He doesn’t meet my gaze, his shoulders tense and braced for the worst.
“I don’t want to leave you.” My voice is firm despite the emotion I reveal, the tears clogging my throat. I exhale, and the truth of my words settles over me like a calming wave. “You’re mine, Solan.” Steel slithers into my tone, pushing away the swell of tears. “Whether it’s fate or whatever the hell brought us together, I’m not walking away.”
His eyes snap to mine, wide with something I can’t quite place—maybe relief, disbelief, hope all tangled together. His hair flares slightly, a flicker of life returning to it.
“Mine,” I repeat, softer this time. “I don’t have all the answers. But I’m not going anywhere.”
Solan exhales sharply as if he’s been holding his breath, but the tension in his frame doesn’t fully ease. “You say this now,” he murmurs, his voice still tinged with doubt. I want to smack myself in the nuts for causing this doubt. “But you still question. Still hesitate,” he adds.
“Of course I do,” I say, my honesty cutting through the crackling air between us. “This is big, Solan. Huge. But it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I don’t want to leave you. I want to figure this out, seal the deal, as it were. I’m all in.”
His expression softens, the fire in his wide gaze flickering back to life. “All in,” he echoes as if testing the words. He steps closer, and I drag in air, my relief immediate. His toweringframe fills my vision, a comforting presence, overwhelming in the best way possible. “You are certain?”
“I’m certain,” I say, the steel in my voice returning. I reach for him and press a steady hand on his chest. “But I also want answers. About the merges, the rifts… everything. I can’t argue with fate, but if fate has a hand in this, it has to work both ways. If Jamie’s meant to stay, then fine. If he’s meant to go home, then we need to find a way to make it happen.”
Solan’s lips press into a thoughtful line, but there’s a flicker of understanding in his gaze. “You would trust fate?”
“Do I have a choice?” I shrug, a small wry smile tugging at my lips. “If this whole bond thing is fate, then yeah. I’m not about to argue with it. But it doesn’t mean we can’t try to figure things out along the way.”
He studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “You are… unpredictable,” he says, his voice lighter now, almost teasing. “I think I like that.”
“You’d better,” I shoot back, the tension easing between us.
His hair reaches towards me again, tentative but hopeful. I let out a shaky breath, feeling a small surge of warmth in my chest. I don’t have all the answers—not about Jamie, not regarding this bond, not for what the hell comes next. But standing here, with Solan’s fire brushing against my skin and his eyes locked on mine, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
I ask, my voice quiet, “What age can someone become… bonded?”
“In my world,” Solan says, his tone cautious, “it is… adulthood. For humans… I do not know. It is something you must… learn.”
I nod, my mind already churning with the implications. Jamie is young, but since bonding is a possibility for humans, it’s a danger I can’t ignore. It also means we have time. It doesn’thave to be worked out today, tomorrow, or even a year from now.
The knock comes again, sharp and impatient. Solan steps towards the door, his hair still flickering with residual agitation.
“Come,” he says, his voice tense but steady. “We must go.”
I follow him reluctantly, the weight of everything we’ve discussed pressing down on me. There’s no denying it anymore—this bond, this power, thisworld—it’s more than I ever bargained for. And somehow, I have to find a way to navigate it without losing myself—or the people I care about—in the process.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
The buildingthey’ve given us isn’t human-made, that much is obvious. The walls have a seamless, almost-organic quality to them, curving in places where sharp angles should have been. The ceiling arches slightly, faintly glowing veins running through the material like bioluminescent threads that cast a warm golden hue over the rooms. There are two small sleeping quarters and a main living space where Calythra has unrolled a mat, clearly intending to sleep there.
The structure is nestled among other similar ones only a short distance from the bowling alley the rebel leader’s claimed as headquarters. Solan and I agreed—tentatively—to support the cause, or at least to take the refuge they’ve offered for the time being. Varek’s made it clear there will be terms, but tomorrow, we’ll talk shit out and figure out what exactly those are going to be.
For now, the focus is on rest. Or at least, that’s been the idea.
Jamie has finally started to slow down, though it has taken some effort. Calythra’s knack for engaging him, distracting him while making him feel seen, is impressive. My trust in him is growing even if I still don’t understand what his intention is. But he’s kept my nephew alive and safe, and now he’s practically asecond shadow, promising to keep an eye on everything as he settles into the living space.
I catch Jamie faltering. A quick swallow, a sudden glassiness in his eyes, and then he physically shakes it off, diving back into a game with Calythra. He’s trying so damn hard to hold it together, and I hate it. I hate that he feels like he has to.
But as his yawns grow more frequent, I’m selfishly relieved. Tonight won’t be the night reality hits him. If it does, I’ll be here—with hugs, with quiet reassurances, with whatever he needs. But for now, I just need to get him to bed.
“Come on, mate,” I say, nudging him towards the sleeping quarters. “You’re about two yawns away from falling over.”
“I’m not tired,” he argues, but the words are punctuated by yet another yawn.
“Right,” I say, grinning. “And I’m not your uncle.”
