Chapter 12 #3
“And it’s all instinct, right? Bonding, connection, all that.”
“Also yep.”
I hesitate again, then push through it because, apparently, I’ve decided today is the day I say things I normally wouldn’t.
“So where does love fit into that?”
Sonny goes still. He doesn’t answer straight away, which is probably the most serious I’ve ever seen him. “Huh,” he says eventually, scratching at his jaw. “That’s actually a decent question.”
“Cheers,” I mutter. “Don’t get used to it.” I huff a quiet breath.
He shifts his weight, looking out over the same stretch of land I’ve been staring at like he’s piecing his answer together properly. “All right,” he says. “So—fated mates. Yeah, there’s instinct. Biology. The bond. That whole ‘you’re mine, I’m yours’ thing baked in from the start.”
“Sounds healthy,” I mutter.
“It can be,” he says, glancing at me. “Or it can be a disaster if the people involved are idiots.”
“Sounds about right.”
He grins briefly, then sobers again. “But love…,” he continues, slower now, more thoughtful. “That’s not guaranteed.”
I look at him properly at that. “It’s not?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nah. The bond gives you the connection. The pull. The… framework, I guess. But what you do with it? That’s still on you.”
Huh. “That’s… surprisingly reasonable,” I admit.
“Shocking, I know.”
I snort.
He nudges a rock with his boot, then looks back at me. “With me and Kael,” he says, “it wasn’t exactly smooth.”
I glance at him. “Yeah?”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “My mate didn’t even show up for two years.”
I blink. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, still sounding faintly offended about it. “I’m here, dragged through a bloody rift, trying not to die, and my supposed ‘fated mate’ is already in this world and just… doesn’t bother.”
“Harsh.”
“Very,” he agrees. “Didn’t even know he existed at that point. Just thought I was having a rough go of it on my own.”
I snort softly. “And then?”
“And then I see him,” Sonny says, his expression shifting slightly. Not softer exactly, but more grounded. “And it just—clicked.” He taps his chest lightly. “Didn’t understand it. Didn’t trust it either. But there was this pull, and I couldn’t ignore it… despite trying to.”
I nod, because yeah. I get that.
“But I didn’t just roll over and go, ‘Oh yeah, destiny, let’s go,’” he adds quickly. “No chance. Bloke had to work for it.”
That pulls a grin out of me. “Good.”
“Too right,” he says. “He’d been here all that time, building his own life, doing his own thing. Meanwhile, I’ve just been trying not to get eaten. He wasn’t getting a free pass.”
“Fair.”
“But the feelings?” Sonny continues, a little quieter now. “That wasn’t just the bond doing the heavy lifting. That was us. Choosing each other. Every step of the way.”
I nod slowly, letting that settle.
“So you think…” I hesitate, then push through it. “You think it’s separate?”
He tilts his head. “I think it overlaps.”
“Helpful,” I tease, but I get what he’s saying.
“I try,” he says dryly. Then, softer, he adds, “Look, different species, different bonds…. It probably feels different for everyone.”
That makes sense.
“Humans don’t have this,” he adds, gesturing vaguely between us. “No bond. No instinct screaming at us. So for us, love’s just… feeling. Choice. Connection.”
“And now you’ve got both,” I say.
“Yeah,” he replies. “And honestly? It’s a bit of a mindfuck.”
I laugh at that. “Good to know I’m not alone.”
“Definitely not.” He studies me for a second, then his tone shifts just slightly. “You happy?” he asks.
I don’t hesitate. “Yeah,” I say.
And I mean it. Properly. It’s not just something I’m saying to fill space or make it easier on someone else. It feels solid in my chest, undeniable.
It’s also the first time I’ve admitted it to myself, let alone anyone else.
Something I should probably tell Varek.
The thought is… a bit mad, honestly. We’re in the middle of a full-blown rebellion, death lurking around every corner, and here I am—what? Soft? Content?
But maybe that’s the point.
If you can’t hold on to the good when everything else is trying to kill you, then when the hell can you?
He nods once. “Then who gives a shit what you call it?”
“True that.” I bob my head.
“If it feels right,” he adds, shrugging, “if it’s good, if it’s not hurting you… then maybe don’t overthink it to death.”
I exhale slowly, some of that tightness in my chest easing. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “Yeah, all right.”
Sonny grins. “Look at that. Personal growth.”
“Don’t start.”
“Too late.”
I shake my head, but there’s a small smile there now, easier than before.
A flicker at the edge of awareness draws my attention. Movement where there shouldn’t be.
I frown, turning my head slightly. “Do you—” I start.
A figure breaks into view at the far edge of the path.
Running.
Fast.
Not training.
Not casual.
Urgent.
Sonny sees it at the same time I do. His entire posture changes. Relaxed, easy-going Sonny disappears in an instant, replaced by something sharper, one that’s focused and ready.
“Shit,” he mutters.
The runner gets closer, breath ragged, eyes wide—
And then an alarm sounds. It cuts through the air, loud and unfamiliar, a rising, piercing tone that sets every nerve in my body on edge. I’ve never heard it before, but I don’t need to ask what it means.
Sonny is already moving. “Arms,” he snaps, all trace of humour gone. “That’s a call to arms.”
My stomach drops. “What the fuck—?”
“Someone’s here who shouldn’t be,” he says, already scanning the surroundings, calculating. “Or—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to because I already know the alternative.
The Crown.
Full-scale attack.
Sonny exhales hard, rolling his shoulders as he turns towards the settlement. “Let’s hope it’s the former,” he mutters.
Yeah. Let’s fucking hope.