Thorne’s POV
Aurora whimpers and cries in my arms, the scent of fear overwhelming my senses as I carry her back to our room. Every time I shift her in my arms, she startles. She hasn’t looked up at me, keeping her face firmly planted in my chest.
“You’re safe,” I whisper, rubbing my cheek on the top of her head. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
I repeat the mantra over and over, tightening my hold on her as I walk. I need the contact and holding her and pressing my cheek to her hair is helping calm my agitated wolf and me. Watching her fall like that took years off my life, and the only thing keeping me from shifting is the fact that she’s in my arms.
Her cries have become quieter, a big difference from the desperate and broken cries from just a few minutes ago. She was freaking out but
