Page 5 of A Sweet Destruction

And the Bond alongside her. That mysterious, powerful entity that had turned grown adults into primal, possessive creatures—most recently dismantling two Royals and their entire upbringing of stringent perfection in a matter of weeks.

A disbelieving laugh collapsed my chest as I stared at the blank space Esme used to occupy.

To think I’d thought myself above that. That paranima was simply a designation, not something I was. Thinking I was above all the nonsense that had slapped pairs silly for years before me and Esme.

Eight years of thinking it just never appeared, or worse, that the first time I met Esme had been so mutually contemptuous that the Bond decided it wasn’t worth it to enter our relationship.

No, no, just me. That crack in my soul widened as a powerful wave of self pity washed over me, realizing that I was capable of scaring away something as precious as a gift from the Goddess, and drag Esme into that mess too.

If I’d thought any of the trials of the previous years were tough, it was clear the battle had just begun—and not the one we were facing down with another planet.

Chapter 3

Esme

The second I stepped outside, needing the fresh air to get away from Ford’s rich and deep scent, I saw Bellamy’s form hovering in the shadows.

I appreciated her, so deeply. She was a sister to me, same as Soren was a brother. Or at least that was how I characterized the love I held for them. I could only imagine what familial love felt like.

Freya and I were twins in that regard, two orphans shoved into this war way too young. Freya as an anomaly, me as a weapon.

Bellamy was stalling and I knew she was torn between trying to comfort me and seeking out comfort herself after the day she’d had. She’d been two minutes out of the hospital bed when everything went to shit—our camp burning down around us and a dark promise from Elijah that Muli was about to launch a full fledged assault on the Bridge.

If I wasn’t personally familiar with the eerie healing powers of the Bond—especially when one was injured in defense of their paranima, I’d wonder how she was standing on her leg, seeing as it had been pierced clean through with an arrow less than two days ago.

God, seeing the sheer panic on Soren’s face when he crashed into camp with her on Lucky’s back…maybe that was the first step towards my collapse into insanity. A stitch ripped open that allowed my bloodied feelings to seep out.

It was that thought that had me waving a hand at her through the night sky, letting her know I was okay, but sending her back to her love. She needed time with Soren to heal, to rest.

It wasn’t purely selfless, sending her away.

I knew that despite all the kindness and love in her body, she knew what it was like to live apart from your Soul Mate. When she’d taken on a betrothal to the infamous Muli prince, setting aside her paranima for the good of Vir, I’d seen the toll it took on her.

A mere few days, and yet it seemed to ravage her soul down to the bone.

She would be inclined to pity me, at least a little bit. I’d done plenty of feeling sorry for myself, stuck in a depressive haze that stole weeks at a time.

No, now I was mad. I would fight this.

I knew what was coming for me this time, and I could rely on Bellamy or Soren to keep me in check. They knew how it was, how easily it could make you crazy.

I could almost hear Soren’s voice now, scoffing with that haughty royal intonation he couldn’t truly lose no matter how hard he tried, while he said, “Oh, I’m not getting in the middle of that again.”

Or Bellamy’s, dipping into a soft, mellow tone as she said, “Of course. Anything to help.”

I would ask for help this time, before it was too late. I would not let this destroy me again, even as I felt the back of my mind start to tingle like an unused limb fighting back from sleep.

I pushed away the tightness in my throat, looking at the destruction that lay before me. Our cabin was the least of my concerns, reduced to a pile of ashes.

Adapting to new, terrifying, soul-shattering environments was as ingrained in my spirit as anything else. I could see a path forward, find a little comfort in knowing we could hunt and forage as needed, that I’d have a tent to sleep in tonight at the very least.

The others—some of which were freshly into adulthood—would be shaken to their core by this. Their stress would skyrocket, and that was where mistakes were made. Mistakes that could lead to—

To an outcome I couldn’t think about right now, not when guilt was trying its damnedest to crawl over my skin.

I hadn’t heard a peep about these plans through my network of connections. What was that extensive web if not a trap to prevent this very thing from happening?

I tried, though. I could at least say that. I’d had a bad feeling about Elijah from the second I met him, so I’d sent a few feelers out. I’d heard wild stories ranging from him being the young princess’s betrothed to an orphan who was trained by the Muli royal family to do their bidding.