Page 18 of Before the Bond Breaks
Winter swiveled toward me with a soft smile. “Hey. You’re back.”
Her voice was light, but her eyes lingered on my face too long, the way they always did when she saw more than she should. Winter had the gift of visions, and her intuition was stronger than the rest of us. While she wasn’t a true telepath, sometimes I swore she’d read our minds.
“We are,” I said. “What’s the status?”
Winter’s fingers danced across her keyboard, bringing up a cascade of notes. Jessica’s ledger translated into broken lines of runes and coordinates. “First, Sybil, Kyley, and Rina are back. They’re upstairs with Nicky and Candra.” She frowned as sadness filtered over her features. “They’re…processing.”
A breath caught in my chest. I wanted to run upstairs, to fold myself into them, to feel their arms and their warmth and remember that we were still whole. But I couldn’t—not yet.
I clenched my jaw. “I’ll go up to see them in a few. Dustin Cultz is dead.” I filled them in on what Anna told us.
Winter frowned. “That’s unfortunate. I found something.” She clicked a few keys, and a photo appeared on the center monitor. “This is the Severing Stone.”
Talon’s energy shifted beside me, his wolf bristling. “What the hell is that?”
Winter shook her head. “Jessica had little. Just theories. She thought Balder was after it. She wrote it was tied to blood, binding, and…separation.”
Separation. My stomach churned. “Why would he want something like that?”
“Control,” Quil said from his seat. “If you can sever bonds, you can cut apart shifter-Valkyrie pairs. Break the foundation. Leave everyone vulnerable.”
Talon crossed his arms, muscles taut beneath his shirt. “Or use it to build something synthetic. An imitation bond without love or choice.”
I drew in a calming breath. “Whatever he wants, we can’t let him get it. Keep decoding. We need to get that stone before he does.”
Winter gave a tight nod. “Will do.”
The urge to see my sisters clawed harder at me now. I turned toward Talon. “I need to go upstairs.”
“I’m coming with you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “It will be emotional.”
His amber gaze didn’t waver, but it softened. “I’m good at dealing with emotions. The question is—are you?”
Damn him.
I didn’t comment as I turned and led the way to the elevator.
The doors to the penthouse slid open to warmth and chaos. The private top floor where my sisters and I lived was nothing like the sharp edges of the offices below. Here it smelled of rosemary and wine, with firelight spilling from the hearth. Voices echoed down the short hall that connected the foyer to the living area, low and familiar.
We entered the shared living space, and the sight nearly broke me.
Four of my sisters were curled on the massive sectional couch, tangled together in a mess of blankets, half-empty wine bottles, and too many plates of food. Sybil was perched on the armrest with another dish balanced on her lap, her white, blonde hair falling forward as she scolded Rina for drinking straight from the bottle. Kyley was making sarcastic commentary, while Candra and Nicky looked like they’d been halfway through an argument that dissolved into tears.
Home. Broken, grieving, but home.
I froze in the doorway. Talon stopped beside me, staying back as though the threshold marked a line he couldn’t cross.
At first, I thought he was keeping his distance out of caution, but a bunch of grieving Valkyries were no small thing. But then I realized it was something else. Respect. Space. A wolf waiting to be invited in.
My chest ached. Without thinking, I reached back and caught his hand, tugging him forward. He followed, gaze locked on mine, before I pulled him fully into our world.
I let him go only when I wedged myself between Nicky and Candra on the couch. My sisters closed around me instantly, arms wrapping, voices overlapping, warmth swallowing me whole. For the first time since Jessica’s death, I let myself sink into them.
Talon drifted toward the kitchen, silent as a shadow. He fixed himself a plate from the mountain of food Sybil had made. From the smell, I’d guess there was roast chicken, bread, cheeses, and something that smelled faintly of cinnamon. Talon settled at the counter where he could watch without intruding while he ate.
“Jess always hated when I cooked this much,” Sybil muttered, handing me a plate. “Said I made enough to feed Asgard.” Her hands trembled as she laughed, then broke into tears.
