Chapter 31 #2
I reach for my throat, my pulse quickening as memories wash over me—I had been screaming.
Hot tears spill from my eyes, tracing warm trails down my cheeks as the reality of what I experienced, what I saw, what was demanded of me, crashes over me.
I had come so close to losing everything, and it was Anders who had saved me.
It was Anders who reached into the dark, into that all-consuming fire, and rescued me. He reaches out, wrapping a hand around my waist, and gently tugs me between his outstretched legs.
Something has changed between us. This change in intimacy and friendship blurs the lines.
My lips quiver as the hold I had on my emotions breaks.
I crumble, burying my face in his chest, tears soaking into his shirt as he holds me tightly against him.
I sob for everything I’ve endured, the horrors of the last few days, and the thought of never seeing any of these people I love again.
Just when I think I’ve reached the end, fresh waves of grief and confusion sweep in.
I had made myself a promise to never be weak, and I couldn’t keep it when it mattered.
My body feels weak and cold, the kind that goes beyond logic, so cold that I feel as if I might never understand what being warm feels like.
I know it’s just the effect of trauma, but I tremble at the thought nonetheless.
Anders remains silent, anchoring me as my knees give out beneath me.
His arms are the only thing keeping me from collapsing entirely.
Time stretches, and the minutes bleed together until I finally feel strong enough to stand on my own.
When I finally look up, I find nothing but understanding etched on Anders’ features.
He cups my face tenderly, brushing away the remnants of my tears with gentle fingers.
As we stand there, it feels as if the world outside has faded away, leaving just the two of us wrapped in a cocoon of our Bond’s iridescent light.
For the first time since noticing them, I smile softly at the beauty of all the colors. The muted purples and wispy greens intertwined with soft pinks and blues all faded beneath a shimmering white cloud. It’s so unlike the dark shadows I almost died in.
My tears dry as his hands find their way back to my waist, settling there as if that’s where they belong.
“I’m grateful I found you,” he confesses.
I watch as he grapples with memories—assumingly those of finding me—his jaw flexes, and his grip tightens slightly.
“I sensed that something was wrong. I heard you screaming—”
“Wait,” I cut in with confusion. “What exactly happened? My memory feels like a hazy dream.”
He runs a hand up my spine, causing goosebumps to break out over my skin, and I lean my head against his chest, allowing him to hold me against him.
His warmth seeps into me, and to my utter surprise, it chases away the chill that feels bone-deep.
I’m sure things will return to normal tomorrow.
Right now, though, I plan to savor this moment of vulnerability and honesty between us.
His heartbeat is a steady thump beneath my ear as he begins to recount the events of the past few days.
The timbre of his deep voice is soft and soothing, as he continues to gently run his fingers along my spine, touching me as if he is afraid to let go.
He starts with the night his team received the notification about Cresnigan before heading to bed.
He continues with waking up to a frantic Kellan.
I remain silent, my hand resting against his chest, listening as he opens up about his father. Shock and then empathy wash over me, and my heart breaks for him.
“I’ve known about my father, or at least had an idea about what happened, since he went missing.
I couldn’t be certain, but once I realized you were gone…
” He exhales heavily, his hand moving up to cradle the nape of my neck.
“It felt like instinct; I don’t know how else to explain it.
I realized I had to get to you. It was reckless and irrational, but I knew it had to be me. ”
His words swirl in my mind, and I sense that I know what he’s talking about, that it had to be him. I don’t think anyone else would have made it. Though the notion that anyone could survive Sgya seems almost unfathomable. I’m still struggling to believe it myself.
“Raea, I found something in the books,” he murmurs. “I was going to tell you, but then you were dealing with your cycle, and then this.” There’s sorrow there, not because of his father, but over me. “I think…” he pauses. “I think that the prophecy we found is about us. Which means—”
My chest aches, but my heart flips excitedly that he’s allowing me in.
I reach for his hand, intertwining my fingers with his, not shying away from the energy this time.
The familiar energy flows between us, but now I realize something I hadn’t known before.
