Page 71 of Death Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

I got a flash, brief and unwanted, of Cal’s attention on me. On my mouth. On the line of my throat. On the kind of closeness that had never existed between us before.

I had always found him attractive in a normal way. In a way you filed away under not my problem.

This was not filed away.

This was alive. Immediate. Hungry in the most inconvenient sense.

My body reacted before my brain could scold it. Heat pooled in my cheeks. My stomach flipped. My mouth went dry.

I had the sudden, ridiculous urge to plant a wet one on his lips.

The thought was so out of character it felt like a prank.

I yanked my focus back to the egg and tried to sever the connection out of sheer reflex.

The bond held.

The egg pulsed again, stronger this time, and the dark patches shuddered. One spot lightened at the edge, the spread slowing.

So the link was working.

That meant I could not cut it without risking the baby.

Cal’s voice was low, close. “Salima.”

I forced my eyes open.

He was watching me with a look I couldn’t read. Concern, yes. But also something softer, something that matched the unwanted pull humming under my skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Faith made a noise that was clearly disbelief.

Greyson’s gaze flicked between me and the egg. “What changed?”

“I bound it,” I said, voice strained.

Tegan leaned in, careful, studying the shell. “The spots are slowing.”

Eve exhaled, relief and frustration mixing. “Good. Keep it there.”

My hands stayed on the egg, because if I lifted them, I was afraid I’d lose the rhythm.

Cal crouched beside the safe, eyes fixed on the shell. His voice went quiet. “If it turns, the baby dies, and so do you.”

“I heard you,” I said, and my tone came out colder than I intended. My nerves were stretched thin, and now my own body was betraying me with inappropriate urges.

Cal’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Just making sure the room understands the stakes.”

Faith crossed her arms. “We understand. We also understand this is somehow your life now.”

Greyson rubbed his forehead. “Salima, can you maintain that bond?”

I hesitated, because the honest answer was complicated.

“I can,” I said slowly. “But it’s not passive. I’m feeding it. And the calling is still pressing.”