Chapter 40 Jasmine
We’re bonded.
My entire life has just shifted beneath me, yet I feel oddly… calm.
There’s this sensation deep within my chest, buried beneath layers of skin and tissue, like something has finally settled.
Maybe it’s because the choice has already been made, and not by me alone, but all of us. Together. Five years go.
There’s no going back, bonds cannot be severed or reversed. What’s done is done.
Part of me feels relieved, but there’s still a pressing weight, a need weaving between us. They’re ready, all of them, to give everything… to take everything.
And now, I feel them more than I ever have.
Kane, with all his shadows and brooding silence, no longer questions the bond—but still questions himself. I feel his doubt encumbering our connection. There’s a hungry hope, threaded with a fear that he’s too much and not enough all at once.
Julien holds himself steady, composed, but there’s a fire in his unwavering gaze, a flicker of urgency cracked with dejection for what he almost did.
And Sai... oh, Sai.
There’s nothing quiet about his want, his desire, his need. It doesn’t whisper—it roars. But it’s stained with sordid self-loathing. A bitter hatred that means he can’t even hold my gaze.
And then there’s Ezekial. He’s supposed to be the reasonable one, the balance. But I feel it in him now, how he’s so close to giving in, then pulls away. He’s behind me, but refuses to touch. How his darkness brushes mine, then recoils.
I feel all of them. All their bittersweet emotions.
Their longing, tangled with despair. Their want, pressed down by loathing. Their desire, curdled with disgust. Their quiet hope, sickened by shame.
They may be drowning in it, but I will not.
For the first time that I can ever remember, there’s no uncertainty.
They are mine.
I am theirs.
That truth cannot be touched, not by grief, not by hatred, not even by them. And if they lose themselves to the dark, I will claim them back.
They are mine to keep, and I will not let them fall. I won’t let them drown.
The Dark Realm shatters, and the Earth Realm pierces through with bright shocking warmth.
“He’s fading!” Kacey’s voice, sharp with urgency, makes me turn to her. “He doesn’t know anything about Raelynn. This is your last chance to speak, Prospero.”
“Lord…” Prospero’s dimmed gaze seeks out Ezekial. “Forgive me…”
Ezekial’s darkness swells again, thick with unbridled rage.
My gaze darts between the dying man and him. “Ezekial, let him pass peacefully.”
“He stole you from us,” he snarls, but when he turns to me, his fury falters.
“No.” I step closer, placing my fingers on his chest. Even with the chest plate, he shudders. “He saved you,” I whisper, he looks away. “He saved all of you, and me. He was a loyal friend until the very end. You’re too infected with rage to see the truth.”
My darkness curls up, grips his jaw, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Give him this,” I murmur. “Let him pass honourably.”
My eyes flick between each of his, light and dark, urging him to listen. His brow softens, his gaze lightens.
I nod gently, encouragingly, before turning back to Prospero. His fading gaze is fixed on Ezekial, and even in death, I feel him, see him. Eyes full of regret, haunted by a lifetime of duty and all the mistakes stitched through it.
“Thank you, Prospero,” Ezekial’s voice is soft, because the words are only meant for the two of them.
When he speaks again, the words are louder, filled with decree.
“You are forgiven, Lord Prospero Verinent. Your loyalty and service will not be forgotten. May you finally find rest in the realms beyond, my Lord, my Council member, my friend.”
Prospero’s lips pull, trying to form a smile. “An honour… my lord,” he rasps. “My friend.” His closing eyes sweep to mine. “Look after them… for me…”
Tears stream down my face, his emotions so vibrant in his final stages.
His fear and regret are so intense I… I rush towards him before the others can stop me.
I grip his cold hand in mine. “I will.” I swear it with every fibre of my being. Darkness, light, flesh and bone.
Then I whisper an ancient phrase, long forgotten by me, almost a lullaby. His dying gaze widens, lips parting, as the fear slowly leaves him.
His hand drops.
He’s still.
Kacey stumbles back, but Amon is already there, sweeping her into his arms. His voice a low rumble in her ear as her eyes close.
I stare down at the dead man, heart aching, cheeks wet. How I wish I could have known him, thanked him, eased away the pain of his final days.
I exhale slowly, swiping at my face as I turn to find the others—my bonded. But they aren’t looking at me, they’re staring at the dead man whose hand I’d just held.
Amon breaks the silence. “We will remain here. My bonded needs to rest, and I vowed to care for her sister.” His eyes stay fixed on Kacey, whose exhaustion has dragged her into sleep.
