The bond between us is unstable, pulsing hard enough to make my teeth ache. Anger crashes into fear, fear tangles withsomething deeper, something raw and desperate that refuses to let go of him even now.
“You thought you could just—what?” I demand. “Cut pieces off yourself and call it a solution?”
His eyes burn. “I thought I could prevent your death from becoming mine.”
“You don’t get to decide that alone.”
“It was not a decision made lightly.”
“That’s worse,” I fire back. “You thought about it. You weighed it. You decided your life was the expendable one.”
His jaw tightens. “If the balance demands?—”
“Stop talking like a contract,” I snap, stepping closer. “I am not a clause you can negotiate around.”
The bond flares sharply between us, heat surging, unstable and wild. I feel his resistance, his logic, his stubborn, infuriating need to make sense of something that is not meant to be solved like a problem.
“I am trying to protect you,” he says.
“And I am trying to stop you from destroying yourself in the process.”
“That may not be avoidable.”
I stare at him.
Something in me snaps.
“Shut up,” I say, and then I grab his collar and yank him forward.
He doesn’t expect it.
Good.
My mouth crashes into his before he can finish whatever catastrophic sentence he was about to say.
There is nothing gentle about it.
No hesitation. No careful exploration. It is anger and fear and possession all tangled together, a deliberate claim that saysyou do not get to leave me like that. His breath catches against mylips, and for half a second the bond spikes so violently I think we might break the house all over again.
But it doesn’t fracture.
It holds.
No—it surges inward.
Rhazek’s hands find me instantly, one at my back, the other gripping my arm like he’s anchoring himself to something real. The heat between us intensifies, but it doesn’t lash out this time. It pulls tight, compressing, focusing.
“Careful,” he murmurs against my mouth, voice rough.
“No,” I whisper back, and pull him closer.
The bond answers.
Hard.
The room trembles, but the cracks in the walls don’t spread. The energy doesn’t explode outward like before. It coils inward, tightening around us, pulling everything chaotic into alignment.
Downstairs, something slams.