The energy feels remarkably similar to the raw energy of Sgya, as if it’s all part of the same network; yet this feels dull and manageable.
It’s another thing to add to the growing list of questions.
“That we’re fated to Bond?” I ask with a little squeak.
I bravely glance up at him, craning my neck, and my heart nearly skips a beat at the look in his eyes. The guarded masks he wears like a second skin have vanished, leaving behind a raw and vulnerable Anders, his gaze silently pleading with me to stay, not to pull away.
For too long, I’ve dismissed the strength of our connection, yet hearing him articulate this pull ignites a warmth that flushes my cheeks. The brooding hot prince could become my husband? I almost giggle at the chance that Anders is the one I’d be destined to Bond with.
“We still have to go through The Ceremony. It might not even be us,” he assures me, though I catch the hope in his tone.
I nod slowly, understanding that he’s trying to soothe the tension between us; still, I can’t help but feel the gravity of it.
In all my studies and research, I have yet to find anything that captures the unusual intensity of what I share with him.
I think I’ve known from the beginning, deep down, that it was more than just a regular Bond, even on the first day of school, though I’ve done a lousy job accepting it.
He finishes recounting the events that unfolded in the clearing, the impenetrable wall of shadows that kept my lower half shielded from sight, and the way the mist had completely enveloped me.
He shares, with a bit of guilt, that Trysten had remained unconscious across the field, but he had chosen me.
Anders didn’t hesitate to reach for me, feeling the power burning within me, and instinctively, like his body knew what to do, he began channeling it out.
As he did, he watched as the shadows and mist retreated.
He finishes off by retelling those short minutes before we had to get back to the transport.
I can’t bear to meet his gaze, the weight of my actions crashing down on me.
I not only struck Trysten for yanking me out of Anders’ arms, but also allowed myself to curl up against him for comfort and sleep beside him on the bunk.
Though I wonder if there’s more to it as I watch some memory cross his eyes.
When he’s finished, he gently brushes a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear in the same way he’s done countless times before.
“What did you tell them? They want to question me.” I attempt to divert the conversation.
Avoidance feels like the safest path for now, but I’m not ready to let go of him just yet.
Whatever he sees in my eyes has him leaning down, wrapping his palms around my thighs, lifting and spinning me to the table, and stepping between my thighs before pulling me firmly against his chest. My breath catches in my throat, and my toes curl at the heat I find in his gaze.
I lean back on my palms, attempting to put some distance between us despite my body coming alive. I’m still dressed in nothing but a modest nightgown. Still, it’s just soft fabric with no underthings.
“We all agreed to keep it simple for now.” His gaze drops to my mouth.
“Your transport was in hyperjump when it got trapped by Sgya’s gravitational pull, and you crashed.
You saved Trysten. We only found you by sheer luck, picking up your heat signatures.
We managed to escape before anyone realized we were ever there.
” He shrugs nonchalantly, as though what transpired was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
I have no doubt that every kingdom will know about this by tomorrow.
His hands wrap around me, lifting me back to him, my breasts nearly brushing him. I gulp down the simmering desire building in my core. “So, no mention of your father’s notes? Or the nightmarish shadows that sought to pull me into that glowing tree?”
A disbelieving chuckle escapes my lips as I run a palm down his chest, feeling every toned muscle beneath. Our chests brush together as I lean in, looking up to fully face him, and I wish I could crawl back into bed with him at my side.
The desire to be near him is a consuming force of its own.
It’s unlike any emotion I’ve ever experienced.
It almost feels like an essential urge woven into the very fabric of my being, as necessary as breath itself.
He lets out a soft hum, his gaze shifting toward the door momentarily before returning to me, filled with a restlessness of unspoken thoughts.
I’m not sure if he’s aware of his hands, but they move to my hips, his thumbs making idle circles on the lower section of my abdomen.
“There’s also notes about your magic, or at least I think it’s your magic.
” A flicker of something unreadable crosses his face as I tug him closer, wrapping my legs around his.
His eyes drift down to where our bodies are joined.