FOUR #3
His expression softens again. “We are mates.” The certainty in his voice is absolute, certain as though he’s describing gravity or the sky or the mountains surrounding us.
Facts.
The thread beneath my ribs hums quietly in agreement.
I choose to ignore it. Mostly because I have larger concerns.
“How?”
His gaze drifts briefly towards our joined hands. “Two bonds are complete.”
I blink. “I’m sorry. Two what?”
“Four bonds.”
Right. Of course there are four.
Why would there be one simple magical soulmate connection when there could instead be paperwork?
The Hendroy continues as though this explanation makes perfect sense. “You saved me.”
The words emerge with complete certainty.
I open my mouth to argue, then close it again because technically I did.
The tree. The rockslide. The very questionable decision-making.
Damn it.
“You have my blood.”
My gaze immediately drops to the graze on my hand. Well fuck, that’s concerning.
The male remains completely serious. “The bond recognised both.”
The room feels very quiet. Very still. The weight of his words settles over me while my exhausted brain attempts to process them.
Eventually, I give up. Because honestly? I’ve travelled between worlds, met a shadow monster, learned about magical soulmate bonds, and somehow survived all of it.
At this point, four bonds barely crack the top ten strangest things I’ve heard today.
A yawn sneaks up on me. Huge and mortifying.
The male immediately notices. His gaze softens when he says, “You need sleep.”
I want to argue. I really do. Instead, another yawn ambushes me.
Traitor.
He rises smoothly from the bed. “I will protect you.”
The words should feel dramatic. Instead, they feel inevitable, as though there was never any possibility of another outcome. The strange thing is that I believe him completely as every action he’s taken since meeting me points to the same conclusion: He cares.
The knowledge settles warmly inside my chest.
I shift further onto the bed, exhaustion finally catching up with me. The pelts are softer than they have any right to be, and between the lingering warmth from the bond and the sheer emotional exhaustion of the day, my eyelids are becoming increasingly difficult to keep open.
The male starts to withdraw his hand.
I tighten my grip instinctively, my fingers closing around his before I consciously decide to stop him.
The movement draws his attention immediately.
His gaze snaps to mine, concern flashing across his face so quickly that I almost miss it.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The cave is quiet around us, illuminated by the soft glow of the crystals.
Outside, the fire crackles steadily, while the distant wind carries the scent of snow from the mountains surrounding the valley.
Exhaustion weighs heavily on me now. The adrenaline has long since faded, leaving only bone-deep fatigue and the lingering warmth of his hand wrapped around mine. Despite everything that’s happened today—the rift, the monsters, the impossible world—I find myself reluctant to let go.
Which is ridiculous.
Then again, so is most of my life at the moment.
“There’s something else bothering me.”
The Hendroy stills. His attention sharpens immediately, as though the possibility of me being unhappy with something is a problem that requires solving.
I lift our joined hands slightly. “Besides the whole magical soulmate thing. And the alternate world thing. And the blood thing.”
His expression remains solemn.
Honestly, that’s probably fair.
“I hate calling you the male.”
One dark brow lifts.
“The Hendroy isn’t much better. It sounds less like a name and more like you’re introducing yourself at a business conference. ‘Hello, welcome to the annual Hendroy convention. Complimentary refreshments are available in the lobby.’”
For a heartbeat, I think I’ve genuinely confused him.
Then something changes.
The shift is subtle enough that I almost miss it. His gaze lowers briefly to our joined hands before returning to my face, and I see something that looks suspiciously like vulnerability.
“I have a name.”
The words are quiet, but they settle heavily between us.
My eyes widen. “Well, that feels like information I should’ve received several hours ago.”
A low rumble vibrates through his chest. Not quite laughter, but close enough that warmth spreads through me despite my exhaustion.
The silence stretches between us before he finally speaks. “Maelor.”
The unfamiliar name settles into the quiet of the cave.
I blink. “That’s your name?”
His gaze remains fixed on mine. “Yes.”
I roll it around in my head for a moment before attempting it aloud.
“May-lor?”
The rumble in his chest deepens. The sound is suspiciously close to amusement.
“Oh, don’t you start.”
Something soft flickers through his expression.
My attention catches on the hesitation I’d heard before he offered the name. The weight behind it, the significance.
The question comes softer this time. “Nobody calls you that?”
His gaze drifts briefly towards the crystal-lined walls before returning to mine. “No.”
The answer surprises me enough that I sit up a little straighter.
“No?”
“The shadows knew it when I was born.”
The words settle somewhere deep inside my chest.
The shadows.
Not family.
Not friends.
Not another mate.
Just the shadows.
Something aches unexpectedly.
His gaze remains fixed on mine. “You will be the first.”
My breath catches.
The warmth already humming beneath my ribs blooms into something altogether different. Because suddenly this doesn’t feel like receiving a name. It feels like receiving trust. A gift. A piece of himself that he’s never offered another living soul.
The weight of it settles over me, then another thought occurs. “Wait.”
His brow furrows.
“I’m the first?”
“Yes. My kind choose our own names and only share it with the one living being who is worthy.”
I swallow hard, trying to process his words. “And you’ve decided that’s a good idea despite the fact that I literally fell out of the sky today?”
The smile that appears this time is unmistakable and enough to make my heart stumble. Enough to make me think it might be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since arriving in Terrafeara.
“You are my mate. I have searched millennia for you.”
The certainty in his voice leaves no room for doubt. Strangely, I’m too tired to unpack the whole millennia thing. That particular existential crisis can wait until I’ve had some sleep.
The name echoes through my mind again. Strange. Beautiful. Entirely impossible to pronounce correctly on the first attempt. I try anyway, repeating it carefully. This time I get closer. Not perfect, but close enough that something warm flickers in his expression.
Satisfaction.
Pleasure.
Maybe even pride.
The reaction makes the effort worthwhile.
Exhaustion finally catches up with me then, so I quickly refocus on his wound.
I do a double take. It’s almost healed. I part my lips to ask him all the questions, but my eyelids grow heavy.
The bed beneath me feels impossibly soft, and the steady warmth of his hand wrapped around mine anchors me more effectively than anything else in this strange world ever could.
I tighten my grip one final time. “If we’re doing this whole protector thing,” I mumble around a yawn, trying his name again, “I’m keeping the hand.”
His gaze lingers on me for a long moment before he settles beside the bed without attempting to pull away. “Very well.”
The last thing I see before sleep drags me under is the impossibly gentle expression on his face.
The last thing I feel is the warmth of his hand wrapped around mine.
For years, I’d filled every spare moment with work, patients, and endless reasons to stay busy.
Lying there beside a male I’d known for less than a day should have felt absurd.
Instead, for the first time in my life, I don’t feel alone.