His brow furrows, tension creeping into his shoulders as he props himself on one elbow. He doesn’t speak at first, just watches me like I’ve asked for a limb, not a drop of blood. That bond, still unfinished, shimmers between us—aching.
“You’re… worried?” I ask.
His silence confirms it.
I sit back on my heels, heart thudding a little harder. “I figured it was the next step. Right? We’ve already done the energy exchange. The emotional merge is—” I gesture between us. “—well, clearly a thing.”
Kael rubs his hand over his face. “I want to. You know I do.”
“But?”
His luminous eyes meet mine, stormy. “After what we talked about yesterday…. If someone’s manipulating rifts, using bonds or pulling power—this could make us a bigger target. We don’t know what finishing this will do.”
I blink. “We’re already bonded, Kael. We’ve done everything but this last part. And sure, maybe it makes us glow brighter in the dark, but we can’t leave this thing unfinished. That’s not how fate works. Or… movies. Or romance novels.”
His lips twitch faintly.
Despite the smile, I mean it. I’m not forcing this on him. If he’s not ready—if he’s scared—it has to be a choice.
Before he can answer, there’s a sudden, sharp pounding on my door. Urgent. Loud.
Kael’s already on his feet, warrior instincts snapping into place. He tugs on his pants with swift efficiency, hand already reaching for the knife on the table. I scramble up, too, dragging on my shirt.
“Sonny!” Shanae’s voice. Firm. Pressing.
Kael yanks the door open.
“It’s Dawson. The prince. You’re needed. Now.”
No more explanation is needed. Every drop of blood in my body rushes to my feet and head simultaneously. Adrenaline explodes through me, and Kael doesn’t hesitate. He sweeps me off my feet, bridal style, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Seriously?” I mutter as he bolts through the corridor.
“It’s faster,” he replies, and that’s all I get before he’s a blur, his boots pounding the ground as we race towards the medical wing. And for once, I don’t argue. Because something’s wrong. That much is obvious.
The corridors fly past in a rush of cold air and flickering lights, my heart hammering in time with each of Kael’s strides. When we burst into the medical wing, the tension hits me like a wall. The room is too quiet.
Prince Aelith lies on the bed—unmoving. Unconscious. Not just resting or sedated like before. His skin, usually glowing faintly with that royal bioluminescence, is dim. Shadowed. Wrong.
Iris is already here, flitting between monitoring devices and handwritten notes, her face drawn tight with concern. The swirling black mist in the corner confirms her mate is here, too, lurking like some watchful, angry guardian spirit.
Kael sets me down with care but is instantly at Aelith’s side.
“What happened?” he demands—calm, steady, but I can feel the storm beneath his voice.
Iris doesn’t flinch. “His sedation wore off sometime during the night. I spoke to him briefly before I turned in. He seemed… lucid. Determined. I left him under guard and checked back an hour later. He was unconscious.”
“Foul play?” I blurt, heart in my throat. “The guards?”
She shakes her head. “They’re loyal. Varek chose them himself. I stayed up most of the night in the next room, checking in every hour. No one came in. No alarms were triggered. And Henny would have known.”
I eye the prince again, swallowing hard. “Then… what?”
“He gave too much,” Iris says quietly. “He’s stable—for now. His vitals are… borderline. But his Glowranth energy is low. Dangerously so.”
Kael’s jaw clenches. “How low?”
“Too low,” she replies. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Not in Glowranth, not in any species. It’s like… he burned himself out.”
