Hellhound. HELLHOUND!
Draven isn’t a lycan. He’s not even a normal shifter. He’s something older. Darker. Something the gods themselves couldn’t stop. And I severed a bond that can’t be severed.
Stars above.
I press a palm to my chest, but there’s nothing. No spark. No echo. Just the chill spreading down my spine.
“Of course,” I mutter bitterly. “Of course he’s one of the seven nightmare monsters from the pre-soul apocalypse. Why wouldn’t he be?”
Neris is quiet for once. Even she doesn’t have a sarcastic remark. That’s how bad this is.
“I cloaked the bond,” I whisper, the realization sinking in. “I didn’t destroy it. I just… closed the door.”
I look toward the window. Somewhere out there, the not-lycan is pacing the halls of this palace. Probably brooding. Probably shirtless. And absolutely, undeniably, still tethered to my soul.
“Great,” I mumble. “I’m emotionally handcuffed to an indestructible, hellfire-born demigod with talons bigger than my face.”
I rub at my temples. I’m about to have the headache of a thousand headaches.
“I need tea. And maybe a priestess.”
Of course the bane of my existence picks the exact moment I’m having a meltdown to waltz into the library.
“Are you okay?” Draven asks as he slides into the seat beside me, shoving a plate of food under my nose. Steak. Dammit, that smells amazing.
Then I feel it — a touch. Light at first. Tentative. And then firmer, drawing slow, steady circles between my shoulder blades.
Relief blooms in my chest like warmth from a fire. The headache vanishes instantly.
I glance at him. He immediately pulls his hand back.
“Don’t stop,” I snap.
His hand returns. I melt. Just a little.
The pounding in my skull eases again. The tension in my spine unwinds. I exhale, leaning slightly into the pressure.
“I’m fine,” I lie, opening the book and pushing it toward him. “You read. I’ll eat. And you keep touching my back. Got it?”
He nods. Doesn’t say a word. Just picks up the book like a dutiful research assistant and keeps his hand where I need it. He reads, I devour the food.
The second I swallow the last bite, he speaks.
“So the bond’s not severed!”
He sounds elated. Like he just won a century old war.
I give him a flat look. “That’s your takeaway?”
I gesture at the book, a second away from picking it up and throwing it at his head. “We just read that you're most probably a creature born of hellfire. That gods once lost a war to your kind. That the world could be saved or destroyed, depending on how you might feel each morning. And you’re excited about the bond?”
“Everything else can be figured out,” he says, voice suddenly quiet. Serious. “But I thought our bond was gone. Forever. And it’s not.”
His smile is small. But so full of hope. Damn him. “Of course, even if it was… it wouldn’t have changed anything for me. But it’s good to know it’s still there.” He taps two fingers against his chest.
I cross my arms and huff. He sighs and stands.
“Come on, grumpy,” he says with too much charm. “Neris needs a run. I need to stretch my wings. Let’s get out of here before your brain explodes.”
