Chapter 174: Yours
Noelle leaned further into Thorne, the warmth of the water a soothing contrast to the storm of emotions churning within him. His eyes remained closed as he spoke, his voice trembling slightly with vulnerability. "I don’t even know how I fell in love with you," he admitted, a bittersweet smile curving his lips.
"When I came to that hill, all I wanted was a family of my own. After losing my mum... and with no alphas left in the village, you were my only chance. My only hope for something more. Someone I could call mine. A place to belong."
Thorne stilled behind him, his grip tightening around Noelle’s hand as the words sank in.
"When I first found you," Noelle continued, his voice soft and tinged with sadness, "you were barely more than a bag of bones. Dying, poisoned, and clinging to life by sheer stubbornness. You were so cold, so distant, but you were my husband, and I’d made a promise—to you and to myself. I nursed you back to health because it was the only thing I could do, the only thing I knew how to do. But somewhere along the way..."
Noelle’s voice faltered, and he opened his eyes, staring at the rippling surface of the water as if it held the answers to the emotions overwhelming him. "Somewhere along the way, I realized I’d fallen in love with you. Not because you were my husband, not because I had no other choice, but because you were you. You became everything to me. It wasn’t sudden. You just... snuck in and took over. Like you always belonged there, in my heart."
A soft, self-deprecating laugh escaped him as he shook his head. "It was so odd, loving you. And yet, it felt so right."
Thorne exhaled a shaky breath, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Noelle’s head. His touch was gentle, his voice steady but filled with an intensity that sent shivers down Noelle’s spine.
"Then I owe my thanks to the Crown Prince of Aspen," Thorne said, his words laced with bitter irony. "For his treachery. For scheming to have you framed for my death. Because without that cruel twist of fate, you would’ve never come to me."
Thorne’s fingers, which had been idly playing with Noelle’s hair, stilled. Slowly, he intertwined them with Noelle’s, their joined hands resting on Noelle’s chest. The gesture was intimate, grounding, a silent acknowledgment of everything they had endured to reach this moment.