“I also felt something else in there,” I add, a little quieter now. “Like you were ashamed.”
He doesn’t answer immediately. He steps in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You were the only human who didn’t have a bond. I did that to you. For two years, I left you alone, because my duty to the prince came first.”
“But you felt me,” I say, hearing the raw edge of emotion in my own voice. “The second I arrived.”
We’ve been over this more than once, and I hope one day it all becomes a distant hurt. Hell, not even that. Not even a small blip in our memories. I’m all for focussing on the future, which actually surprises me even as I think it. As let’s be honest, sincebeing in Terrafeara, I’ve been living in the moment, grateful when I wake up in the morning.
My expectations have been pretty low.
He nods, grief flashing through his luminous eyes. “I felt you. And I turned away.”
It doesn’t hurt the way it used to. Not now, not after everything. But it still aches.
I wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest. “It doesn’t matter now. You’re here.We’rehere.”
His arms come around me, firm and sure. “I won’t let anything pull you from me again,” he says.
Jack’s words about finding a way home flitter in the corner of my mind. I shut it down. That discussion will only lead to more hurt and uncertainty. I want neither in my life.
We stand like that for a long minute. Just the two of us, in this weird in-between place—caught between questions and conspiracy, the past and whatever the hell’s coming. Eventually, I pull back and smile, just a little. “I didn’t know I could feel someone this deeply. Even without words.”
He brushes his thumb under my jaw. “It’s more than bond. It’s you.”
Goddamn him and his Glowranth poetry. Who’d have thought a badass royal guard would have it in him?
And goddamn me for already being half in love.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
The corridorsto the western wing are quieter than I expected. Kael walks beside me, his stride purposeful. I don’t need the bond to feel how reluctant he is to leave me again. It flows from him in waves. Still, he says nothing, his lips pressed in a thin line, jaw set like stone. That Glowranth soldier control on full display.
I almost hate how hot it makes him.
Almost.
The closer we get, the more tension coils in my gut. I can already feel the weight of it pressing through the walls of the facility. The heavy pulse of grief. Hope. Determination.
And fear.
Kael opens the door first. The medical bay is dimly lit, shadows playing along the far wall where Iris crouches beside the bed. Dawson hasn’t moved. Still pale. Still far too still. If not for the slight rise and fall of his chest, I might have thought we were too late.
Prince Aelith sits in a chair, unmoving, regal despite the exhaustion carved into his face. His luminous eyes are duller now, the once-fierce glow softened to something hollow. Hedoesn’t look at us. Kael immediately steps closer to his prince, then pauses.
Iris looks up, offers me a nod. “Good to see you.”
I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “How is he?”
“Stable,” she says. “For now. But Aelith’s not helping his own case. He keeps trying to give more. I had to sedate him again this morning.”
I glance at Kael, who doesn’t flinch. Of course he already knows. I suspect he was the one who gave permission.
“You should rest,” Kael says quietly to the prince, but Aelith doesn’t respond.
The room buzzes with unspoken things. What’s happening to Dawson. What it might mean. What Kael told me in confidence just yesterday.
Iris rises, brushing her hands on her trousers. “Dawson had another seizure early this morning. Brief, but intense. I managed to stabilise him, but we’re running out of time.”
