Chapter 9 #2
A pressure that pushed back against my warmth, like the dark patches wanted to stay dense. Wanted to spread. Wanted to finish the job.
My breath hitched.
Eve’s voice was close. “Salima.”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
Faith leaned in. “You’re not fine.”
I pushed harder, letting more healing current pour through me. It burned in my veins, not painful exactly, but demanding.
The dark patches trembled.
For a heartbeat, the edge of one spot lightened, the color shifting toward the egg’s original gray.
“Good,” I whispered.
The pressure surged again, like whatever was pulling on the egg noticed my interference.
My hands shook.
I could stop. I should stop. Not because I didn’t want to help, but because forcing healing against an opposing current was like trying to hold a door shut while someone kicked it from the other side.
Then I felt it.
A link already existed here. A bond between Cal and the egg, thick with protection and grief, and hope.
If I could tap into that bond, I could reinforce it. I could share the load.
It was also the sort of thing that came with consequences.
I swallowed. “Cal.”
His voice was tight. “What?”
“I can stabilize this, but I need to bind myself to the egg. Temporarily.”
Faith’s head snapped toward me. “No.”
Greyson’s eyes narrowed. “That is not a small decision.”
Eve’s expression shifted. “Salima, think.”
I did think. Fast. Brutal.
A baby’s life weighed more than my comfort.
“I am thinking,” I said. “If I anchor the egg to my healing, I can keep the spots from spreading.”
Cal’s gaze locked on mine. “What does it do to you?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “But I know what happens if I don’t.”
Cal stared at the egg, then back at me. His jaw worked once, and something raw flickered in his eyes.
“Do it,” he said.
Faith swore under her breath, but she didn’t stop me.
I adjusted my hands on the shell and whispered a binding phrase under my breath, one I’d used in gentler forms before. Not for eggs. Not for this. It was more like a healer’s vow than a spell.
I pushed my magic into the egg’s rhythm and tied it to mine.
The moment the bond locked, the world tilted.
Not physically. Internally.
A surge of sensation hit me like a wave. Heat, stone, wings I didn’t have, and an ache so deep it felt ancient.
Cal.
I felt him.
Not his thoughts in clean sentences. His presence. His bond. The raw protective thread he kept wrapped around the egg like a shield.
And then, beneath that, something else.
Desire.
Not casual admiration. Not friendly banter.
A persistent, startling pull.
It was absurd and intimate, like walking into a room you thought was empty and finding someone already there, watching you.
My breath caught, and my hands nearly slipped off the shell.
I got a flash, brief and unwanted, of Cal’s attention on me. On my mouth. On the line of my throat. On the kind of closeness that had never existed between us before.
I had always found him attractive in a normal way. In a way you filed away under not my problem.
This was not filed away.
This was alive. Immediate. Hungry in the most inconvenient sense.
My body reacted before my brain could scold it. Heat pooled in my cheeks. My stomach flipped. My mouth went dry.
I had the sudden, ridiculous urge to plant a wet one on his lips.
The thought was so out of character it felt like a prank.
I yanked my focus back to the egg and tried to sever the connection out of sheer reflex.
The bond held.
The egg pulsed again, stronger this time, and the dark patches shuddered. One spot lightened at the edge, the spread slowing.
So the link was working.
That meant I could not cut it without risking the baby.
Cal’s voice was low, close. “Salima.”
I forced my eyes open.
He was watching me with a look I couldn’t read. Concern, yes. But also something softer, something that matched the unwanted pull humming under my skin.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Faith made a noise that was clearly disbelief.
Greyson’s gaze flicked between me and the egg. “What changed?”
“I bound it,” I said, voice strained.
Tegan leaned in, careful, studying the shell. “The spots are slowing.”
Eve exhaled, relief and frustration mixing. “Good. Keep it there.”
My hands stayed on the egg, because if I lifted them, I was afraid I’d lose the rhythm.
