Page 37 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)

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I wake the next morning with a start, the hazy remnants of my dreams refusing to leave me alone. Flashes of conversation—with Lyn, Davina, Riley, Thalara—blur together like a slideshow of all the mistakes I’ve made, all the ways I’ve slipped up. My chest feels tight, pulse racing.

It wasn’t just a dream. Or, it was, but it was too organized. It felt…intrusive, like someone was there.

Watching, sifting through my memories.

My gut twists as realization dawns.

Thorne.

I throw off the covers and head to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The sensation jolts me, clearing my mind enough to confirm what I already know: he’s been in my head. The bond is faint but undeniable, and I can feel him somewhere in the depths of the Obscuary, likely oblivious to the boundary he’s crossed.

Or maybe not. Maybe he knows exactly what he’s done.

We’ve tried to establish rules around when we can creep into each other’s minds—how to extend an invitation, cues to show we’ve accepted. From the beginning, Thorne has been respectful of my boundaries.

So why now?

Why doesn’t he trust me?

I don’t waste time trying to reason with myself or justify his actions; even my powers seem to be irritated when I head for the door, my coat zipping toward my hand before I can reach it. Then I’m out the door, heading to the Obscuary.

I’ve been inside the Obscuary, but haven’t been to Thorne’s alcove in two days…and even though I’m angry at Thorne, I can’t deny the excitement I feel at seeing him again, touching him, being with him. His mind touches mine, questioning, but it reminds me of that strange feeling I got when I woke up, like someone was in my house, sifting through my things.

I kick him out of my head, accidentally rolling a ladder along a bookshelf without touching it.

Oops .

Thorne keeps reaching out; I keep rejecting the contact. By the time I slide open the bookcase and step into his alcove, I’m practically seething. Thorne is in his chair, writing in his notebook, but he sets it aside as soon as I come in.

“Page,” he says, standing. “I was?—”

I cross the room in a few quick strides, getting nose to nose with him. “What were you doing in my head last night?”

Thorne’s frown is grim, guilty…but I can see him working it out in his head. And oddly enough, he’s open to me, and I can sense how hard he’s trying to find justification.

“I was worried about you,” he murmurs.

“You were worried,” I snap. “So instead of…I don’t know, asking me , you decided to just dig through my memories while I was asleep?”

He stands, towering over me, but I refuse to back down. “ It wasn’t like that,” he says. “I didn’t go looking for anything. Your thoughts were practically screaming through the bond, even louder than you ever were at the beginning.”

“That’s not an excuse! Back then, you slipped in sometimes on accident, and you still tried to respect my privacy. But now…you just sneak in when you have questions? Don’t you trust me?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment I think he’s going to argue. But then his shoulders slump and he lets out a heavy sigh. “You’re right,” he murmurs. “I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

The sincerity in his voice throws me for a loop. I cross my arms and glare. “Why? Why would you do it?”

He huffs, and I can sense a sarcastic barb coming my way—the defense he always deploys when he’s uncomfortable—but then he exhales, shoulders slumping.

“Because I’m terrified for you,” he admits.

The admission dissolves my anger, though I try to hold onto it. I want him to feel how much his mistrust hurt me…but the fire in my chest flickers.

I shake my head, struggling to hold his gaze. “Thorne…”

“I saw you much you’re risking for me—your friendships, your career, your future,” he continues. “You’ve sacrificed so much already, and it’s too much, Page. I can’t let you destroy your life for me.”

“I thought we’d been over this?—”

“No,” he says, his voice sharp with frustration. “I have to understand, Page. Why are you so intent on saving me when I’m not worth saving?”

For a moment, I freeze. Because…no, no . Fuck this. We keep having the same conversation, going in fucking circles.

“Don’t you dare ,” I hiss, stepping closer. “Don’t you dare try to push me away because you think you’re unworthy. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I don’t need your permission to fight for you.”

His eyes darken, jaw tense. He searches my eyes like he’s looking for the lie, and I feel him push up against my thoughts again only for me to shove him out.

