Chapter 20 #6
I let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down my face. “For now.”
He hums in amusement. “I want to check on the healing.”
I don’t argue. I know he won’t let me get away with pretending I’m fine. Slowly, carefully, I shift upright, wincing as I adjust. Although Valen can’t heal with the same skill as healers, he can manage minor injuries, along with checking what has already been tended to.
Valen’s hands hover just above my ribs, his magics pressing into my skin, warm and steady. He works, the golden glow of healing flickering between his fingers. Then, after a long pause, he lifts an eyebrow. “You’re unusually quiet.”
I don’t respond.
He tilts his head slightly, as if assessing me, not just my injuries. “That’s concerning.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”
He chuckles but doesn’t push. For now.
I shift again, wincing as the ache flashes through my ribs. I press my lips together, debating. Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I say, “Valen . . . what do you know of a person feeling the pain or emotions of another person?”
“Do you mean a bond?” he asks without lifting his eyes.
I stiffen. “No, not a bond. I mean feeling what another person is feeling, like it’s their own.”
“That sounds like a bond.”
I swallow down the panic rising in my throat. “Fine, a bond then—”
He glances at me. “Depends on what kind of bond you’re asking about.”
I hesitate. “Thane said he felt it.”
Valen says nothing, waiting.
I exhale, my fingers curling in the blankets. “The battle. The pain. My injuries. He wasn’t there, but he said he felt it anyway.”
Valen’s eyes flick up, watching me carefully.
I swallow. “Like it was his.” The words land harder than I meant them to—like saying them aloud made them real.
Valen’s hands still for a moment before resuming his work, magics pulsing warm and steady over my ribs.
Then, without looking up, he says, “Yes. Thane told me what happened. What he felt.”
My breath catches. Of course, Thane told him. I study his face, but his expression remains neutral, unreadable.
“And?”
Valen finally meets my gaze. “And I was hoping you’d be the one to tell me how you feel about it.”
I stare at him, searching for any kind of reaction. Some kind of explanation. But he just watches me, his gaze steady, waiting.
I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “We’re not dragons, Valen.”
His gaze doesn’t waver. “No. But maybe the dragons weren’t the only ones capable of that kind of bond. Maybe we just forgot.”
“People don’t bond to people.” My voice comes out harder than I intend, laced with something ugly and familiar—frustration, doubt, maybe even fear.
Valen doesn’t react immediately. Then, with the kind of patience that makes me want to throw something at him, he simply says, “Apparently, you do.”
I press my lips into a thin line, my fingers tightening in the blankets. “And what does that mean?”
Now, he exhales, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “That’s what I’d like to know.” Valen leans forward slightly, fingers steepled, eyes narrowed in thought. “Maybe it’s because you’re bonded to a dragon.”
I frown. “What?”
He shrugs, his eyes sharp with thought. “We talked about how your magics could change. How you could change.”
My pulse kicks up, but I shake my head, dismissing it. “That’s different. That’s about Elemental power, not—this.” Valen doesn’t argue. Just watches me. Waiting.
The silence grates on my nerves.
I push myself up a little more, wincing as the motion pulls at my ribs. “And what about Thane?”
Valen lifts a brow. “What about him?”
I gesture vaguely. “He felt it. This so-called bond. But I don’t. So how does that make sense?”
Valen tilts his head slightly, watching me too closely. “Maybe you’re not ready to feel it yet.”
The words send a shiver down my spine, though I don’t know why. I scoff, forcing out a breath. “Or maybe there’s nothing to feel at all.”
It should sound convincing. But it isn’t.
Because I feel him in the way my pulse quickens when he walks into a room.
In the way his voice grounds me, steadies me, even when I don’t want it to.
In the way his hands grip too tightly, the way his jaw clenches when he’s holding something back, the way his eyes—gods, his eyes—always find me, always see me.
I drag a hand through my hair, frustration simmering beneath my skin. “What does it mean, Valen?”
He exhales, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”
I blink, caught off guard. “You don’t know?”
Valen lifts a brow. “Did I stutter?”
I glare at him. “You’re the one who’s supposed to have answers.”
“And yet, I don’t. There are many things I don’t know, and I will always pursue that knowledge.” He withdraws his hands and leans back, studying me. “Which means, for now, we wait. We pay attention. And see what happens.”
I hate that answer. I hate waiting. I hate not knowing. I hate—
A pit forms in my stomach, slow and creeping.
What if I never feel it back?
The thought slams into me, cold and unwelcome.
What if it’s only him?
My fingers tighten in the blankets, my throat suddenly dry.
Valen doesn’t say anything—doesn’t need to. He just watches as the worry seeps into my face, as my mind turns over the one thing I hadn’t let myself consider. And that scares me.
I want to feel it back.