Chapter 215: Dream home
The early morning air was crisp and cool, carrying the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant calls of birds welcoming the day. The secluded cabin, nestled deep within the heart of an untouched forest, stood as a quiet sanctuary, untouched by the burdens of the outside world. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting golden flecks onto the wooden porch, where a tender scene unfolded.
Noelle stood in the small kitchen, the oversized white shirt draped over his slender frame belonging to Thorne. The fabric hung loosely on him, brushing against his bare thighs as he poured himself a glass of water. He lifted it to his lips, savoring the coolness as he took slow sips, trying to shake off the strange restlessness humming beneath his skin.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. It wasn’t his heat, nor was it Thorne’s rut, but something in the air felt different. A shift. A pull. A longing. He had woken up before dawn, too restless to sleep, his thoughts drifting to their old home on the hill. The memory clung to him, warm and bittersweet.
I want that again. I want another home like that. A place that’s truly ours.
The thought curled around his heart, soft and unshakable.
Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him into the solid warmth of a familiar embrace. Noelle melted into the touch without hesitation, his body instinctively recognizing its mate. He felt a gentle press of lips against his nape, soft kisses trailing along his skin. Thorne exhaled deeply, inhaling his scent as if grounding himself in it.
"You’re up early," Noelle murmured, leaning back into him, feeling safe.
"I could feel you tossing and turning," Thorne responded, his voice rough from sleep. "What’s on your mind, my beloved star?"
Noelle didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned in Thorne’s arms, wrapping his arms around his husband’s neck, seeking warmth.
On rare occasions like this, he allowed himself to be babied, and Thorne, ever the willing enabler, indulged him.
With effortless strength, Thorne lifted him into his arms, and Noelle instinctively wrapped his legs around his waist. He let himself be carried, nuzzling into the crook of Thorne’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his mate. The scent of home.