That seems to make him even angrier.

“You say that you’re fighting for me, that you know what you’re doing,” he snaps, “but we’ve already had to be apart for two days because of this danger.”

The pivot is swift and shocking. From playing the long-suffering martyr…to complaining that we’ve had to be apart.

And suddenly, I see it.

“Oh my God,” I murmur. “You were jealous .”

Thorne flinches as though I’ve struck him. His eyes narrow, his mouth pressing into a tight line. “That’s ridiculous.”

I let out an incredulous laugh. “No, no, no…you’re not going to act like you’re not a man right now. We both know you get horny, you get annoyed, and now…you get jealous. You’re not this like…magnanimous, unfeeling god. You’re just a man, and you were jealous.”

He scowls at me. “You are… infuriating .”

I smirk, more than a little victorious. I shouldn’t be smiling—not when I was so furious with him seconds ago—but there’s something about this. About him.

The ancient, cool-headed, infinitely wise Thorne Valtheris, undone by something so…human. He’s jealous. He can’t stand the thought of anyone else being closer to me than he is, because he wants me that badly .

My whole body heats up, pulse soaring.

In no world should I be turned on by this…but I am.

“What are you smiling about?” he demands. “I thought we were fighting.”

He’s infuriating. Reckless. Absolutely maddening .

And I love him for it.

So I smirk, biting my lip and letting out a short laugh. “You’re jealous,” I say, tilting my head in a challenge. “So do something about it.”

He glares at me. “Like what?”

I keep my mind closed to him, even as he searches for an answer. “Guess.”

He inhales sharply, his eyes graze down my body…

…then he closes the distance between us in one big step and claims me.

I practically launch myself at him, all the pent-up frustration translating into tearing off clothes and nipping at his earlobe, the hinge of his jaw. He’s just as eager, gripping my hips and pulling me against him like he’s been waiting for this moment as much as I have. The tension snaps between us, no holding back; his hands are everywhere—my waist, my back, sliding under my shirt and skimming my lower ribs. I tug off his shirt, desperate to feel him, to close the unbearable distance that made two days feel like a lifetime as he tugs me backward towards his bedroom.

“Fine,” he snarls against my lips. We stumble past the curtain, into our bed. He trips over a pillow and falls on his ass, pulling me down with him—but he doesn’t care, still kissing me. “I was jealous. I see other people with you, and I can’t stand that they’re in your presence and I’m not.”

I straddle him, yanking off my shirt and then scrambling with my bra. I grind against his hard cock, leaning down to kiss him again. “You don’t control me, Thorne.”

“I know,” he growls, “and it drives me crazy.”

I maneuver to take off my jeans, kicking them off in the blankets. Thorne is undoing his pants, snatching kisses from my lips, groaning when I wrap my fingers around his shaft?—

He flips us so I’m facedown to the blankets, his hand tangling in my hair. He broadcasts his thoughts into my head— memories of me teasing and telling him to pull my hair and call me a good girl, a desire to bend me over and…

He wraps his free arm around my waist and pulls me up to my hands and knees.

“You’re mine, Page,” he rumbles, his cock sliding through my wet folds. “You belong to me . No one has ever fucked you like I do. And I know…because I’ve been in your head.”

I’m trembling in anticipation, my fingers curling in the blankets. Thorne keeps teasing, taunting me.

“Well?” I jerk my head back, making him tug even harder on my hair as I look at him. I can just barely see him out of the corner of my eye, muscles tensed as he grips my hair with one hand, my hip with the other. “Are you going to prove it?”

“Depends,” he says, smirking. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

I bite my lip, feeling my body heat up and a flush spread across my cheeks. I didn’t come here for this…I came here to tell him he fucked up.

But I can reiterate that after I’ve lived out this particular fantasy.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I’ll be your good girl.”

Thorne growls, eyes dark. “Then take what you want, Page.”

It takes me a second to get his meaning, and then I realize he’s going to make me do it. He wants me to take his cock, slow and needy.

