"Cadeon," I say quietly. "It's okay. They're friends."
He glances at me, something flickering in his expression, then gives Ash the smallest, stiffest nod I've ever seen. He doesn't shake hands. Doesn't step fully inside. Just positions himself where he can see both the door and the room's occupants.
Ash withdraws his hand without offense, exchanging a look with Thea I read as: oh, boy.
"Come in, come in," Thea ushers me inside. "Ash, love, can you put the kettle on?"
"Already done." He heads toward the kitchen with the comfortable ease of someone completely at home. "I'll bring tea."
I watch him go, then turn to Thea. "He's... not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know. Someone more..." I struggle for the word, and risk a glance at Cadeon. "Guarded? Formal?"
Thea laughs. "Ash? Gods, no. He's the least formal person I know." She leads me to a comfortable sitting area near the fire, Cadeon following, wary. "We've been bonded for twelve years. It took about three days for him to start making fun of my terrible organizational skills and another week before he was rearranging my stillroom without asking."
"He rearranged your stillroom?"
"Alphabetically. By common name, not botanical name, which is completely useless but very sweet." She settles into achair, tucking her feet under her. "He's my partner. My friend. Sometimes my conscience when I'm about to do something stupid. The bond just... is. It doesn't define us. It's just part of how we work together."
I think about Cadeon standing guard by the door, about the way he still flinches when I make sudden movements, about the careful distance he usually maintains.
"I don't know how to get there," I admit quietly. "To partnership. We’ve...we’re, trying. He's so..."
"Traumatized?" Thea's voice is gentle.
"Yes."
Ash returns with a tray of tea and what smells like ginger biscuits. He sets it down and immediately claims the chair next to Thea, close enough that their shoulders brush. She leans into him without thinking, and he hands her a biscuit like it's the most natural thing in the world.
The casual intimacy of it makes my chest ache, but I can’t tell if it’s the same as what I feel for Cadeon now. Not intimate in a romantic way, more like friendship.
"Your grandmother," Ash says carefully, "had a reputation. Powerful. Brilliant. Absolutely terrifying."
"That's diplomatic."
"I'm trying to be polite." He takes a biscuit for himself. "The way she bonded... it wasn't the way most of us do it. Hasn't been the way for a long time. But she was old-school. Very old-school."
"She dominated him," I say flatly. "Kept constant pressure on the bond. Treated him like a weapon."
Thea winces. "That would explain why your bond feels so different."
"Different how?"
"Thin. Gossamer-thin. I can barely sense it at all." She sets down her tea, leaning forward. "Which is strange, because bondsusually strengthen over time, especially in the first few weeks. But yours... it's like it's barely there. Can you even feel him?"
I glance toward the door, where Cadeon stands silent sentinel. Through the bond, I feel... something. A thread of awareness. Cold and distant and faint enough that I have to concentrate to sense it at all. It’s grown stronger since the last feeding, but it’s still not very strong in my opinion.
"Barely," I admit. "Is that bad?"
Thea and Ash exchange a look.
"It's unusual," Thea says carefully. "Most bonds, even new ones, have more presence. More weight. But yours..." She tilts her head, studying me with that focused healer's attention. "You're not maintaining it, are you? Not the way your grandmother did."
"I don't know how to maintain it the way she did. I don't want to maintain it that way."
"Good," Ash says firmly. "That way is shit."
