Grayson exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “You think I wanted to tie you to me, to drag you into my world and all the danger that comes with it?”
“I don’t know what you wanted. You’ve never told me.”
“I wanted to save you. That’s all. I didn’t care about the bond or what it would mean. I just wanted to get you out of there alive.”
“Well, congratulations,” she said bitterly. “You got what you wanted. But now I’m stuck with this—stuck with you—and I don’t know how to make sense of any of it.”
Her words cut deeper than he expected, and he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “You’re not stuck with me. If you want to break the bond, fine. Do it. But don’t pretend this is just about me. You’re scared, Cora. Scared of what this bond means, scared of what it makes you feel. And instead of facing it, you’re trying to destroy it.”
“And what would you know about what I feel?” she challenged. “Don’t stand there and tell me how I feel, Grayson. You don’t know.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but the words died on his lips. She was right. He didn’t know. How could he, when he’d spent so much time trying to ignore his own feelings, trying to bury them under the weight of his fear?
“I know what it feels like to lose someone because of this world. I know what it feels like to fail. My first mate died becauseof me. Because of the choices I made. And I can’t—I won’t—let that happen again.”
“You’re not responsible for me, Grayson. Whatever happened before, that’s not my burden to carry.”
“I care about you, Cora. Whether you believe it or not.”
She froze, and for a moment, the tension in the room seemed to shift. He thought she might actually let her guard down. But then she shook her head, stepping back.
“This isn’t about feelings. It’s about freedom. About having a choice. Breaking the bond is the only option.”
Grayson’s heart sank, even if he didn’t understand why. He had gotten so used to her presence, to coming home to her and protecting her, that he wasn’t sure he could ever go back to living alone. But he didn’t tell her any of this. He couldn’t. Instead, he let out a curt, “Fine. Do what you have to do. Just don’t expect me to stick around and watch you destroy yourself.”
He turned and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.
Chapter 17 - Cora
Cora didn’t hear the knock until it came again, louder the second time. She glanced at the clock, where the soft tick marked the sluggish crawl of mid-morning. Her body still felt heavy from the fight with Grayson, and she’d barely slept. She wasn’t ready for visitors.
The third knock jolted her into motion. She wiped her hands on her jeans, leaving smudges of dried herbs behind, and opened the door. Elena stood on the other side, wearing the kind of no-nonsense look that only she could pull off.
“Are you going to let me in, or should I deliver my lecture on the porch?” Elena asked, not waiting for a response as she stepped past Cora into the small apartment.
Cora blinked, then shut the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you,” Elena replied. “I heard from Zach that things got…heated.”
Cora sputtered her lips. “Zach talks too much.”
Elena smirked, but her eyes softened as they landed on Cora. “That’s true, but I’m glad he does for once. He said you and Grayson had a fight.”
“It wasn’t a fight,” Cora claimed as she moved to the kitchen table where her unfinished potion supplies were still spread out. She began tidying them without much thought. “It was more of a disagreement.”
“Uh-huh.” Elena pulled out a chair and sat, watching her like a hawk. “Want to tell me what this ‘disagreement’ was about?”
“Not really.”
Elena didn’t budge. “That’s too bad because I’m not leaving until you do.”
Cora huffed before tossing a bundle of dried sage into its container. “Fine. He found me working on the bond-breaking potion again and lost it. He said it was dangerous and reckless, and I said he didn’t get to decide what I do with my life. End of story.”
Elena tilted her head, studying her. “And is that really the end of it?”
“Yes,” Cora snapped, but the word lacked conviction. She turned her back to Elena, busying herself with rearranging jars on the shelf. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll get over it.”
“Will he? Because it sounds like there’s a lot more going on here than just a potion.”
