27. Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Seven
Felix
I wasn’t snooping. Let’s just get that clear right now.
I was walking. Taking a break. Stretching my legs. The healer’s equivalent of a palate cleanse. You patch up three bruised ribs, mend a dislocated shoulder, and then talk a Hellwrought boy out of sawing his own horns off because he thinks they’re “uneven”—tell me you don’t need air.
So no—I wasn’t snooping.
I just… happened to walk past the archives.
And I just… happened to see Eva.
She was sitting at the big oak table with Ness, her copper hair glowing in the lamplight, her brow furrowed as she concentrated on the glass sphere between her palms. Riftlight shimmered faintly inside it, pulsing in time with her breath.
And Drake? Drake was pretending to read in the corner like the world’s worst spy. He wasn’t even subtle about it—boots up, arms crossed, staring at her like she’d invented the concept of air.
The sphere flared. Bright. Too bright. Eva gasped, but didn’t let go. And in that moment, I felt it: not just her Rift, but his. Tangled. Anchored. Ness’s quill scratched furiously as they muttered something about “bonded resonance” and “not a typical bond.”
And Drake—oh, he froze. Like someone had nailed him to the floor. Silver eyes locked on her, jaw clenched, the picture of a man who’d just been caught with both hands in the Rift jar.
Eva, Gods bless her, just looked confused. Tired. Like she was trying to puzzle out a riddle that no one had given her the answer key for. She even touched his hand, whispered, “You okay?”
And the bastard lied.
“I’m fine,” he said, voice all tight and brittle.
I nearly barged in right there. Instead, I kept walking, because I knew I’d find him later. And sure enough, I did.
I caught him in the corridor an hour later, pacing like a caged wolf, running his hand through his hair hard enough to pull strands free.
“Careful, Captain,” I said, leaning against the wall. “At this rate, you’ll be bald before thirty.”
He scowled. “Not now, Felix.”
“Now is exactly the time.” I pushed off the wall and stepped into his path. “What the fuck was that in there?”
He stiffened. “I don’t?—”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” I cut in, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Bonded resonance, Drake. Ness said it clear as day. Eva’s magic tethered itself to yours in front of three witnesses, and you just sat there acting like you ate something sour.”
His mouth opened, then closed. For once, the great Captain Eldrake didn’t have a comeback.
“Does she know?” I asked.
Silence.
“Godsdammit,” I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “You haven’t told her.”
“It’s complicated,” he muttered.
“No, it’s not!” I snapped. “You’re bonded. She deserves to know. Every second you keep it from her, you’re digging yourself deeper into a hole you won’t be able to crawl out of. And guess who’s going to have to patch your sorry scaled hide back together when she finds out you’ve been lying?”
He glared, but I didn’t flinch. “You don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand just fine,” I said, softer now. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. Like you finally found something worth living for. And I’ve seen the way she looks at you, like she trusts you with the whole Godsdamn world. She already loves you, you idiot.”
His throat bobbed, but he didn’t speak.
I sighed, clapped him on the shoulder. “Drake. Brother. You’ve fought armies without flinching. Don’t be a coward now.”
He dropped his gaze, jaw tight. I could feel the storm building in him, all tangled guilt and longing.
“Do it,” I said. “If you don’t tell her, I will.”
That got his eyes snapping back up, molten silver, furious. But beneath the fury? Fear.
Good. Maybe fear would get through to him.
I smirked, stepping back. “Lucky for you, I love your dumb ass, and I’m leaving for a mission for a few days. Otherwise, I’d let this whole mess blow up in your face just to watch it happen.”
“Felix—” he started, warning in his tone.
I cut him off with a grin. “Nope. Don’t Felix me. Go get your shit together, Captain Bonded. I’ll see you at dinner.”
And with that, I left him standing there, bristling and silent, while I whistled my way toward the kitchens. Because Gods help me, I’d go mad if I didn’t find a pastry soon.
The kitchens were half-empty by the time I made it down. A few night-shift guards hunched over mugs of broth, a scullery boy was elbow-deep in suds, and the ovens glowed low, their heat bleeding into the stone.
I made a beeline for the pastry basket, muttering a little prayer under my breath. The Gods, apparently, favored me tonight—there were still three honey rolls left. I took two. Drake stresses me out; I needed both.
I tore into the first, the glaze sticking to my fingers. Sweet. Comforting. Predictable. Exactly what I needed after lecturing a seven-foot dragon-man about his feelings.
And then—voices.
Fen’s. Low. Edged, even when she wasn’t trying.
Avod’s. Warmer. Laughing at something she said.
I froze mid-bite, ears pricking like a nosy cat.
They were at the far end of the hall, leaning close over the long counter where the knives were kept.
Fen had her blade out, rolling it between her fingers with casual menace.
Avod said something I didn’t catch, and she smirked—actually smirked—before giving him a shove with her shoulder.
He didn’t budge. Just grinned at her like she’d handed him a treasure.
And here’s the thing: Fen didn’t bite his head off. She didn’t scowl, or snap, or storm away. She just… let him look at her like that.
I stuffed the last of the roll in my mouth, chewed, and leaned against the doorframe, pretending to be very interested in the brickwork.
Gods, I hoped she’d let him in someday. Avod had the patience for it—he’d wait as long as it took. But Fen… Fen was all blade and iron. She didn’t know what to do with warmth. Not yet.
I licked the glaze from my thumb and sighed. That’s what made me ache, I think. Watching someone I loved keep herself locked up when the key was right there in front of her.
Maybe that’s why I was rooting so hard for Drake and Eva. Because sometimes, the Rift didn’t just tear things apart—it stitched them together. And maybe, just maybe, it would do the same for Fen.
I pushed off the wall, grabbed another honey roll for the road, and headed back toward my quarters. Tomorrow, Fen and I would be riding out together. And if she caught me looking at her like Avod did, she’d probably stab me for it.
Still. I’d take the risk. Because someone had to keep loving her until she figured out how to love herself.