Page 62 of Hart's Redemption

“Noted.” And agreed. As much as I disliked the mindfulness exercises—especially the observing and letting go of judgementsabout myself—they were better than this extended bone-deep exhaustion.

He made a movement with his hand and sat beside me. I thought a moment too late to warn him about the bile. Except somehow the acrid scent had vanished. Unlike Yanesh’s own faint scent, this smell was completely gone. It was entirely possible Yanesh himself had done something to it. After all, I still didn’t knowwhathe was, but wasn’t about to be crass enough to ask… again. I huffed a tired laugh. Whatever sort of creature Yanesh was, he seemed to do a lot of things without thinking, and I was fairly positive I wasn’t supposed to notice.

“Tell me about your partner.”

I huffed a stronger laugh, much to the dismay of my abused diaphragm and abdomen. “Is that how it is? Get me too weak to deflect, then ply me with questions about Elijah?”

“Would I be able to get you to talk openly about him otherwise?”

“What do you want to know?” I asked, sidestepping the question. Talking about Elijah hurt as much as it helped.

He maneuvered into a more comfortable position against the wall. “Tell me how you two met.”

I smiled to myself at the memory. Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken Yanesh much to convince me to trust him, even though I was almost positive his real name wasn’t Yanesh, and he still refused to tell me who the red-haired woman was or her significance. Ultimately, the wolf trusted him not to harm us, and I trusted the wolf. Elijah had taught me that.

“The Klamath pack was throwing a party—a bacchanal.”

“Sounds revelrous.”

I scoffed. “More than likely, it was an attempt to ingratiate themselves with the locals. The pack and the town do not have a history of getting along.”

“I see. I assume that’s why you were there? To leverage the distrust.” I nodded, but rather than focus on the real reason I was there, Yanesh asked a different question. “There must have been a number of people there, lycans and not. What drew you to Elijah in particular?”

The bond gave a solid, albeit small, pulse in my chest. “Sheer happenstance. I was scouting the warehouse they’d converted to a dancehall for potential targets when I bumped into him on the dance floor.”

“Was he dancing?”

“No, but I’ll never forget the way he looked at me.”

Yanesh repositioned again. The stone floor was not comfortable, but he remained seated beside me. “How was that?”

“It’s difficult to put into words. I remember thinking how strange it was. Even though I was wearing a mask that magically altered my appearance, when he looked into my eyes, it was like he wasseeingme. The real me. Past the mask, past all the half-truths and assumptions, just… me. No one had ever looked at me that way before. I was there to do a job—get in, get out—but I’m almost positive that if he hadn’t ‌followed me, I would have gone back and thrown myself at him.” I rubbed absentmindedly at my chest, missing how the bond used to sing.

He gestured at my chest. “My husband used to do that a lot. Still does when he thinks I’m not looking.”

I dropped my hand immediately, and Yanesh sighed. He’d attempted to talk to me about the bond before, but even beside myself with exhaustion, I wouldn’t make that mistake. I’d thought that dodging him enough times would have given him the hint to let it drop. Seemed I was mistaken. It didn’t matter how much I trusted him, or even if that little blue cube sitting on the table really could hide our conversations, I couldn’t risk anyone finding out that Elijah and I were bonded.

“I can’t help you if you don’t let me,” Yanesh said, his frustration clear. “Why won’t you talk to me about the—” I shot him a glare, and he quickly altered what he was going to say. “…it. Obviously, you haveit, and I truly believe discussing the details might mitigate some of the pain.”

“Pain? I’m not sure if that’s the right word. It hurts… in a way, but it feels deeper than that. I…” My voice faltered as a wave of heartache washed over me. “I miss him. Miss being able to touch him. Miss his voice and his deep laugh. Miss the way his eyes light up when they look at me. Miss his scent and how it seems to cling to my skin. I even miss arguing with him.” I rested my head against the wall and fought the sudden sting in my eyes. It would seem not even physical exhaustion could temper my overly emotional state.

“Withdrawal.”

I frowned and looked at Yanesh. “What?”

“You’re experiencing withdrawal, Josh.”

“Withdrawal is typically associated with addiction,” I countered.

“Exactly. You’re essentially addicted to your partner. But this isn’t an addiction you can simply give up. You literally need him to live. It’s why the longer you’re kept apart, the sadder you get. For the record, I think ‘pain’ is absolutely the right word. And that ache in your chest is only going to get worse. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you’re kept apart for too long.”

I swallowed thickly. “No.” Elijah’s explanation of the consequences so many months ago, when I’d made the mistake of thinking distance would help, came back to me:Do you know what happens to bonded wolves that are kept apart? They still die. Not as quickly or violently, but slowly and painfully. They just start losing the will to live.

Right then, I’d vowed never to abandon him like that again. But here I was, with no idea how far away he was or even ifI would ever see him again. I didn’t realize I was sobbing into Yanesh’s shoulder until he brushed my hair back and made soft, soothing sounds. It was so like when Elijah comforted me, I sobbed harder. When there was nothing left but persistent sniffles and a few renegade tears, I stayed where I was, accepting the comfort he was silently offering.

“How do you think he is right now?” Yanesh asked softly.

I sniffed hard. “I imagine he’s pretty pissed.”