So I lean back, feeling the head of his cock slip past my entrance, impaling myself on him. Fuck, he’s dirty—he wants me to use him, to take him…to be his good girl. I grit my teeth as each ridge goes in.

One…I take a gasping breath.

Two…another, I’m moaning.

Three …

“Oh God,” I gasp, all three ridges inside me now, pressing on the best, most pleasurable places.

Thorne hums appreciatively. “Now my knot,” he murmurs, tugging on my hair. “Take it, Page.”

I bury my face in the blankets. “Fuck, Thorne…you’re too big…”

He yanks my hair hard, upwards now, and I let out a gasp of shock as he pulls me against his chest, his cock still buried inside me. The force of gravity makes me slide down his cock, taking him fully. His knot breaches my entrance, stretching me, invading every sense…

“Thorne,” I gasp.

“Take it, Patience,” he purrs. “You can do it.”

He thrusts the rest of the way inside, every inch a new delicious ache…then my ass is against his hips, his lips at my throat. I groan, feeling so full and so fucking turned on.

“That’s my good girl,” he strokes my hair, breathing against my cheek as he stretches me. His free hand goes to my breast, playing with my nipple as he pulls my hair. “Now…now I’m going to fuck you, Page.”

“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, yes…”

He starts to move his hips, thrusting toward me and back. His knot has him trapped inside me, but the drag, the sensation of my pussy sucking him deeper…

“I’m sorry,” he’s whispering, his words fragmented. He’s out of character, apologizing now , even though I am very much over it. “I didn’t…I don’t mean to…”

“Shut up and fuck me,” I snap.

He pushes me back down on all fours and then he’s fucking me hard—hands jerking my hips, moving me, hips pistoning. His mind whirls into mine, wrapping me up in threads of silver, binding me to him. One hand glides down my spine and I arch, crying out.

“Harder!” I demand .

He seizes on my command, his hips pounding into me harder and faster. His hands grip my hips tighter, bruising the skin beneath his fingertips. I feel like I’m going to explode.

“You feel that?” he snarls. “It feels so good because you are mine . You always will be. My good… fucking …girl.”

I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to come. I scream his name, my pussy tightening around his cock. I gasp for air, scrabbling at the blankets.

“Yes, Thorne,” I chant. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours…”

“That’s it,” he growls, moving faster and faster. “Come for me, beloved.”

My climax tears through me, my body shuddering around Thorne. He’s right there with me, pulling me back onto his cock, slowing and gasping. I roll through the spasms that follow, unable to break away—not that I want to.

His hands slide up my spine, gently pulling me into his chest. He tilts my chin up to kiss him, and I have to crane my neck to meet him, slanting his mouth against mine.

When he pulls away, he gazes into my eyes, keeping my head turned.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I was jealous. I won’t intrude on your dreams again.”

I reach up to trail my fingers down his cheek. “You won’t have to worry about me when you’re sleeping in my bed every night,” I whisper. “Just…trust me. Please.”

“I do,” he murmurs.

“Then why did you?—”

“Because I missed you,” he starts. His hips move instinctively. I bite my lip and moan under my breath. “Because I was jealous.” He leans in closer. “Because I’m yours, Patience McRae.”

We stay like that for a while, kneeling in the blankets with him slowly fucking me into another orgasm. The bond between us hums and crackles, flickering along our tangled limbs like an electric current. Eventually, Thorne pulls out and lays me down in the blankets, holding me tight.

I rest my head against his chest, the steady thrum of his heart grounding me as I let my breathing slow. Maybe I’m crazy…but I think it’s beating faster lately, his skin warmer…

“You’re not crazy,” he murmurs into my hair. “It’s you. We…there’s something special between us. It’s bringing me back to life.”

I look up at him, finding his dark eyes on me.

“How?” I ask.

He brushes my hair back. “Get some sleep,” he murmurs. “We’ll talk about it when you wake up.”

And I guess I need the rest…because I fall asleep right away.