I wet my lips, my fingers gripping the blanket beneath me.
“Of this bond. Of what it means.” I take a breath. “Ly, I felt it for the first time yesterday—twice. Now there’s this dull emptiness inside me since he left. Like someone carved a piece out of me and forgot to put it back.” I pause, pressing a hand tomy chest. “It’s such an odd feeling.”
Lyra doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “And that terrifies you. Especially now that you can feel it too.”
I exhale sharply, rubbing my hands over my face. “Of course it terrifies me, Lyra.”
My voice is even. Too even. Because if I let it crack, even for a second, I might not be able to hold everything together.
Lyra doesn’t react. She just waits.
I swallow, my fingers tightening in the fabric of my blanket.
“Feeling it makes it all so much more real. Like there’s so much more at stake, if that’s even possible.” I pause. My chest tightens. “I didn’t expect it to feel so . . . intimate. So permanent.” I press a hand to my chest, where the ache still hums faintly. “It’s not just a connection. It’s a thread I can’t untangle—even if I wanted to.”
Lyra offers a small, knowing smile. “And now you understand what he’s been carrying this whole time.”
I nod, just once. Then press a hand to my chest—where I felt him.
“It’s not just knowing he’s there.” I breathe deep, trying to stay steady. “It’s more. More than I wanted. More than I was ready for.” I shake my head, jaw tight. “It’s him, Ly. Not just a feeling. It’shim. All of him—his emotions, his mood, his presence, his magics—all there.”
She doesn’t say anything. And I hate that. Because now I have to keep going.
I shift, restless, my voice lower now.
“Whatever this is between us—it barely started.” I glance down at my hands. “I didn’t even have time to figure out how I felt—before it became something else. Something bigger.”
I laugh once. Harsh. Not because it’s funny.
“The Spiritborn. The war. The fuckingbond.” I run a hand through my hair, yanking a little at the roots. “I barely had timeto breathe. And now I’m supposed to carrythistoo?”
Lyra hums, stretching out her legs. “You say you’re scared, but it sounds more like resentment.” Lyra stands up and peaks up over my bunk. “Mara, you’ve already stopped fighting it. Now you’re just afraid to admit you want it.”
The words slip out before I can stop them. “There was never a choice.”
My voice is too final. Too certain.
Lyra doesn’t blink.
I exhale sharply, pressing a hand to my chest. The place I felt it. Felthim.
“It’s real, Lyra. And permanent. I don’t think either of us can undo it—even if we wanted to. I kept telling myself I never had a choice. That everything was happeningtome. But now . . . I think the truth is worse.”
I pause, chewing my lip.
“Because maybe I do. Maybe I still do. And I just don’t know what to do with it.”
I drag a hand through my hair. Try to breathe.
Lyra’s quiet for several moments and I think maybe she fell asleep. Or she’s about to give it to me in the way only Lyra can.
“You’re not scared of the bond, Mara. You’re scared that he meant every word. That he wants you. Because that means choosing him back—and gods forbid you open your chest wide enough to bechosen.”
Lyra leans back against the headboard of her bed, flipping her dagger in one hand. “So what are you going to do with that, then?”
I blink, thrown by the simplicity of the question.
I press my fingers into the blanket beneath me. Let the weight of it all settle. Then—quietly—
