The world shattered, and the partial bond flared so bright I saw stars behind my closed eyes.
Not complete. I could feel that clearly—the bond was stronger now, deeper, but still waiting for something. But it didn't matter. This wasn't about completing the bond. This was about us. About choosing each other. About affirming life in the aftermath of almost losing it.
We collapsed together, breathing hard, tangled in sleeping bag and thermal blankets and each other. Neither of us spoke for a long moment.
"Wow," James said finally.
I laughed, surprised by my own lightness. "Yeah."
He pressed a kiss to my temple, and through the bond I felt his contentment—warm and steady and sure.
"Thank you," he murmured. "For trusting me with this."
"Thank you for being worth trusting."
We lay in comfortable silence, the partial bond humming between us. Outside, the sun had fully risen. The mountain was waiting. The feral was waiting. Everything we'd come here to do still lay ahead.
But I let myself have another moment. Another breath of this impossible peace.
"We should talk about what comes next," I said finally.
"The feral."
"Yeah."
James shifted, propping himself up. His expression was serious now, focused—the playful warmth replaced by determination.
"Tell me what we're walking into."
I organized my thoughts.
"He's near the ridge. In the visions, he's always alone—always in wolf form, running or fighting or just surviving. His human mind is buried deep. This won't be like calling you back."
"But you can reach him."
"I think so. The partial bond I have with him—it's faint, but it's there. If I can get close enough, make contact, maybe I can use it as an anchor."
"And I'll be there." James took my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Whatever you need. Backup, support, someone to watch your back—I'm there."
"Even knowing what he might be? What he might become to us?"
"Especially knowing that." His jaw set in that stubborn way I'd come to love. "If he's part of this—part of us—then we don't leave him behind. We find him, we reach him, we bring him home."
Home. The word settled into my chest like it belonged there.
"I don't know if I can do this," I admitted. "I've never actually saved a feral before. Everything I know is theoretical—things I watched, things I read. What if it's not enough?"
"Then we'll figure it out together." He squeezed my hand. "You're not alone anymore, Lumi. Whatever happens up there, you've got me. And that's not nothing."
It wasn't nothing. It was everything.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go find him."
We dressed quickly, packed up the tent, ate a cold breakfast of energy bars and melted snow. The morning was clear—pale blue sky, sharp cold, the mountain rising above us like a challenge and a promise.
The ridge was close now. And somewhere beyond it, the wolf from my visions was waiting.
James fell into step beside me as we started up the slope. Through the partial bond, I felt his determination—solid and unshakeable.
