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Should I even bother explaining that I was waiting up? That something felt off to me that night?

Initially, I hoped it might prove that I care more for Caelan than the chance to escape Father’s clutches, but now I’m not so sure.

If they find out I had any inclination that a trap was being set, they’ll twist my words like they twist everything else. They’ll make assumptions based on their own beliefs. They’ll accuse me of coming up with excuses.

No, it’s safer to keep that part to myself.

Vae lifts a piece of toast with long, dexterous fingers. It’s homemade bread, dripping with butter and perfectly toasted.

I stare at it longingly. I don’t care if it’s obvious how badly I want it. My pride’s hanging on by a thread as it is. What’s one more humiliation?

He places it on my plate.

One piece. A single slice of toast.

It looks sad there. Small and lonely on the white china, while their plates overflow with eggs, bacon, fruit, and pastries. The contrast feels deliberate.

It’s small, sad, and alone. Just like me.

I don’t even care.

My relief is a physical thing. My eyes burn with tears, and I snatch the toast with greedy fingers, not caring when crumbs scatter everywhere, or when butter drips down my wrist and onto my only outfit. I don’t care about anything except the warm bread in my hands and how amazing it smells.

“That was hardly an answer,” Silas grumbles with a pout, but Vae glares at him.

I’m halfway through my second bite, mind fuzzy with relief, when Cage plucks the toast straight out of my hand. He places it on my plate and then slowly, purposely, slides the plate away from me.

I fist my hands in my dress and try not to scream.

“What do you mean that you felt Caelan in the house?” Silas picks up the line of questioning.

I open my mouth. Close it.

Then decide to tell them the truth.

“I felt him. In my chest. It was like…”

I pause, considering how to explain the impossible. How do I explain that something inside of me, part of my soul, stretched and stretched until it found a place inside Caelan? How do I explain that way it latched on, anchoring his soul to mine?

How do I make them understand how perfectly right it felt having him near me? How do I explain that for once in my life, nothing hurt. Because all I could feel was him.

Turns out, I don’t need to come up with the right words.

The room explodes in laughter.

Cage and Silas look like I just told them the most outlandish joke they’ve ever heard.

Their noise echoes in my ears, until all I can hear is their world-less mocking.

I told them the truth—possibly the most important truth I’ve ever spoken out loud—and they’re laughing at me.

My vision tunnels until all I can see are their faces. All I can hear is their laughter. I feel small. Stupid. Like I’m a joke. Like my Bond with Caelan is somehow… funny.

I just want them to stop. Stop laughing. I want to scream at them until they choke on their laughter.

But I don’t. Because nothing I say right now will matter.

I force my attention away from the duo, and my gaze falls on Vaelenor. He’s already studying me, moss green irises boring into mine.