“You deserve to choose this, Amara. Not because of a bond or fate or something inside us that keeps pulling.”
My hands curl into fists. “But youwantedthis!”
Now I’m the one pounding my chest. “You felt the bond—and youstillwanted this!”
His voice lowers, rough and fraying at the edges. “This connection . . . the bond . . . it takes it too far. You deserve more,” he says, barely above a whisper. “More than this—more thanme.”
And suddenly—I hear it. Not his words—his fear. He’safraid.
Of what this means.
Of what it could cost.
Of me.
Calryx was right.Whatever this is—it’s tearing him up from the inside. Enough to walk away. Even fromme.
My heart hammers in my chest—he doesn’t get it. He hasn’t heard what matters.
Ichosethis. Ichosehim.
And I’m done pretending otherwise.
I step forward, my fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt to try to reach him.
“Thane . . . ”
But he shakes his head, stepping back, ripping himself away—like my touch burns.
And then—he walks away. Again.
Not because he doesn’t feel it or want it. Because he thinks loving me is a risk—because he thinkshe’sthe danger.
What the fuck is going on in his head?
I should grab his arm and make him listen. I saw his eyes—the wreckage there. But I know he won’t listen. Not yet.
So I don’t push.
I watch him go, shoulders rigid, strides too sharp. Like walking away is a battle he’s trying to win. And if he stops—even for a breath—he’ll lose.
I exhale, shaky, hands clenched at my sides.
Fine! Run, Thane. But you don’t get to decide for me—I’ve already chosen this. I’ve already chosenyou.And when you’re done fighting? I’ll still be here. The way you’ve always been for me.
But Thane doesn’t get far. The second he steps past the edges of the training field—the bond lashes out.
A pulse. A wave. Ashockof something raw and feral.
It slams into my chest hard and I stumble, breath knocked from my lungs. My hand flies to my sternum. It’s like something inside me just woke up—and didn’t like what it saw.
Across the field, Thane freezes.
His entire body goes rigid, fists clenched, back locked. Like he’s trying to hold himself together through a storm only he can feel.
The air shifts. Electric. Ancient. Angry.
This is no longer aboutus, it’s about the bond. And it’sfurious.
