Chapter 20 #2
Why the fuck did I do that to her? Of all things, of all godsdamn abilities, to unknowingly mark her. I braced my hands against the tile, water pounding down my back as frustration coiled tight in my chest. This was getting too complicated. Too tangled. Too far out of my control.
At least I hadn’t been inside her head. The thought alone made my stomach twist. Knowing I even had that kind of power was terrifying.
And yet… part of me couldn’t deny it was dangerous in a way that could be useful.
Against a real enemy, that ability could end wars.
But Rynlee wasn’t my enemy. No matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise.
For now, I’d keep it from her. She didn’t need to know what I’d done, not yet.
Maybe not ever. Not while we still hated each other this much.
Not while the bond was already tight enough to choke us both.
I bowed my head, letting the water run, the decision settling heavy in my chest. Secret for now.
For the best. Even if it meant carrying the weight alone.
After the shower, I didn’t return to my room.
I couldn’t. I pulled on clean armor and headed for the library instead, needing the distraction or maybe the answers.
Part of me just wanted to bury my thoughts in anything that wasn’t Rynlee.
The other part couldn’t stop circling back to her.
To the bite mark. It hadn’t fully healed.
That alone bothered me more than it should have.
Rynlee’s healing was powerful, divine. She should’ve erased something like that without effort.
But the mark was still there, faint but stubborn, etched into her skin like it wanted to stay.
It might have been nothing. But it didn’t feel like nothing.
The shape was too precise. Too deliberate.
Not like a wound left by chance or chaos.
It lingered at the edges of my thoughts, itching beneath my skin the same way the shadows did when something was wrong. And I had the sinking feeling that whatever had been carved into her… wasn’t meant to fade on its own. I needed answers.
The library smelled of old parchment and ink, the sconces casting a dim, golden glow along the towering shelves. The librarian sat behind her desk, half-hidden by stacks of ledgers. I gave her a brief nod and didn’t wait for acknowledgement before heading deeper inside.
I started in the gods’ section. My fingers trailed along the spines until they brushed against a large, silver-bound tome dedicated to the Moon God.
The cover shimmered faintly, veins of frost curling up its edges like ice reclaiming stone.
Even untouched, it hummed with quiet power.
I pulled it free. Then I turned toward the darker shelves. The ones no one liked to admit existed.
Curses. Necromancy. Forbidden histories.
The air seemed heavier here. Colder. I scanned cracked titles until my eyes landed on a thick, blackened volume coated in dust and something darker.
Rot, maybe. The leather was brittle, crumbling slightly beneath my fingers.
This book didn’t belong out here. It belonged to the restricted section, where only professors and third years were allowed.
I carried both tomes to an empty table tucked into the far corner, away from the candlelight and curious eyes. The shadows bent around me, cloaking the space. I didn’t stop them. I opened the silver book first, flipping to the chapter on moonbonding. There it was. The mark I’d given Rynlee.
A frost-etched rose, shimmering faintly under moonlight.
The words confirmed exactly what Khonsu had told me: the mark allowed entry into her mind, but only under two conditions.
Physical contact with the rose. And shadows summoned at the same time.
Reading it, seeing it in ink instead of hearing it from a god, eased something tight in my chest. I hadn’t crossed that line. Not yet.
Then I turned to the second book. Erebus bit her during their first sparring match.
He was brutal that day, merciless. I could still remember the sick satisfaction in his expression, the blood-smeared smile he wore like a trophy.
Rynlee had been able to heal the faint bite mark that started to form on me, but not the one on herself.
Could that mark be the thing slowly draining her energy?
I opened the black tome next. The pages creaked and flaked as I turned them, stiff with age, threatening to fall apart.
Most of it was filled with necromantic rituals, soul-binding, and familiar darkness.
But then a passage caught my eye. Faded. Nearly unreadable:
There is magic older than the gods. Magic passed not through sigils or spells, but through blood. Through a bite. When mixed with shadow or celestial essence, it can root itself in the soul. Permanently corrupting, twisting, and binding.
The rest was illegible. “Fuck,” I muttered, leaning in to try and make out more. That’s when arms slid around my shoulders from behind. I stiffened immediately, then sighed through my nose when I recognized her touch. Jasmine.
