May
She wakes up slowly.
But she wasn't asleep.
Her body feels heavy, weightless, suspended between two worlds. The air around her is warm — not burning, not frightening — just warm.
Like being held.
Like being protected.
She hears Nathel's voice before she opens her eyes.
"—she'll wake soon. She just needs time. The bond took the hit for her."
Another voice responds — deeper, rougher.
A man.
"Time is something you two are running out of. You shouldn't have triggered the Rending."
"I didn't trigger anything," Nathel snaps. "It came for her."
May's heart stutters.
It.
The creature.
Her breath catches, and the warmth tightens around her — strong arms pulling her closer.
She opens her eyes.
Nathel is sitting beside her on the floor — back against her wall, holding her like she's something precious and breakable. His glowing eyes are dim now, fading, but still lit with fear.
Fear for her.
"May?" he whispers, looking down at her. "Are you okay?"
She swallows.
"Yes… I think so."
She tries to sit up, and he immediately helps her, one hand behind her shoulder, careful, gentle. She leans against him without thinking.
For a moment neither of them move.
Neither of them breathe.
Their hearts beat in the same rhythm.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The man across the room clears his throat — loud enough to make them both jump.
He's older. Maybe late forties. Dressed in travel-worn clothes. Not Ghanaian — but familiar in a strange way.
His eyes, sharp and silvered, land on May.
"So," he says, "you must be the girl who pulled Nathel's bond back from the dead."
May blinks. "Who… who are you?"
Nathel exhales like this is the part he didn't want to get to.
"This is Idris."
The man nods once.
"Your father's old friend," Idris adds casually.
Nathel stiffens beside her.
"My father is dead," he says quietly.
Idris doesn't look away.
"So was your bond. Yet both seem to be waking."
May frowns, confusion sparking through her fog.
"What does that mean? What bond? Why is all this happening? Why did that thing come for me?"
Idris steps forward and kneels in front of them, lowering his voice.
"It came because of your heart, May."
She stiffens.
"What about my heart?"
Nathel's fingers tighten slightly around her.
Idris continues, eyes steady.
"Because your soul called his name."
The room freezes.
May stares.
Nathel breathes out sharply.
"…What?"
Idris taps his chest.
"There are many kinds of magic in the old lore. Gifts, bindings, curses. But destiny-bonds—"
He looks directly into May's eyes.
"—those only activate under one circumstance."
She whispers, "Which is…?"
Idris's voice drops to a whisper.
"When a heart chooses someone it cannot live without."
May's breath catches.
Nathel goes still beside her.
Very still.
Idris stands.
"And your heart chose him loudly enough," he adds, "that something ancient heard it."
May's pulse races.
Nathel's does too.
She can feel it.
She can feel him.
Their bond hums like a wire pulled tight, vibrating between them.
Idris looks toward the broken doorframe.
"And now that the creature has found your scent…"
He meets Nathel's gaze.
"…it will return with its master."
Nathel's eyes darken.
"The Shadow Lord."
Idris nods once.
"And he will not stop until he breaks the bond — or takes May for himself."
May's entire body chills.
Nathel moves instantly — shifting closer, arm curling around her like a barrier.
"She's not going anywhere," he growls.
Idris raises a brow.
"So you're ready to tell her, then?"
Nathel stiffens.
"Tell me what?" May whispers.
Nathel's jaw tightens.
His eyes flick to hers, filled with something fierce, scared, aching.
"May… I didn't want you to find out like this."
"Find out what?"
He swallows.
Hard.
"I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you."
Her heart stops.
Idris sighs.
"And now," the older man says, "the reason becomes very clear."
Nathel turns fully to May — still holding her, still breathless — and says the words that change everything.
"Because if I love you…
the Shadow Lord will kill you to get to me."