She throws a pillow at me.
I catch it without looking away. “Your aura has stabilized completely.”
“That sounds reassuring.”
“It is.”
“How reassuring?”
“Structurally permanent,” I say. “There is no residual instability. No lingering fragmentation from the ritual.”
She considers that, then places a hand over her chest. “I can feel it.”
“The bond?”
“No.” She shakes her head slightly. “Myself. And… it’s like there’s something else layered under it. Not separate. Just… another rhythm.”
“A second heartbeat.”
Her eyes flick up to mine. “Yes.”
I nod once. “That is the dual-channel structure. Your natural pulse and the infernal current operating in parallel.”
“It doesn’t feel invasive.”
“It should not.”
“It feels…” She searches for the word. “Grounded.”
That word settles into me with surprising weight.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “That is correct.”
She exhales, some lingering tension leaving her shoulders. Then her expression shifts.
Subtle.
But I catch it.
“What?” I ask.
She hesitates.
“Sable.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“I do not entertain ‘probably nothing.’”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you don’t.”
Then she looks at me again, more serious now. “Earlier. In the yard. When Corin cut himself.”
I go still.
“Yes.”
“It healed fast.”
