Half his lip quirked into a grin as he held a hand out towards you. “Come now,” Thorne hummed. “Are you still upset with me? I meant no harm.”

Which was half a lie. He liked when you were jealous, so he played up his charm when admirers graced him with admiration. “My love, my heart, my reason to breathe, you are the only one I want.”

He lacked a true wandering eye, any need to be with another when he had you. Part of you, one he would not lose. Had Thorne a choice, every part of you would be his. You’d spend your mornings with him, not fleeting moments in the dark as though he was some ill-born secret.

But you were married to another, so Thorne took what was offered.

Faeris—your spouse—was the esteemed royal family’s tutor. An elf held in high regard that you, evidently, did not love. Faeris held no affection for you either, it seemed, for you never mentioned them wanting you to stay home. Thorne had never met Faeris, but they were no fool. They must’ve suspected what secrets you kept. Why else would you sneak out to every dirty tavern Thorne happened to be performing at?

Thorne thought Faeris must be sharing the same secret. Though he did not share this with you. Thorne hardly shared any of his innermost notions with another soul, you included. For all his love for you, he still protected himself.

A cowardly move for a man meant to be your lover. Thorne had grown up the youngest of fourteen children, the only one who watched him was himself. He was not saved when the war against humans came and Thorne was dragged into it, when he thought he’d gained comrades he was capable of trusting, when he spared a human’s life just to have his throat cut in return. Thorne had grown cold and callous on the inside. A wound that never healed, rotted at him. Would you notice it eventually, he wondered. Turn and run back toward your other life where he could not follow?

“A dance in exchange for a smile,” he said instead of everything else. Because Thorne had mastered the ability to hide behind a perfectly crafted mask. After half his face was paralyzed, it’d become even simpler. He hardly had to try.

Thorne tipped his head closer to yours. He wanted a kiss, but he knew to watch for your mood before he leaned in completely.