"Especially because none of us had a choice." His green eyes meet mine in the reflection. "Look, what Kieran did? It was wrong. But these bonds? They were already there, Kaia. We all felt it building. He just..." He runs a hand through his auburn hair, frustration bleeding through the connection. "He took away our chance to choose when. How."
I close my eyes, fighting against the fresh wave of grief that threatens to overwhelm me. "It was supposed to be beautiful."
"It still can be."
"How?" The word comes out raw, scraping my throat. "How can it be beautiful when it was forced on us?"
"Because the bond forming and what we choose to do with it are two different things," Finn says softly, and something in his voice makes me look at him directly. He's watching me with none of his usual mischief, just quiet understanding that aches through our connection. "He might have forced the timing, but he can't force what happens next. That's still ours."
My shadows drift toward him unconsciously, drawn to the steady warmth beneath his chaos. Even Bob seems to relax slightly, though he maintains his protective stance.
"I can feel all of you," I whisper, pressing a hand to my chest where the bonds pulse like separate heartbeats. "All the time. Your emotions, your energy... it's overwhelming."
"Tell me about it." Finn's laugh is gentle but strained. "Your rage alone could power half the sanctuary right now. Not that I blame you."
"How are you so calm about this?"
He shrugs, but I feel the carefully controlled panic beneath his casual demeanor. "Someone has to be. And since you're busy plotting murder, Malrik's doing his brooding statue impression, and the twins look ready to tear the place apart..."
"And Kieran?"
"Is definitely aware of how badly he screwed up." Finn's tone darkens. "Trust me on that one. The guilt coming off him is practically choking."
I sink down beside him, close enough that our shoulders brush. The contact sends a jolt through the bond, like completing a circuit I didn't know was broken. My shadows curl around us both, seeking comfort in his presence.
"I don't know how to do this," I admit quietly. "How to handle feeling everyone all the time. How to trust any of it when it started like this."
"We figure it out together." His hand finds mine, fingers interlacing. The simple touch grounds me in a way that surprises us both. "Day by day. Choice by choice. Until maybe one day it feels less like a chain and more like..."
"More like what?"
"More like coming home."
I turn to look at him properly, meeting his gaze. There's a vulnerability there I've never seen before, raw and unguarded in a way that makes my breath catch.
"Kaia," he says, his voice dropping to something softer, more real. "What we have—what we've always had—it's not defined by this bond. It's not created by it. You know that, right?"
Before I can answer, he shifts closer, one hand cupping my face with surprising gentleness. "Close your eyes."
"Finn—"
"Trust me. Please."
I do, and suddenly I'm overwhelmed by sensations that have nothing to do with magical bonds. The warmth of his skin against mine. The steady rhythm of his breathing. The scent that's uniquely him, smoke and starlight and something indefinably wild. But more than that, I feel his emotions washing over me without the filter of magic. Admiration. Affection. A fierce protectiveness that steals my breath.
"This," Finn murmurs, his thumb tracing my cheekbone, "this is us. No bond. No magic. Just you and me, Trouble."
And then he kisses me.
It's like the world explodes into color. Every nerve ending comes alive, singing with something that has nothing to do with forced connections and everything to do with choice. I've been kissed before, but never like this. Never with such tenderness and passion intertwined, never with someone who makes me feel like I'm coming apart and being rebuilt all at once.
When we finally break apart, both breathless, Finn rests his forehead against mine.
"That," he says, wonder bleeding into his voice, "is what we are without any bonds at all. Beautiful. Powerful. Real."
And then something shifts between us.
The bond—still raw and unwanted—suddenly doesn't feel like a chain. It feels like recognition. Like something that was always there finally has permission to exist.