“Hey,” she purred against my ear. “What’s got you so tense?” My jaw clenched. For a moment, I had the unshakable urge to push her off me-hard. The space she occupied felt wrong. Suffocating.
“It’s nothing,” I replied gruffly, shrugging her off as I snapped the black tome shut. “Just doing some research.” She stepped back, giving me space, though I could still feel her eyes on me.
“Hey… I’m sorry. About Rynlee.” I stood without responding. Just hearing her name sent a sharp jolt of heat through my chest, part guilt, part something I didn’t have the language for. Jasmine’s voice softened. “How’s your back? After… everything.”
“It’s fine,” I muttered. “The lashes weren’t deep.” They never were. If Rynlee got hurt, I’d feel the sting, but dulled, muted, because of my power. But if I were injured? She’d get the full force. Bone-deep ache. Matching marks. The bond didn’t balance equally. It mirrored power.
She nodded, her expression unreadable. “That’s good.
” Then, after a beat too long: “Do you want to come back to my dorm?” Her tone was casual.
Her smile is even more so. And part of me wanted to say no.
I still felt wired. Off-balance. Like a storm with nowhere to go.
But another part of me, the colder one, reminded me who I used to be. Before all this bond chaos. Before her.
So, I swallowed the fire, the guilt, the spiral. “Sure,” I replied, and followed her out.
A couple of days had passed, and I was running on fumes.
Rynlee still wasn’t released from the infirmary, and my mind kept racing about that passage I read.
I stepped into the feeding hall, barely acknowledging anyone as I made a direct line for the coffee.
The bitter scent was the only thing keeping me upright lately.
Mug in hand, I scanned the room and immediately noticed Ivy and Erebus huddled in the far corner, heads bent close together, voices low. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit about a unit leader whispering with a cadet, but something about the way they stood, too close, too secretive, set me on edge.
Especially after what Rynlee had said. She was worried about them.
And now, so was I. I moved toward my usual seat, keeping them in my peripheral vision.
Erebus had been here since day one, so why the hell did it still feel like he didn’t belong?
But then again, Rynlee made a good point the other night: rosters can be edited.
Thinking back, I don’t ever remember my father even calling his name for the Hera unit, and Rynlee was right; he wasn’t there during the Fourfold Rite ceremony. Something was off about him and Ivy.
I barely sat when I heard Gia’s voice cut through the hall.
“Rynlee!” My head snapped up on instinct.
And there she was. Rynlee stepped into the space, sunlight spilling through the high windows and catching in her golden braid, the streak of red woven through it like fire threaded into gold.
Her leather armor hugged her curves perfectly, every movement poised and sure.
Strong. Unapologetic. She looked like a fucking warrior goddess.
As if the sun itself had sculpted her. The thought hit me out of nowhere, sharp enough my grip tightened around the mug in my hand.
For a split second, I wanted to stand. To cross the room and pull her into my arms, just to prove she was still here.
Still breathing. Still, herself after everything.
Then the resentment clawed back in—not sharp enough to drown out the guilt, but deep enough to keep me in my seat.
I was the one who’d pushed her away. I knew that.
I also knew I should apologize. Gods help me, I wanted to, but I had no idea how to say the words without turning it into another fight.
So instead, I did what I always did. I looked away.
My gaze dropped to the corner of the hall, and my stomach tightened.
Ivy and Erebus were gone. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
“What’s wrong, handsome?” Jasmine’s voice purred beside me as she slid into the seat, nudging my side. Her perfume followed her, cinnamon and spice buried beneath a sweetness that made my jaw tighten. Like a distraction I hadn’t asked for.
“Nothing,” I replied, forcing a smile that felt stiff on my face.
“You sure?” she questioned, brow knitting slightly as her hand settled on my thigh. “You’re all tense.”
“I’m fine,” I said too quickly, covering it by squeezing her leg in return. The gesture was automatic. Practiced. She smiled, clearly satisfied.
“How about we test that theory later?” she whispered, lips brushing the shell of my ear. A shiver ran through me, a reflex, not desire.