Cal crouched beside the safe, eyes fixed on the shell. His voice went quiet. “If it turns, the baby dies, and so do you.”
“I heard you,” I said, and my tone came out colder than I intended. My nerves were stretched thin, and now my own body was betraying me with inappropriate urges.
Cal’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Just making sure the room understands the stakes.”
Faith crossed her arms. “We understand. We also understand this is somehow your life now.”
Greyson rubbed his forehead. “Salima, can you maintain that bond?”
I hesitated, because the honest answer was complicated.
“I can,” I said slowly. “But it’s not passive. I’m feeding it. And the calling is still pressing.”
Eve’s eyes narrowed. “So we still have to find the relic.”
Nishi’s voice was clipped. “And whoever is cloaking it.”
Tegan’s expression turned grim. “If the relic is calling everything vulnerable, it makes sense the egg is being affected.”
Cal’s gaze slid to Tegan. “You mean it can hear the call?”
Tegan nodded once. “Yes.”
Cal’s jaw clenched. “Then it will not stop unless we stop the source.”
I stared at the egg, feeling its pulse under my palms, feeling the cold pressure trying to spread again every time my focus slipped.
My instincts screamed to cut the connection with Cal, to shove that unwanted intimacy back into whatever box it crawled out of.
I could not.
Not if I wanted the baby to live.
I breathed in slowly, then out, grounding myself in the simple reality.
“This is what’s happening,” I said, voice steadier now. “I’m bound to the egg. If I break it, the shell will start locking again. I need to maintain the connection until the baby hatches, or until we stop the call so the egg can stabilize on its own.”
Faith’s eyes narrowed. “How long until it hatches?”
Cal’s expression tightened. “Sooner than it was supposed to. Stress speeds things up.”
Of course it did.
Everything tonight was speeding up.
Eve looked at me, her expression softer than it had been in hours. “Can you handle being bound?”
I wanted to say yes. Clean and confident.
Instead, honesty won. “I can handle the magic. I’m not thrilled about the rest.”
Faith’s brows lifted. “The rest.”
I did not look at Cal. I focused on the egg and the slow lightening at the edge of the dark patch.
“The bond is… loud,” I said.
Greyson’s gaze focused, then flicked to Cal, then back to me. He looked like he understood more than I wanted him to.
Faith muttered, “Oh for the love of…”
Cal’s voice was quiet. “I’m sorry.”
That made it worse.
Because it sounded sincere.
And the absurd urge to kiss him surged again, as if my body was taking votes without my permission.
I tightened my grip on the egg, as if holding the shell could keep my mouth under control.
Nishi stepped back, already pulling out her phone. “I am updating Aurora. If the egg is being targeted indirectly, Scorchwood needs stronger perimeter wards.”
Greyson nodded. “I’ll reinforce the house wards too. If the calling is pushing at weak points, I want this place sealed.”
I kept my hands on the egg, felt the pulse, held the line. The dark spot stopped spreading. It didn’t vanish, but it paused, as if it had hit a wall made of stubborn healer magic and refused to admit defeat.
For now.
I lifted my eyes, finally, and met Cal’s gaze.
There was too much in it.
Hope. Fear. Gratitude. That unwanted pull.
I had the instinct to retreat, to shut it down, to return to the version of us that was simple. Friends. Allies. Occasional banter. No strange hunger sliding across my skin.
But the baby’s life sat under my hands, and the truth was clear.
I could cut the connection and protect my comfort.
Or I could keep it and protect the child.
I swallowed. “We find the relic,” I said, voice low. “We stop the calling. Until then, I’m the patch on the dam.”
Faith nodded, grim approval. “Good. Because if anything happens to that baby, I will burn the world down.”
Eve snorted, but it sounded more like relief than humor.
Cal’s gaze stayed on me, and the bond hummed again, insistent.
I did not kiss him.
I wanted to.
That was the problem.
Instead, I focused on the egg’s steady pulse and accepted the new reality.
I was bound.
And until the baby hatched, I was going to feel everything that came with it.