“Creepy’s generous,” I mutter. “More like pants-shitting terrifying.”
She snorts. “He likes you.”
I blink. “That was him liking me?”
“Well, he didn’t impale you, so yeah. That’s Hendroy for ‘I tolerate your presence.’”
My skin prickles. “Comforting.”
“You get used to it,” she says, then pauses, tilting her head slightly, studying me. “You okay?”
I open my mouth to say yes. What comes out is “I think something’s… shifting.”
Her brows lift.
“In me,” I clarify. “I’ve been feeling things. Kael. Even from a distance. And now… I don’t know. It’s like something’s… humming. Inside me. Warm, buzzing.”
Understanding floods her expression. “Energy manipulation.”
I nod slowly.
“Transference between bonded mates. It’s a lot, I know. But you’ll get used to it. Obviously, each fated pair is different, but as long as you take it easy and lean on your mate, you’ll be just fine.”
While I appreciate her confidence in me, I’m not so sure. For one, I’m not the most patient guy in the world—Earth or Terrafeara. But I’ve felt… sharper today. More attuned. And yeah, I haven’t flung lightning bolts from my fingers or anything—not that I think Glowranth can actually do that—but I swear I could’ve lit a sconce just by touching it earlier.
“Is it dangerous?” I ask. “For humans,” I clarify.
“No,” she says. “Not unless you try to use whatever skills may have been transferred without understanding them. Kael should train you.”
Right. Kael.
The bond pulses faintly, warm and steady. Even if he hasn’t told the prince yet, I can feel him. And I know he feels me. That’s something.
I exhale, bracing myself to move again. “I should get back. Varek wanted a word.” Which is an absolute lie, but I also want to speak to him without outsiders present. And yeah, it sounds shitty calling a fellow Aussie or even my mate that, but I’ve put my trust in both Varek and Shanae for over two years of my life. I want to know what they’re really thinking and if they have a plan.
She nods. “Come back later. Dawson’s not out of the woods, but… it’s good he has people fighting for him.”
“Yeah,” I say, voice a little rough. “He’s got us.”
I just hope he survives this. If not, I have no idea what that will mean for me and Kael. And obviously, IwantDawson to survive. That goes without saying. But yeah, selfish or not, I’m thinking about myself too.
It starts with a tingle.
Not the sexy kind, unfortunately.
More like the pins-and-needles buzz of a limb that’s been asleep too long, crawling under my skin, moving in strange, rhythmic pulses. It begins in my palms. Spreads to my forearms. I rub them, thinking maybe I’m imagining it. That maybe I just slept weird or need to hydrate.
Spoiler: I’m not imagining anything either.
Since Varek wasn’t available to chat, I caught up on some of my community chores—joyous tasks like restocking rations, clearing the dried creeper vines from the main water pipe entrance, and arguing with Decca about the definition of “edible.” Standard Tuesday stuff.
Not that I know what day of the week it is in human terms.
But I’m very much awake.
And still tingling.
I’m back in my quarters, sitting cross-legged on the floor like I’m about to meditate—which is hilarious considering I have the focus of a magpie on a caffeine high. I stare at my palms, flexing them slowly.
