Ahead, I catch the low murmur of voices. Kieran and Revna, scouting the path forward, their conversation carrying on the morning air.
"—was never about what I wanted," Kieran is saying, his voice quieter than I've ever heard it. "It was about what would keep her alive."
"Even if it meant she'd never forgive you?" Revna's response is gentle but pointed.
A long pause. Then, so quietly I almost miss it: "Especially then."
The words stop me cold. I pull Enif to a halt, hidden behind a cluster of pine trees, and listen to my heart hammer against my ribs.
He never looked proud of the bond he forced. Just resigned. Just tired. And maybe I never saw him clearly—maybe I didn't want to.
I ride in silence after that, Callum's accusations and Kieran's admission tangle like barbed wire in my brain. Is anything real? Are any of my choices actually mine, or am I just following a script written before I was born?
The question sits in my gut like swallowed glass until we stop for the midday meal. I find them gathered in a loose circle near the edge of camp—Aspen, Malrik, Torric, and Finn, passing around travel bread and dried meat. They look up as I approach, and something in their expressions tells me they've been talking about me.
"Everything alright?" Aspen asks, his ice-blue eyes scanning my face with that annoying ability to see through my bullshit.
I settle cross-legged between Finn and Malrik, dragging my shadows close like armor. "I need to tell you what Callum said last night."
The atmosphere shifts immediately, tension crackling between us like static before a storm.
"When did you talk to Callum?" Torric's voice is sharp, already shifting toward protective mode.
"At the lake. While I was..." Heat crawls up my neck. "Bathing."
The reaction is immediate and explosive.
"Hewhat?" Torric surges to his feet, flames literally licking around his shoulders. "That piece of shit cornered you while you were—"
"Where the fuck was his patrol supposed to be?" Aspen's voice has gone deadly quiet, which is somehow worse than Torric's shouting. Ice spreads from his feet in sharp, angry patterns.
"Guys—"
“I’m going to rip his fucking throat out,” Torric snarls, already halfway to standing before Malrik’s shadows whip forward like a leash.
"Get in line," Malrik says, his shadows writhing around him like living weapons.
Even Finn looks murderous, his usual humor nowhere to be found. "What exactly did that bastard say to you?"
I hold up my hands, trying to calm them down before they march off to commit actual murder. "He said Darian was my final bond. That the choice was never mine. That it was decided before I was born."
The words hit like a bomb going off. Aspen stiffens, ice condensing around his hands. Torric's cursing becomes more creative and violent. Malrik watches me carefully, letting the others react first.
But it's Finn who leans forward, his voice unexpectedly gentle despite the fury still burning in his eyes: "That's bullshit, Kaia. Bonds respond toyou. Not the other way around."
"But what if—"
"No." Malrik's voice cuts through my spiral. "Your magic didn't settle until you made the choice to bond with me. With us. That wasn't fate, that was you."
“Was it?” I say, bitter. “Or was I always going to end up here, no matter what I wanted?”
"Does it matter?" Torric demands, his golden eyes blazing. "You chose. That's what counts."
I want to believe them. Want to trust that the warmth in my chest when I look at each of them is real, not some cosmic manipulation I'm too blind to see.
"I don't want to be told what I'm meant for," I say, the words scraping my throat raw. "I want to choose it. I want to chooseyou."
The words hang in the air like a promise and a threat. Malrik's hand finds mine, steady and warm. Aspen's expression softens. Torric nods once, fierce and certain.
