"Celeste," I say carefully, sensing the danger.
"She keeps talking about me like I'm not here." Her hands are shaking. "Like I'm not a person. Like everything I've done doesn't matter, like I'm just a thing waiting to be used!"
The water ripples harder. Papers on the table flutter despite the still air.
Ethan looks up from his tablet, alarmed. "What's happening?"
"Celeste." I take a step toward her.
"I gave up everything." Her voice cracks. "My old life. My sister. Any chance of being normal. I killed my own maker. I almost died. And it's still not enough? I'm still just a weapon to you people?"
The glass explodes.
Not falls. Not tips. Explodes, shattering outward in a spray of glass and liquid that peppers the wall behind Julian. He lurches back, eyes wide, as the shards rain down on the table.
But it doesn't stop there.
The chairs around the table begin to shake. The chandelier overhead sways violently. Papers lift from the table, swirling in a wind that doesn't exist.
Our bond marks are blazing now. Visible even through our clothes, crimson light pulsing erratically through the fabric in time with the chaos around us.
"What the hell is that?" Ethan points at our chests, backing further away. "They're glowing. Both of them. They're glowing!"
"Are those bond marks?" Julian's voice pitches high with disbelief, fascination breaking through his fear even as he ducks a flying sheaf of papers. "I've never seen bond marks do that. They're not supposed to... bond marks are black. Faint. They don't glow."
"And they don't pulsate," Isabelle adds, her cool composure cracking as she stares. "Bonded pairs have marks, yes, but not like that."
"The color," Dr. Sullivan breathes, medical curiosity momentarily overriding his terror. "That's not pigmentation. That's light. The marks are producing actual bioluminescence."
Nadia's eyes fix on the crimson light pulsing from both our chests, synchronized perfectly despite the chaos. For once, she has nothing to say.
Isabelle is on her feet, backing toward the wall. Caleb has risen from his corner, hand reaching for a weapon. Dr. Sullivan grips the table, knuckles white. Ethan's tablet clatters to the floor as he scrambles backward.
Nadia stumbles back, fear breaking through her composure for the first time. "What the..."
"Celeste!" I grab her shoulders, turning her to face me. Her eyes are unfocused, pupils blown wide. I feel her chaos pouring into me. Terror layered over anger, and underneath it all, power. Raw, uncontrolled power surging through her without direction.
"I don't..." Her voice is barely a whisper. "I can't... I don't know how to stop it!"
"Look at me." I cup her face in my hands. "Focus on me. Only me."
The room continues to shake. A chair tips over. The chandelier swings dangerously. Elena has ducked under the table, her human instincts for survival kicking in.
"I can feel you," I tell her, pouring calm into our connection. "I can feel everything you're feeling. The fear. The anger. Let me help you carry it."
"I don't know what's happening!"
"It doesn't matter. Focus on the heartbeat. Our heartbeat. Can you feel it?"
Her hand flies to her chest, pressing hard against the glowing mark. I cover it with mine.
"That's us," I say. "That's real. That's the only thing that matters right now. Just breathe with me. Match the rhythm."
I feel her trying, struggling against the power that wants to surge outward. I send her everything I have. Steadiness, calm, love. An anchor in the storm.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the shaking subsides.
The papers flutter to the ground. The chandelier stills. The pressure in the air releases.
