the sky began.

A tap on my shoulder made me spin so fast I almost lost balance.

And then—I froze.

"Thorne?" I whispered.

He was standing right there, a few feet away from me, dressed in the same dark clothes he always wore, though they looked worn now, torn at the edges. His hair fell across his forehead, his expression soft but tired. So, so tired.

For a moment, I just stared, afraid that if I blinked, he’d vanish. But he didn’t. He smiled faintly, that lopsided grin that had always made my chest ache in ways I didn’t understand.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said quietly. His voice trembled, as if it carried the weight of a hundred unspoken things.

My heart twisted. "You’re the one who called me."

He shook his head. "I didn’t call you, Josie. You pulled me here. You always do."

I frowned, taking a step toward him. The mist rippled beneath my feet, spreading light where I walked. "Then why do you look at me like that?"

"Because I’m weak," he said, lowering his gaze. "And I don’t want to fight anymore."

The words hit me like a blade to the gut.

"What do you mean you don’t want to fight?" My voice cracked. "You can’t say that, Thorne. Not now."

He smiled sadly, the corners of his lips trembling. "I’ve been fighting all my life. Every battle took a piece of me. And I think I finally ran out of pieces to give."

"No," I said sharply, shaking my head. "No, you don’t get to talk like that. Not when I’m standing right here."

He lifted his eyes to mine, and for the first time, I saw it—the exhaustion behind the amber glow, the shadows carved into him by years of pain.

"I just want peace," he said softly. "You deserve to be happy—with Kiel, with Varen. Don’t waste what’s left of your heart on me."

"Stop," I snapped, stepping closer until we were inches apart. "Don’t you dare do this."

He blinked, confused. "Josie—"

"Don’t you dare try to leave me." My hands were shaking, my voice trembling, but I didn’t care. "You are one of the most stubborn men I’ve ever met. You fought wars that weren’t yours to fight. You protected people who didn’t deserve it. You’ve survived things that should’ve broken you a hundred times over—and now you’re telling me you want to give up?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes glistening. "I’ve lost too much already."

"And you’ll lose me if you stop fighting." My words came out like a plea, desperate and raw. "You think I’ll be happy knowing you gave up? You think Kiel or Varen will? You think your brothers want to live in a world where you’re gone?"

He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve already failed them."

"No, you haven’t." My vision blurred with tears. "You’re a part of them, Thorne. Just like they’re a part of you. You don’t get to give up because you’re tired. You fight because they need you. Because I need you."

His hand trembled as he reached up to touch my face. "You always say the right thing to make me hate myself less."

"Then hate me," I said through tears. "Hate me if you must. But don’t leave me."

He stared at me for a long moment—long enough that I felt time itself holding its breath. Then, slowly, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against mine.

"You shouldn’t have come here," he murmured, voice breaking. "It’ll hurt when you go back."

"Then let it hurt," I whispered.

He hesitated, eyes flicking down to my lips, and before I could say anything else, his mouth was on mine. The kiss wasn’t wild or desperate—it was soft, full of all the things we’d never said. His lips were warm but faint, like he wasn’t entirely real. My tears mixed with the kiss, falling between us as the world around us began to shift again, light flickering through the mist like fireflies.

When we broke apart, I cupped his face with trembling hands. "What energy will you use to hate me if you’re lifeless?" I whispered. "You said it yourself—you’re stubborn. So fight, Thorne. For them. For me."

He blinked, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. "You never give up, do you?"

"Not on you," I breathed.

The mist began to shimmer. He looked up, as if seeing something I couldn’t. "Josie," he said softly, "wake up."

"Not until you promise to come with me."

"I can’t—"

"Yes, you can!" I shouted, gripping his shirt. "You can and you will. You’re not staying here. You hear me?"

He hesitated. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Alright."

The world tilted, the light consuming everything. His voice echoed one last time—soft, warm, and filled with something like peace.

I’ll try.

I gasped awake, air burning through my lungs as if I’d been drowning. My body convulsed, and I felt strong hands gripping me.

"Josie—hey! Josie!"

Kiel’s voice. He was right beside me, his tone frantic, his face ghost-pale. "Please, open your eyes. Josie, come on, don’t do this—"

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the light. Everything was spinning. My throat was dry. My body felt heavy, drained.

Kiel let out a sharp breath, relief flooding his face. "Thank the gods..."

"Thorne," I rasped.

Kiel froze. "What?"

"Bring me... more plants." My voice shook, but I forced the words out. "The others—they’ve withered. I need fresh ones. Hurry."

"Josie, you shouldn’t move," he said, panic edging his tone.

"Please," I whispered. "Just do it."

He hesitated, then nodded quickly and turned to yell for Varen. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I turned to where Thorne lay. He was still, too still, his skin pale as frost.

"Thorne," I whispered, tears spilling freely now. "You promised me. Don’t you dare break it."

Varen burst into the room moments later, carrying an armful of fresh flowers—roses, lilies, even wild blossoms from the outer fields. He dropped them beside me without a word.

I grabbed his hands before he could pull away. "Stay with me," I begged.

He nodded silently.

Kiel knelt beside me, worry etched into every line of his face. "Josie, are you sure about this? You’re shaking."

"I don’t have time to be sure," I said, my voice breaking. "Just... stay close."

I pressed my palms together and whispered to the plants. The air shimmered faintly. The petals began to glow, their colors deepening, light pulsing softly from within them.

"Come to me," I murmured through tears. "Please, just this once."

Varen’s grip tightened around my wrist, grounding me. Kiel shifted uneasily, muttering something under his breath. Then, out of nowhere, he started humming—a low tune, barely audible.

I turned sharply and glared at him. "Don’t."

He froze mid-note. "Right. No singing."

My body trembled violently, the energy coursing through me like waves. I could feel the flowers responding, their life force twining with mine, feeding the flicker of power still burning inside me.

Light spilled across Thorne’s body. His fingers twitched.

"Come on," I whispered. "Please..."

A moment later, a weak cough broke the silence.

Every head snapped toward him.

Kiel gasped. Varen cursed under his breath. I didn’t move—I couldn’t. My whole body went still, afraid that if I did, it would all disappear.

Then Thorne’s chest rose, his breath shallow but real.

My tears came faster now, falling in heavy drops as I leaned over him. He opened his eyes slowly—unfocused at first, then clear enough to find me.

"You’re here," he whispered hoarsely.

I let out a strangled laugh. "You made me a promise."

His lips twitched in the faintest smile. "Guess I did."

Before I could speak again, he reached up weakly and pulled me into him. I collapsed against his chest, sobbing quietly as he wrapped his arms—trembling but firm—around me.

The flowers around us glowed brighter, filling the room with light and the scent of life.

And for the first time in days, I felt something I hadn’t dared to hope for—peace.