The classroom hums with the soft scratch of pens and the dull echo of the teacher's voice, but I can't focus. My eyes blur over the board, and every word feels like it's coming from underwater.
Justin is sitting next to me, half-turned toward me. Not enough for anyone to notice, but enough that I feel it—his attention. It's a pull. Constant. Quiet. Like gravity has shifted, and I'm the only one who notices.
I keep my gaze down, pretending to take notes, but my thoughts are spiralling. My skin prickles beneath the fabric of my sleeves. My wrist still tingles from where he brushed past me earlier. He hadn't even touched me, not really. Just….close. Too close.
A whisper curls at the edge of my mind.
Not his voice.
Older. Hollow.
The bond tightens.
Or maybe I think it. I can't tell.
The words dissolve the moment I register them, and my grip on the pen tightens. I glance at the pendant tucked beneath my shirt. It's warm again—-throbbing faintly like a second heartbeat.
Beside me, Justin leans over to hand me a worksheet. His fingers graze my arm—-just for a second.
The pendant flares hot.
So does the skin beneath his touch.
I flinch.
Not from pain. From——recognition.
He sees it—-his eyes flicking to mine in a quick glance that isn't casual. He knows something happened. I shake my head, forcing a smile, pretending it was nothing. Pretending I'm not terrified of what my body is starting to do around him.
By the time class ends, my nerves are frayed raw.
I shove my books into my bag with more force that necessary, desperate for air, for space, for something that doesn't feel like it's pulling me apart from the inside out. Justin's still beside me, silent—-but not distant. I feel him watching me, like he's waiting for me to speak first. I don't.
Not yet.
We walk out of class side by side, the hallway buzzing around us. I keep my eyes forward, my steps steady, but inside, I'm still burning from that one small touch.
It shouldn't have felt like that.
It shouldn't have meant anything.
But it did.
And I can't stop thinking about it.
********
We end up at the same table we always do. It's habit now. No one else sits with us. Natalia is nowhere in sight. I don't ask where she is.
I pick at my food, barely tasting it. The pendant is cool again, like it's waiting. But my skin still remembers the heat.
Justin reaches for his drink, brushing mine as he pulls it closer—-and the second it happens, something flickers across my hand. A faint glow. Soft. Pale.
Gone in a blink.
But I saw it.
And so did he.
His eyes meet mine, wide for a fraction of a second before he schools his expression.
We don't say a word about it.
*******
The library is quieter than usual, light streaming in through tall windows and casting long shadows across the study tables. We're tucked into a corner again, our notebooks open, laptops humming softly beside us.
We're supposed to be working on our story.
But we're not.
We're closer than we've ever sat before. I can feel his leg brushing mine under the table. Neither of us pull away.
He hands me a book, our fingers touching—-and this time, I don't flinch. The glow doesn't come back, but something shifts in the air. My heart pounds.
"Is it always like this?" I whisper, not even sure what I'm asking.
His eyes stay on mine. "Like what?"
"This….whatever's happening between us." I gesture vaguely, like the space between us has become something alive. Electric.
Justin's jaw tightens. "That's not just you."
I meet his eyes. "Then what is it?"
A pause.
"You feel it too," I say.
His smile is soft, a little sad. "I try not to."
I stare at him, startled by the honesty in his voice. "Why?"
He leans closer, eyes dark and unreadable. "There's something binding us. I don't know what it means yet."
My heart skips.
The pendant flares hot, a whisper tugging at the back of my mind, too faint to catch.
"I shouldn't be here," he adds. "Not like this. Not with you."
I should ask what he means. I should pull away.
But I don't.
Because this time, his touch is deliberate. And in it, something opens.——ancient and aching.
When our fingers meet, the pendant flares—-not hot, not cold.
Just…..full.
Like it's whole for the first time.
I can't look away from him.
And yet, something inside me trembles.
Because this doesn't feel like falling.
it feels like being claimed.
"Whatever this is," I say, "it feels like it's choosing for us."
A thought hits me—-quiet, sharp: What if this bond isn't just ours? What if it was made for us?
Justin nods, slow. "That's what scares me."
I lean in closer without meaning to.
And in the space between us, something flickers behind my eyes—-just for a breath.
A throne of silver fire.
The same image I saw on that thread before it vanished.
I blink, and it's gone.
But the look in Justin's eyes tells me: whatever's binding us knows more than I do.
********
Justin's POV
Later that night.....
The street is quiet. Wind stirs the branches overhead, brushing against the side of the house in soft, uneven rhythms. I stand across from her window, my hands buried deep in my jacket pockets, jaw tight.
The glow from her room spills out through the sheer curtains. Soft, golden. Still awake.
I don't move. Don't call out.
Just watch.
The pull is worse tonight.
It always is after I've been too close. Touch her. Let my guard slip.
That thing in her—-the pulse of her bloodline, the bond forming between us—-it's not supposed to happen like this. I was supposed to observe her. Get close enough to earn her trust. Keep her from realizing who she was…..and who she belonged to.
But now?
She's the one person I was never supposed to care about.
And the only one I can't stop thinking about.
I exhale slowly, trying to steady the war in my chest. I didn't plan to feel anything.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I don't want to look at it.
But I do.
Mother.
You're close to her. Use that——before she sees you for what you are. Don't forget where your loyalty lies. She is not one of us.
My thumb hovers over the screen.
I delete the message without responding.
I don't move for the longest time.
Just staring up at her window, a shadow in the dark.
I should leave.
But I don't.
Not yet.