Page 11

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

I’ve no idea how long we’ve been plodding along this track. All I’m sure of is that I stink—the joy of travelling with limited supplies and no washing facilities. Okay, that and we’re still no closer to safety or answers.

Shanae’s been tight-lipped. The only thing she’s asked and—after a shared glance with Solan—I’ve confirmed is that, yes, Jamie and I arrived in the latest merge just a few days ago. She did reveal that she’s been here for close to eighteen years.

I’m still processing.

On the one hand, she’s survived this long, and I assume has a life here. It’s a relief. But fuck, eighteen years with no chance of returning.

“So, if you happened to be in a rift…” I ponder how to describe the section of land exchanged in a merge. “… cell here, you could technically find yourself back home?” I ask.

Solan tenses beside me, and guilt that my words make him nervous pulses under my skin.

“Technically, yes. Our world or another. Solan’s… or Yetaria’s.” She points at the large, noseless monster a few steps in front of us. “Who’s to say where the rift would take any of us?”

Shit, I didn’t even consider that. A tendril of unease unfurls in my gut.

What if another happens and takes Jamie away from me… and to somewhere even more dangerous than here? I feel the blood drain from my face. What if I’m taken away from Solan or him from me? A slice of fear threatens to buckle my knees.

I don’t have time to spiral—not with Solan’s firm, comforting grip on my thigh. I soak in his warmth, the silent reassurance he’s giving despite not knowing what I’m freaking the fuck out about. The fact that he does so without an exchange of words is enough.

I’m not sure how to respond. Do I want to think about this further and get myself worked up about something I have exactly zero control over? Fuck no.

Thankfully, Solan angles his head towards Shanae and says, “Where exactly are we heading?” Solan’s voice is steady, but there’s an undercurrent of tension that makes me glance at him. His golden eyes flick briefly to mine before focussing back on Shanae.

She adjusts the strap of her pack, her pace steady as we trudge along the overgrown trail. The air is thick and humid, the jungle closing in around us like a living, breathing thing. Vines hang low, brushing our heads, and the occasional cry of some unseen creature sends shivers down my spine.

“To our headquarters,” Shanae replies, her tone clipped but not unkind. “Not the main camp.”

“What’s the difference?” I ask, keeping a firm grip on the reins of my horse. The animal snorts softly, uneasy in the dense jungle.

“The camp’s where most of the rebels are,” Shanae explains. “It’s a lot bigger, more like a proper settlement. Think of a town rather than a city of tents. The headquarters, on the other hand, is more of a… central node. Fewer people, more secure.”

“A town?” Jamie perks up beside me, his eyes wide with curiosity. “What kind of town? Like… one from Earth?”

“Not exactly.” Shanae’s lips quirk into a small smile. “It was merged here about twenty years ago. We call it Dathanor. Used to be from a world called Fenorith.”

“Fenorith?” I echo, the name foreign and intriguing.

“Yeah,” Shanae says. “Whole place was apparently covered in bioluminescent veins and floating rivers. Dathanor was one of their smaller settlements, but it’s… changed since then.”

“Changed how?” Jamie’s practically bouncing with excitement now, and I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Hell, it’s better than him being terrified.

Shanae glances at him, her expression softening. “Well, for one thing, it doesn’t have floating rivers anymore. But it’s still got its quirks. You’ll see when we get there.”

At least that’s reassuring, the implication that we’ll get to see the settlement and make it out of the headquarters alive.

The trail narrows, forcing us into a single-file line. Solan drops back to walk behind me. I glance over my shoulder, catching how his gaze sweeps the surroundings with practiced ease.

“And the shields?” he asks, his tone casual but probing. “How have you managed to protect a place like that?”

Shanae snorts softly. “This world is like one of those crazy movies or video games back home,” she directs at me. “You’d be amazed at the kind of skills some species bring to the table.”

“Like what?” Jamie asks, eyes wide. He’s in front of me, his head angled up, glancing at everything he can.

Shanae flicks a look his way and grins, her teeth white against her dark skin. “There’s a species called the Entherians. They’re humanoid but have these crystalline structures in their bodies that let them manipulate energy fields. They can embed those fields into objects, creating shields that are damn near impenetrable.”

“That’s… awesome,” Jamie breathes, his eyes wide with awe. “Can they make anything else?”

Shanae chuckles. “Oh, plenty. But shielding’s their specialty. Without them, we’d have been discovered years ago.”

The pathway opens up again, and Solan rejoins me. The invisible pull between us is strong and makes it all but impossible not to peer at him.

His expression is unreadable. “And what about your defences? Beyond the shields.”

Before Shanae can answer, one of her companions—a hulking, tusked creature named Raskar—growls low in his throat. “Why do you care, Pyronox? Planning to burn us down if you don’t like the answers?”

The hostility in his voice is like a slap, and my hackles rise. “Hey,” I snap, stepping between Raskar and Solan. “He’s asking because we’re on your side. Or have you forgotten that already?”