The awe in his expression is unmistakable. There’s concern but also wonder, and something deeper. Soul deep.
As Amon steps out of the large cage which once held his dragon form, with the girl who once begged me for my help to feed said dragon, I follow. Without a word, my bonds fall in step behind.
Kacey once told me she often slept overnight in the atrium, and it isn’t long before we’re stepping into her makeshift bedroom holding two single cots nestled between hanging plants and shafts of gentle light. One of them holds the girl I thought I’d never see again.
Raelynn. That’s her name.
In the cells, I simply called her ‘doll’, because that’s what she looked like. Small, fragile. Just like now.
I study her sleeping form, noting the marks across her throat that Kacey hasn’t yet healed. They’re deeper than mine ever were, more scar than skin. And yet... she looks peaceful. It’s strange, seeing her like this, so still and untouched by fear.
I expand the calm. Let the soothing safety curl out from me and wrap around her until it’s all she can feel. Her body relaxes more, and her breaths deepen.
“Sleep well, Raelynn,” I whisper.
Amon gives me a soft little smile, glancing at my bonds who still haven’t said a word. He may not have seen the memory, but this silence is unnerving, it’d be clear to anyone that something has changed.
When I step away and out of the room, they follow once more. Which means finally—for the first time since our bonded reveal—it’s just us.
Me and my bonded.
Together in the middle of the lavish atrium, beneath the glass ceiling where birdsong weaves through golden rays of light.
It should feel serene. But the picturesque scene is tainted by a silence that refuses to leave, filled with guilt so thick it’s hard to breathe.
I glance from one man to the next as it rolls off them in waves. It’s Ezekial’s that’s the strongest, crashing around him.
Because even after my words, some feelings cannot be soothed away. Some, you just have to endure.
“We need to return to the Pit,” Kane says. His gaze flickers to me, and the furrow of his brows tells me he didn’t want to say it.
“We need Lucanus to confirm there’s no more of the Order in this district,” Julien elaborates in a low murmur, eyes distant.
We all hear him, but his heart isn’t in it, like he’s mindlessly speaking.
“And we have to go now?” Sai’s gaze darts feverishly between the men, then me. But it doesn’t hold, quickly slipping away.
“Yes.” Kane’s voice is strangely soft as he adds, “Unfortunately.”
“He won’t last much longer,” Ezekial confirms quietly. His gaze is fixed somewhere far away, eyes haunted by a vision only he can see.
And although they’ve all confirmed their need to leave, no one moves.
Because they’re all trapped, trapped in a cycle of vicious self-loathing, each one grappling with their own version of guilt as they replay what happened.
Sai’s emotions hit the hardest. The thought of hurting me… it’s eating him alive. There’s this hopelessness, a sense of futility. That no apology will ever be enough. That he’s already lost me.
It’s too much. I can’t bear it. I need to stop this spiral, to pull them all back from the edge, show them that there’s a way forwards.
That I want there to be.
“You need to go.” Everyone, everything, stills at my voice. “All of you, I’ll stay here—”
Their eyes snap to me, and it’s like a physical blow. I don’t need to guess what they’re thinking when I can feel it. The shock, the disbelief. The hurt.
I don’t want them to go, but they need to. Because if I try to soften their feelings now, they’ll know. And they’ll fight me, because it’s all too fresh and raw, because they believe they deserve this ache. Even after everything I’ve said.
“I’ll take care of the creatures,” I add quickly, trying to hold a semblance of normality. “And I’ll check in on Amon with Kacey and Raelynn.”
That doesn’t help. They bristle at my simple suggestion, all their shoulders stiffening.
“Don’t.” I level them all with a stern stare. “Don’t do that.” They say nothing, but the tension winds tighter. “Don’t act like I’m some fragile woman who can’t handle herself.” My gaze sharpens. “Equals, remember?”
Shame slips into their expressions, except maybe Kane, who just watches me.
“I also think it would be good to have a bit of… processing time,” I say lightly, gently, maybe too gently.
The room darkens.
I cough out an awkward laugh, trying to break the building tension. “Just a bit. We’ve had some pretty life-altering revelations, right? We all need a change of scenery, some time alone to breathe, to think—”
Sai’s in front of me in an instant, his eyes wide, wild, face contorted with pure panic.
“Why?” he demands, voice too loud. “Why would you want to be alone?”
“I… I just think we all need time to think. That’s all. There’s a lot of emotions right now. Lots of… big feelings.” I give him a small smile, one I hope is soothing. “It’s not a bad thing, Sai. I promise, it’s not.”
But he doesn’t hear me, or maybe he just can’t.