Page 67 of Shadows Rising

The truth is, I’m not fine. Not even a little bit.

The bond between Kaia and Aspen feels… right. Settled. Like it was always meant to be that way.

I check the walls for more shadows. Count the torches. One, two, three—fuck, my hands are shaking.

Because none of us got a real choice, did we? Not after the Hall of Echoes. Not after Kieran forced the issue.

“I mean, I chose Kaia. Chose her that night she fell asleep surrounded by her shadows, if I’m being honest with myself—which I’m absolutely not going to be. But the others? Kieran took that choice away from them.”

Took it away from her.

No, that’s not fair. Maybe she would have picked Aspen anyway. Maybe she would have—

I didn’t want this. Didn’t want to feel it. Didn’t want to know what it’s like when they—

But I did. I felt every second. How he touched her. How she responded. How the bond between them locked into place like the final piece of a puzzle I’m not part of.

I’m not jealous.

I’m fucking devastated.

Wait, no. I’m not. I’m just tired. Mildly annoyed. Perfectly healthy emotional response to magical voyeurism.

I press my back against the cold stone wall, letting my head thump against it. Once. Twice. The third time actually hurts, which feels oddly appropriate.

“I made my choice that night she fell asleep surrounded by her shadows,” I whisper to the empty hallway. “Watching her finally look peaceful, realizing I’d do anything to keep her that way. I just didn’t realize how fast the world would take that choice away from her.”

The bond pulses once, quiet and distant. Not gone, but settled. Stabilized.

And somehow, that’s scarier than if it had disappeared entirely.

Because now? Now it feels like watching the tide go out, knowing the wave that’s coming back will drown everything in its path.

I push off the wall, shaking out my arms like I can physically cast off the feeling crawling under my skin.

"Yeah, sure, magical soul-bond sex echo," I mutter to myself, forcing a grin that feels brittle. "Just what I needed to get through the day. That and maybe three bottles of wine."

Actually, fuck the wine. I need something that won't make me think. Something that won't remind me of bonds and choices and everything I'm apparently not part of.

I head for the kitchens instead.

Twenty minutes later, I'm emerging with an armload of travel cakes, dried fruit, and what might be chocolate but could also be some kind of preserved meat. My arms are so full I can barely see over the pile, which is probably why I nearly walk straight into Malrik as I turn the corner.

He's standing there like he was waiting for me, silver eyes dark with something I recognize because I'm feeling it too. We're both breathing a little too hard, both still processing what we just experienced through the bond.

His gaze drops to my ridiculous haul of food, one eyebrow arching. "Finn, what—"

"What?" I say, stuffing a crumbling square into my mouth before any of it can fall. "Survival Tip #2. Don't forget the snacks. Ancient evil is exhausting work."

For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. The air between us crackles with tension—not just the shared aftermath of Kaia and Aspen's intimacy, but something else. Something that's been building since that kiss we shared, since all the moments we've been dancing around each other.

"Don't," I warn, but my voice comes out rougher thanintended.

“Don’t what?” His tone is carefully controlled, but I can see the crack in his composure. The way his hands are clenched at his sides like he’s fighting not to reach for something.

“Whatever you’re thinking. Whatever you’re about to say.”

He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. “You think you know what I’m thinking?”

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