Mouse growls low. A warning.
It’s exhaustion. Or the weirdness in the bonds. Or hell, maybe it’s nerves because Darian’s somewhere behind us, bound and guarded, and I swear I can feel the resignation in his soul.
It’s not that.
The pulse hits without warning.
Sharp. Static. My heartbeat glitches.
I stumble.
Mouse hisses, claws digging into my shoulder.
Bob flares so hard his edges warp.
“Not now,” I whisper. “Please not now.”
It pulls again. Stronger. Insistent.
I clutch my chest, pressing my palm over my ribs like I can smother it.
They’re around me before I can wave them off. Too close. Heat and cold and magic pressing in from all sides.
It feels like drowning.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
Kieran’s voice cuts through. “Kaia—”
“I said I’m fine.”
Silence.
“We stop here,” Kieran says.
I push forward between Malrik and Finn. “No. We keep moving.”
“We assess before crossing.” He gestures toward the river cutting through the forest ahead—wide, fast-moving, the current dark.
“No. We move. Now.”
His jaw tightens. “Kaia—”
“We’re not stopping.”
The silence stretches between us.
Kieran exhales slowly, then nods once. “Five minutes. Then we cross.”
I turn away before he can see my hands shaking.
I walk to the river’s edge, needing air and space and the fucking bonds to stop screaming.
Mouse leaps down, settling near my feet. Bob positions himself at my side. Patricia hovers close, notebook dim but watchful.
I try to focus. Breathe. Calm the shadows clustering too tight.
Ignore the pull I feel to Darian that’s now impossible to ignore.
