Page 104 of The Bound Blood
Fear slams through me like a tidal wave, but underneath it something else rises—steady, immovable, louder than the panic. I will not watch her walk into danger. I will not freeze. I will not lose her.
Before I can think better of it, I move.
My hand shoots out, grabbing her arm—not roughly, but firmly enough to break whatever invisible tether is pulling her toward the Veil.
“Linds,” I say, “stay with me. I’ve got you.”
A shock goes through her. She blinks—once, twice—like she’s waking from a deep sleep. Behind me, I can feel Auron and Dorian react at the same time: Auron swears sharply under his breath. Dorian inhales like he’s about to unleash hell.
But Lindsay is still staring at the Veil as if something behind it is calling only to her.
The wards flicker. The air tightens. The whisper builds again, “Lindsa?—”
“No,” I snap, stepping fully between her and the boundary.
I plant myself like a shield.
“If you want her,” I say to the Veil, pulse thundering violently in my ears, “you’re going through me first.”
The world holds its breath. Auron freezes, eyes widening—startled. Dorian’s brows lift, a flicker of respect crossing his face. And Lindsay’s fingers curl into the back of my jacket, grounding herself tome.
“Don’t,” she whispers—but she’s gripping me like I’m the only thing keeping her here.
The Veil shimmers, as if something presses hard against it—then recoils. The wards flare bright gold, humming violently. The whisper cuts off mid-breath. Silence crashes over us.
My lungs burn. I don’t even realize I’ve stopped breathing until Lindsay presses her forehead between my shoulder blades and exhales shakily.
“Nolan…” she murmurs, voice small. “Thank you.”
My throat closes. “Always.”
Dorian steps up beside me, his gaze on the barrier. “Whatever that was,” he says, “it knows her. And it wanted her.”
Auron gives me a long, assessing look—one part irritation, one part reluctant admiration. Then, quietly he says, “That was reckless.”
I swallow. “I don’t care.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
RAIDEN
If I hadn’t been patrollingthe opposite damn side of campus—I would have been there.
Ishouldhave been there.
The guilt sits like a stone in my chest as I watch Lindsay pick at her breakfast across from me, trying her best to pretend everything is normal. It isn’t. Not for me.
“You keep staring at me,” she says finally, nudging my foot under the table. “You’re going to make me self-conscious.”
“I’m not staring,” I lie. “I’m… supervising.”
She raises a brow. “While I eat scrambled eggs?”
“Yes,” I say without shame. “Danger is everywhere, Little Flame.”
Her lips twitch, because she sees right through me. She always does.
“Raiden,” she whispers. “I’m okay.”
