He submits to the bond.
“We will spend every second of our existence trying to prove ourselves worthy,” he declares for us all. “For as long as it takes. Forever.”
It isn’t a demand, nor a claim, but a promise.
A vow.
“Even if we don’t deserve you.” His fingers tighten around hers. “You’re ours.”
Jasmine’s expression softens as she stares at my brother, like she never truly believed he’d say it. Not him.
Then she smiles.
Even dimmed beneath the rune, the bond sings louder now. A steady pull beneath the quiet, a heavenly hum thrumming through us all.
And when I glance at my unit, at my brothers, I see we all wear the same expression. The grief of what we did, but more so, the desperation to fix it. And we will.
We’ll become worthy of her, however long it takes.
Chapter 40: Jasmine
We’re bonded.
My entire life has just shifted beneath me, yet I feel oddly… calm.
There’s this sensation deep within my chest, buried beneath layers of skin and tissue, like something has finally settled.
Maybe it’s because the choice has already been made, and not by me alone, but all of us. Together. Five years go.
There’s no going back, bonds cannot be severed or reversed. What’s done is done.
Part of me feels relieved, but there’s still a pressing weight, a need weaving between us. They’re ready, all of them, to give everything… to take everything.
And now, I feel them more than I ever have.
Kane, with all his shadows and brooding silence, no longer questions the bond—but still questions himself. I feel his doubt encumbering our connection. There’s a hungry hope, threaded with a fear that he’s too much and not enough all at once.
Julien holds himself steady, composed, but there’s a fire in his unwavering gaze, a flicker of urgency cracked with dejection for what he almost did.
And Sai... oh, Sai.
There’s nothing quiet about his want, his desire, his need.It doesn’t whisper—it roars. But it’s stained with sordid self-loathing. A bitter hatred that means he can’t even hold my gaze.
And then there’s Ezekial. He’s supposed to be the reasonable one, the balance. But I feel it in him now, how he’s so close to giving in, then pulls away. He’s behind me, but refuses to touch. How his darkness brushes mine, then recoils.
I feel all of them. All their bittersweet emotions.
Their longing, tangled with despair. Their want, pressed down by loathing. Their desire, curdled with disgust. Their quiet hope, sickened by shame.
They may be drowning in it, but I will not.
For the first time that I can ever remember, there’s no uncertainty.
They are mine.
I am theirs.
That truth cannot be touched, not by grief, not by hatred, not even by them. And if they lose themselves to the dark, I will claim them back.
