The bond is there. Its been there all along, just out of reach, lingering in the space between what is and what’s been stolen from me.
And whoever he is, wherever he is, he felt it too.
I know it the same way I know my own heartbeat.
The same way I felt each of my other bonds snap into place like pieces of a puzzle I didn’t know I was solving.
Whoever he is, he’s waiting.
And I’m running out of time to find him.
Chapter 28
Kaia
The morning is too bright.
It shouldn’t bother me. The sanctuary’s halls are always bathed in soft golden light filtering through enchanted crystals embedded in the walls. But today it feels harsh, intrusive, like it’s trying to scrape me awake when my mind is still tangled in dream-smoke and shadows that won’t let go.
I don’t remember falling asleep again after the nightmare, but when I finally pry my eyes open, Finn’s arm is draped across my waist like he’s afraid I might disappear. His warmth is steady, his breathing slow and even against my neck. My shadows drift around the room—twice as many as when I first stepped into this cursed realm. Bob notices my attention and immediately starts herding the smaller ones into formation like a drill sergeant with unruly recruits.
As if military precision will solve anything.
For a few heartbeats, I let myself stay here. Let myself breathe. Let myself pretend the world isn’t unraveling faster than I can hold it together.
Then the ache in my chest pulses, sharp and demanding, dragging me back to reality.
The dream. The missing bond. The stranger with storm-cloud eyes who felt like coming home and losing everything all at once.
I press my fingers against my sternum, willing the hollow space inside me to stopbleeding. But whoever he is, wherever he is, he felt it too. I know it like I know my own heartbeat. Like I know the exact moment each of my other bonds snapped into place.
He’s out there, waiting.
And I don’t know if I’m supposed to find him, or if he’s already hunting me.
Finn stirs beside me, letting out a low groan before his grip tightens around my waist.
“Five more minutes,” he mumbles into my shoulder. “Or twenty. Maybe forever.”
I snort despite myself. “Planning to become one with the mattress?”
“Not my fault you’re perfect for cuddling,” he mutters, lips brushing against my neck in a way that sends heat curling down my spine. For a moment, I let myself sink into the sensation, eyes fluttering closed as warmth spreads through me like honey.
But then reality crashes back—the ache in my chest flaring, guilt twisting my stomach at enjoying this when someone else is waiting for me in whatever void dreams are made of.
Finn must feel me tense because he sighs against my skin and pulls back. “Right. Functioning adults. I keep forgetting.”
“We’ve never been functioning adults,” I point out, grateful for his easy reading of my mood.
He grins, stretching as he rolls out of bed. “Come on, Trouble. Let’s see if breakfast comes with less existential crisis today.”
Highly doubtful.
But I get up anyway, pulling on leather pants that fit too well to be coincidence and ignoring the way my shadows seem more agitated than usual. Carl actually salutes me as we pass, while Mouse circles Finn like a suspicious chaperone.
The dining hall buzzes with morning energy when we arrive. Long tables stretch across the room, filled with warriors and scholars and people who look like they actually got sleep. The air is thick with roasted meat and fresh bread, but my stomach churns, still twisted up in dream-fragments and missing pieces.
Aspen and Torric sit rigid as statues, their eyes tracking my approach. Malrik lounges beside them with studied casualness, though the tension in his silver gaze tells me he’s still processing last night’s revelations.
