The bond did not sleep.
It lay between them like a live wire stretched across miles of stone, forest, and blood-soaked earth.
Elara felt it first as a tightening beneath her ribs.
Not pain.
Not yet.
A pressure.
She stood at the northern watchtower with two guards below, wind tugging at her hair as dusk bled slowly into indigo. The estate walls glowed faintly behind her, lanterns already lit in anticipation of another restless night.
"Report?" she asked quietly.
"Scouts returned. River path clear," one guard answered.
Clear.
Nothing felt clear anymore.
She pressed her fingers to the stone railing and inhaled deeply.
The scent of pine and ash lingered in the air.
Somewhere far beyond sight, Alessandro rode patrol along the eastern border with Luca and a small strike unit. She had argued against splitting forces.
He had insisted.
Now the distance between them stretched taut and humming.
A sudden, sharp pulse struck her chest.
She gasped softly.
Uff—
