His dark hair glistens under the moonlight, streaks of silver highlighting certain strands. The sharp lines of his jaw are accentuated, while the soft light makes the fullness of his lips and the gentleness in his eyes even more pronounced. I can’t help but feel a strong urge to lean in just a little closer and see for myself just how soft those lips really are.
“My Politics assignment was to sit in on a trade agreement with Kyrr. Your father mentioned that our families were best friends and even shared that you spent a lot of time on Malaya when you were little.” He refuses to meet my questioning stare and, instead, absentmindedly tosses a small stone into the water, the splash momentarily drawing my attention before I return it to his face, trying and failing to read him.
The thought of our parents being close friends tugs at something deep within me. A memory, perhaps? I have a few more questions as well. “That’s a lot to unpack,” I murmur softly, half to myself, as mymind searches for anything to remind me of ever knowing him before I came to the academy.
My words grab his attention as he shifts to face me. A flicker of curiosity, or maybe hurt, crosses his face before he quickly masks it behind his usual indifference.
These precious moments of vulnerability remind me that there is more to him than meets the eye, like a small voice pushing me toward him.
“He mentioned that we were friends when we were toddlers until you all stopped visiting around the time you were five or six. I suppose our parents kept in touch, but they stopped traveling to Malaya. He didn’t go into detail as to why. I never realized how intertwined our childhoods were. I can’t remember anything from then. Odd.” He shrugs casually, tossing another rock into the flowing water.
“So we’ve known each other our whole lives without even realizing it?” I feel a spark of curiosity as I sit a little straighter next to him. The moment I move, our shoulders brush, and the same energy I felt when our fingertips touched comes flooding back. Clearing my throat, I instinctively grab a stick to keep my hands busy and subtly shift away.
“Why do you do that?” he asks, his tone gentle and free of judgment.
I sigh, contemplating for a moment, feeling generous with my honesty. After all, if we were friends once, maybe we can be again. I mean, I’m open to the idea of being friends with his brother, so why not with him?
But what would our friendship look like? We don’t seem to share much in common aside from our shared love of flying off into space and the weight of being heirs to our crowns.
He’s the mysterious, broody, popular type, while I prefer to retreat and hide, or attempt to blend in the best I can. As I meditate over it, I realize how much I want to feel normal in a world filled with expectations of who I am and who I should be. Anders—Ryker, whatever name he deigns to go by—seems indifferent to the opinions of others.
I wish.
Shaking off my thoughts, I respond, “Do you feel it? If you do,what does it feel like?” I toss the branch into the water, watching it drift away on a current.
“Are you talking about the light or the energy?” He holds my gaze, making my heart beat faster. I hate that he answers with questions, but I refuse to be the one to break the trend, so I ask another question of my own.
“Are they different?” I curl my knees to my chest and rest my head on my folded arms.
His eyes crinkle a moment as if he’s studying me. “They’re definitely different.” He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, and his piercing gaze seems to search the depths of my soul.
I shift my weight nervously, feeling momentarily exposed, before looking at the water. “I think the Bond between us is the light. Can you see that?” He catches my gaze again, and I nod and watch as he closes his eyes. I allow my walls to crumble.
Magic washes over me like ripples of light. It’s then that I realize the difference. The Bond explodes around us, the iridescent colors flowing like a gentle breeze, reaching out in every direction and weaving between us, burrowing deep within us.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, keeping my eyes closed and absorbing the colors that shift and sway, wrapping around us, intertwining our energies. This connection—whatever it is—fills me with a hope I can’t quite comprehend.
“Can I have your hand?” I blink and meet his gaze. I don’t know why, but Sienna’s words echo in my mind. I don’t want to just be another girl on his long list of potential suitors.
He lets out a gentle sigh. “Raea, this is simply to demonstrate the difference. Holding your hand won’t change anything between us.”
My cheeks flush.
“I know that. It’s just...” I pause, feeling the subtle energy flickering around us.What is that?There’s an undeniable pull encouraging me to trust him, to let him in. It feels overwhelming, so consuming, like I’m losing a piece of myself every time I acknowledge it.
I take a deep breath. If the Bond between us didn’t exist, and it was just us, who would I be to him?
“Before we go further,” I tuck my hands into my lap, needing a distraction, “I need to understand—you have such a busy life. Why did you agree to be my escort? You have friends, your brother, and a lot of responsibility as a dorm leader. What made you say yes?” I realize I’ve spoken more forcefully than intended, but I need to know the truth. Holding someone’s hand isn’t something I take lightly. It means something to me.
His eyes shift to the river, his body so preternaturally still. I wonder whether he’s on the verge of walking away or if he might share his thoughts with me. I’ve been tortured over the past few weeks, wondering what prompted him to say yes.
“Remember when we were in Techs?” he begins. “I was in Valik’s dorm, and you were in Kaera’s. There was that big Recon assignment where we were tasked with finding our way back to the dorms after being dropped off six miles away.” His eyes seem to lighten, and at the same time, the memory flashes vividly in my mind. “The boys were buzzing with excitement, all of us ready to prove how big and tough we were. Some of the girls were excited about the adventure. But then there was you, standing there, looking as if you were moments away from breaking down and crying.”
I groan into my palms. I remember that moment, how I had felt like I was teetering on the edge of panic. It had been one of my most humiliating public breakdowns, and one I don’t care to revisit.
Anders lets out a good-natured chuckle and encourages me to listen. I nod, settling in for the story. “I’ll never forget how Kellan pulled you into a hug and whispered something in your ear.” He leans back on his elbows, a sad smile playing on his lips. “I never found out what it was he said to you, but the way you smiled afterward lit up the entire room. I’ll admit, it was the first time I ever felt a twinge of jealousy toward Kellan Hyston, Raea Tierson’s best friend.”
A flutter of warmth blooms in my chest at his confession, making my heart beat erratically. I press a hand to my chest to make sure I’m okay. I had no clue that Anders ever noticed me back then, let alone felt envy toward Kellan.
