May
Her heart has never felt louder.
Not even during the attack.
Not even when the creature whispered Nathel's voice through the door.
Now — with Nathel standing inches from her, eyes full of fear he's trying to hide — she feels every heartbeat like a drum calling something ancient awake.
Idris crosses his arms impatiently.
"Well? The bond won't complete itself. Hearts don't shout unless someone gives them permission."
May swallows.
Speak her choice aloud.
That's all it takes.
But somehow, it feels like the heaviest step she's ever taken.
Nathel looks at her as if he expects her to turn away. To choose safety. To choose distance. To choose anything but him.
"May…" he whispers, "you don't have to do this. Finishing the bond… it isn't like saying you care. Or that we're connected. It's—"
"Permanent," she finishes softly.
"Deadly," Nathel adds.
Idris sighs loudly. "Not if he controls it. Which he can, if the bond completes. Honestly, your generation is very dramatic."
Nathel shoots him a glare, then returns his gaze to May.
"You don't owe me this," he says gently. "I can protect you without tying you to me forever."
"How?" she whispers. "By leaving again?"
Nathel freezes.
Silence spreads between them like the world is holding its breath.
May steps closer to him.
Close enough to feel his warmth.
Close enough to see the flicker of gold in his eyes — the bond light.
"You keep acting like staying away protects me," she says quietly. "But the only reason that thing found me tonight… is because I was alone."
Nathel's breath catches.
"And because my heart," May continues, "has already chosen you."
Nathel closes his eyes like the words hit him too hard.
Idris mutters under his breath, "Finally."
May lifts her hand — slow, steady — and places it over Nathel's chest.
Right where the bond glows beneath his skin.
His breath stops.
"May…" he whispers, voice breaking, "if you say the words, everything changes."
"Then let it change."
He opens his eyes.
There is no hiding in them now. No shields. Just a boy standing on the edge of fate, terrified and trying not to fall apart.
"Tell me what I have to say," she whispers.
Nathel looks like he might collapse.
Idris gestures with both hands impatiently.
"Oh, for the love of ancient magic—just speak the choice. Say his name. Claim the bond. Choose him."
May looks into Nathel's eyes.
And she knows.
She has known since the moment his panic flooded into her chest like her own heartbeat.
She inhales shakily.
Her heart steadies.
And she speaks the words aloud:
"Nathel… my heart chooses you."
—
The world stops.
Completely.
The air pulls inward.
The light in the room flickers.
Nathel's mark on his wrist ignites, burning bright gold.
His breath leaves him in a gasp.
"May—"
But the bond has already answered.
A burst of golden light explodes from his chest, shooting straight into her, slamming through her ribs like a second heartbeat firing into place.
May cries out—
Nathel catches her instantly, arms wrapping around her as her knees buckle.
The light around them spirals, weaving, connecting, binding.
Idris steps back as the air surges with power.
"By the Ancients…" he breathes. "It's stronger than I expected."
Nathel holds her tighter, forehead pressed to hers, trembling with the effort to contain the magic.
"May—stay with me," he whispers. "Stay with me."
She tries to speak but the bond is reshaping everything — her heartbeat syncing with his, her breath syncing to his chest, her awareness expanding.
She feels him.
Not just his emotions.
Him.
His fear.
His hope.
His love.
His power waking like a sun rising too fast.
It's overwhelming.
It's beautiful.
It's terrifying.
And then—
A blast of cold cuts through the room like a blade.
The lights snap out.
The air freezes.
Idris curses loudly.
"Oh, brilliant. He felt it."
Nathel jerks his head up. His eyes glow brilliantly now — full Sunline gold.
"Shadow Lord," he growls.
May clutches his shirt, trembling.
"Nathel—"
He lifts her with both hands, sets her gently behind him, and turns toward the darkness flooding the room.
"I'm here," Nathel says into the cold.
"And now," a voice whispers from everywhere and nowhere at once, "so is she."
The temperature drops until May's breath turns to frost.
A shape begins to form in the shadows.
Tall.
Wrong.
Smiling.
The Shadow Lord has arrived.
And the bond — still glowing around May's heart — pulses once.
Hard enough to shake the air.
Nathel steps forward, golden light burning in his veins.
"Touch her," he says, voice low and ferocious, "and I'll tear your realm apart."
The Shadow Lord laughs softly.
"I wouldn't dream of touching her… yet."
His smile widens.
"I only came to congratulate her."
May stiffens.
The Shadow Lord bows his head slightly — mockingly.
"You chose him.
Now let's see if he can keep you."