“Through our thread.” I lifted my hand toward his, slow enough that he could pull away if he needed to. Slow enough that my intent stayed clear. “It’s thin, but it’s there. It’s been there since you reached for me—”
I hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s… faint. Like a brush at the edge of my mental shields. A constant awareness. It doesn’t anchor or claim—itlingers. Keeps touching. Keeps reaching.”
My fingers finally found his. Cold. Too cold. As if the warmth of him had leaked away along with something far more vital. “It’s been there since our lesson,” I continued softly. “Since our kiss. Ever since you reached for me.”
“When I was dying.” His voice broke on the word. “I reached for you when I was dying. Across the entire galaxy. I didn’t even know your name—and I reached for you like you were the only thing that could save me.”
I tightened my grip just enough to let him feel I was real. Still here. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” His gaze dropped to our joined hands—my rich golden-brown skin against his pale fingers. “The Fates. The Stars. Whatever forces decide our lives before we’re born. I don’t know why I found you, Selena. I just know that I did.”
The moment our skin fully touched, something shifted—subtle, unmistakable. His attention snapped to my hand, hovering near his now, as if he could feel it too.
“I reached for you like you were the only thing that could save me.”
Heat bloomed in my chest—not the warmth of desire, but something deeper. Almost like instinct. The golden light of my aura flared, visible even in the dim room, washing over our joined hands like sunrise breaking through storm clouds. The Oetsae symbiont inside me stirred, recognizing something in him that called tomein ways I didn’t fully understand.
Through the thin thread between us, I felt his chaos… shift.
Not vanish. Not heal. But quiet—like a scream turning into a harsh, broken breath. The void where his twin had been didn’t close, but it stopped widening. His runes steadied into a rhythm that finally resembled a heartbeat—stable but not his normal.
Still wounded.
Still raw.
But not bleeding out into nothing.
The daggers settled into a gentler orbit.
Still lethal. Still there.
Controlled, for the first time since his brother’s disappearance.
His eyes met mine—no longer empty. Haunted, yes. Grief-stricken. But present in a way they hadn’t been before. Like I’d reached into the void, pulled him back to the surface and didn’t know whether to fight it or cling.
The bridge between us held. Not a mate bond. I knew what those felt like—intention and emotion locking into permanence, undeniable and absolute. This was something else.
I didn’t answer him with words.
I opened myself instead.
Carefully—because I knew the difference. My mates livedinsidemy mental shields, anchored deep, doors flung wide and locked behind them. What I did now was different. There was no door here. No invitation inward.
I reached along the outer edge of my shields, found the faint, yearning thread he’d been brushing against since our lesson—since his kiss—and wrapped it gently, deliberately, around my own defenses. Not consuming it. Not pulling him in.
Tying him there.
His thread shuddered the instant it touched mine, desperate and fragile, holding itself together through sheer will. I felt his relief crash through the connection like a sob he hadn’t allowed himself to make. Felt the way he clung without meaning to.
A seal snapped into place—not a bond, not a claim. A permanent line along the outside of my shields. Close enough to feel. Close enough to reach. Like a telepathic bridge that would never fully fade.
A lifeline.
His breath hitched.
His eyes met mine—no longer empty. Still haunted. Still fractured. But present in a way they hadn’t been before, as if I’d reached into the void and hauled him back to the surface, and now neither of us knew whether to fight the pull or cling to it.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was raw, stripped of every defense. “Now I can feel you too.”
