Chapter 35

The Bond Beneath the Skin

The problem with finally kissing Kael was that afterward, pretending nothing existed between them became impossible.

Not difficult.

Impossible.

Lyra realized it immediately the moment they pulled apart beside the frozen river.

Because the world felt different now.

Sharper somehow.

Too vivid.

Kael seemed to notice the same thing at the exact same time.

His expression shifted subtly while one hand remained at her waist like he’d forgotten to let go yet.

Or maybe didn’t want to.

“You feel that too.”

Not a question.

Lyra swallowed carefully.

The silver marks beneath her skin burned warm enough to hurt.

Not painfully.

Worse.

Pleasantly.

And somewhere underneath the warmth—

she could feel him.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

The realization hit hard enough to steal breath from her lungs.

Kael’s exhaustion still lingered beneath the surface from the rogue wolf attack. The constant restraint. The fear. The overwhelming relief flooding through him right now while he looked at her like someone finally allowed himself something forbidden.

Lyra felt all of it.

All at once.

“What is happening?”

Her voice came quieter than intended.

Kael’s jaw tightened immediately.

And through whatever strange new connection existed between them now—

panic flashed sharply beneath his calm expression.

“Oh no.”

That answer felt deeply concerning.

Kael stepped backward then.

Fast enough that cold air rushed suddenly into the space where his warmth had been seconds earlier.

The emotional thread between them stretched painfully.

Neither of them missed it.

“You’re feeling me,” Lyra realized.

Kael looked genuinely unsettled now.

“Yes.”

The snow continued falling softly around them while the frozen river groaned somewhere beneath thick ice.

Neither moved.

Because both of them understood instinctively that something irreversible had just happened.

“The mating bond,” Kael said finally.

Lyra stared at him.

“We’re not mated.”

“Not fully.”

The correction landed heavily.

Kael dragged one hand slowly across his face like exhaustion had suddenly become personal.

“The bond can begin forming before the actual claim if instincts intensify strongly enough.”

Lyra blinked once.

“That sounds medically horrifying.”

For one brief second, amusement flickered through him despite the panic.

Gone quickly.

Still there.

Then suddenly—

a sharp pulse of pain hit Lyra’s ribs hard enough that she physically flinched.

Kael reacted instantly.

Not because he saw it.

Because he felt it too.

His attention snapped toward her side.

“You’re cold.”

Lyra frowned.

“That wasn’t—”

Then she stopped.

Because she understood.

The pain hadn’t belonged to her.

It belonged to him.

His injured ribs from the rogue alpha attack.

Kael looked disturbed enough now that Lyra’s own pulse started climbing in response through the bond.

Which immediately made him more anxious.

Which made her more anxious.

“Oh, this is terrible,” Lyra muttered.

Kael exhaled sharply beneath his breath.

“Yes.”

The emotional feedback loop intensified instantly.

Her panic touched him.

His restraint pressed back against her nerves.

Desire moved through the connection next—

warm and dangerous and very much not helping.

Kael physically turned away from her for a second like distance might somehow fix biology.

It did not.

“This is why I kept trying to stay away from you.”

His voice sounded rough again.

Lyra folded her arms tightly against the cold.

“You kissed me.”

“I’m aware of the sequence of events.”

That should not have been funny.

Unfortunately it was slightly funny.

The bond pulsed again suddenly.

This time something deeper moved through it.

Loneliness.

Old enough to ache.

Kael’s.

Lyra’s breath caught softly before she could stop it.

Because she felt it fully now.

All the years of isolation wrapped beneath control and authority and violence. The crushing weight of responsibility sitting permanently against his ribs. The constant instinct to protect everyone while expecting nobody to stay long enough to protect him back.

The emotional force of it nearly broke her heart on contact.

Kael went still immediately.

Because he realized she felt it.

“Don’t.”

The word came low.

Not angry.

Exposed.

Lyra looked toward him carefully.

“You’ve been alone for a really long time.”

Kael closed his eyes briefly.

The bond tightened painfully around both of them.

“You’re not supposed to see that part.”

The confession hurt worse than the loneliness itself somehow.

And then—

without warning—

Kael caught a wave of her emotions in return.

Fear.

Not of him.

Of losing him.

The realization slammed visibly through him.

Lyra saw it happen in real time.

Kael’s eyes opened immediately, attention locking onto her with stunned intensity as the feeling crossed fully through the bond between them.

Not imagined.

Not guessed.

Known.

The silence afterward felt enormous.

“You’re afraid for me.”

Lyra swallowed hard.

“Well, yes. You keep getting stabbed.”

The attempt at humor failed immediately.

Because the truth beneath it still hung there between them.

Raw.

Visible.

Kael crossed the distance between them again before seeming to consciously decide against stopping himself this time.

His hands settled carefully at her waist.

Warm.

Steady.

Dangerous to her heartbeat.

The bond surged violently at the contact.

Relief.

Want.

Possessiveness.

The overwhelming instinct to stay close.

Too much emotion slammed between them all at once hard enough that Lyra grabbed the front of his coat instinctively just to steady herself.

Kael cursed softly beneath his breath.

“You feel everything.”

“Yes,” Lyra whispered. “Apparently.”

“That’s not supposed to happen this fast.”

Somehow that made it worse.

The silver marks beneath her skin glowed faintly again while Kael stared down at her with the kind of focused intensity that made the rest of the world disappear.

And through the bond—

Lyra felt exactly how badly he wanted to kiss her again.

Unfortunately—

he felt the same thing from her.

Kael’s composure cracked instantly.

Not outwardly.

Internally.

She felt it.

“Oh, we are absolutely fucked,” he muttered softly.

The honesty of it nearly made her laugh.

Nearly.

Then suddenly the bond pulsed again—

hard.

Painfully hard.

Both of them flinched simultaneously.

A violent rush of instinct and heat and emotional overload crashed through the connection all at once strong enough to steal breath from Lyra’s lungs.

Kael grabbed her automatically before she lost balance against the snow.

And for one horrifying second—

they both realized the same thing.

If this bond kept deepening at this speed—

neither of them might survive resisting it much longer.