Raskar narrows his beady eyes at me, his lips curling back to reveal sharp teeth. “Trust isn’t given freely, human. Not here.”

“Then maybe you should stop treating us like enemies,” I shoot back, my voice sharp. “We’re here because we don’t have a choice, not because we want to be.”

“Enough,” Shanae cuts in, her voice firm. “Raskar, stand down. Solan’s questions are valid. And if you can’t keep your temper in check, I’ll leave you behind.”

Raskar grumbles something under his breath but falls silent, his tusked head bowing slightly in submission.

“Sorry about that,” Shanae says, her tone softer as she glances at me. “Tensions are high these days. Can’t blame anyone for being on edge.”

I nod, though my shoulders remain tense. Solan’s hand brushes briefly against mine, a silent reassurance that helps ease some of the tightness in my chest.

The jungle grows denser as we continue, the air damp and heavy with the scent of earth and vegetation. Every now and then, I catch glimpses of old structures—crumbling walls overtaken by vines, rusted metal frameworks that hint at a civilization long gone. It’s eerie but also fascinating.

“Where are these from?” I ask, gesturing to a half-collapsed tower we pass.

“Hard to say,” Shanae replies. “Rifts bring all sorts of things through. Could’ve been part of a city from another world or even this one.”

The conversation slows as we press on, the sounds of the jungle filling the silence. Birds call from the treetops, and the occasional rustle of leaves makes my skin prickle with unease.

Then Shanae holds up a hand, signalling us to stop. “We’re coming up on a dangerous stretch,” she says, her voice low. “There’s a predator that hunts this area.”

“What kind of predator?” I ask, my grip tightening on the reins of my horse.

“Something native to this world,” Shanae replies. “Big, fanged thing. Likes to ambush its prey. You’ll know it if you see it. Just stay alert and quiet.”

The group moves cautiously now, every step deliberate. My heart pounds in my chest, the tension in the air palpable. Even Jamie is quiet, his earlier excitement replaced by a wary nervousness.

The jungle seems to hold its breath as we navigate the final stretch. Every shadow feels like a threat, each rustle of leaves a potential attack. But as we step into a small clearing, the tension eases slightly.

“Looks like we’re clear,” Shanae says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I let out a breath, but the relief is short-lived. A low growl rumbles through the air, followed by the sound of snapping branches.

“What was that?” I whisper.

Solan looks intently at me, a tight-lipped smile aimed my way. “If it bleeds, we can kill it.” His hand goes to the hilt of his blade.

The growl is joined by others, and then they’re upon us—a swarm of waist-high creatures with wiry bodies, sharp claws, and teeth that glint like polished knives. This is definitely not the large monster Shanae warned us about. Their eyes glow with a feral intensity, and they move with terrifying speed, their snarls filling the air.

“Jamie, stay back!” I shout, drawing my rifle as my horse rears in panic.

Solan is already in motion, his blade flashing as he cuts down one of the creatures. Shanae and her team form a defensive line, their weapons raised as the mini monsters close in. Fuck, they’re ugly and terrifying.

I’m off Geralt in a beat, my gun coming up instinctively, the weight familiar and comforting in my hands. I fire twice, each shot precise. The first freaky gremlin drops with a shriek, clawing at the bloody hole where its eye used to be. The second stumbles as my bullet catches it in the shoulder, but it doesn’t fall.

Behind me, Jamie cries out as one of the monsters lunges towards him. I pivot, sighting down the barrel in an instant. The report of the shot is deafening, and the creature collapses at Jamie’s feet. He stares at me, wide-eyed, but I don’t have time to reassure him.

“Stay close to Caly!” I bark, already turning back to the fray.

Solan is a whirlwind of flame and steel, his movements as fluid as they are deadly. The air around him shimmers with heat, the flickering flames on his skin casting eerie shadows across his sharp features. He moves with terrifying precision, each swing of his blade cutting down another creature.

One lunges at him from the side, and he doesn’t even flinch. A column of fire erupts from his hand, engulfing the attacker in midair. It screeches, the sound high-pitched and awful, before collapsing into a smoking heap.

I can’t help but stare for a moment, caught between awe and something far more dangerous—a primal, breathless appreciation of his sheer power. He’s magnificent, a force of nature, and the sight of him is enough to make my pulse race.

But there’s no time to dwell on it. Another creature charges at me, its jaws wide and slavering. I sidestep, driving the butt of my gun into its skull with all my strength. It yelps, momentarily stunned, and I take the opportunity to fire point-blank into its chest. “You’re one ugly motherfucker.” The words spill out even as a slightly hysterical grin forms.

Then Solan is in my space, his own grin wide, his eyes heavy with lust. “Did you just…?”

I roll my eyes, my smirk still in place, my adrenaline flying so high, I don’t even give a shit that I’m sharing an Arnie moment with him in the middle of a bloody battle. I lose his smile when he spins—a dagger soaring from his hand to land in the centre of the mini monster’s forehead.

“Behind you!” Shanae shouts.

I whirl just in time to see another ugly fucker leaping for me, its claws outstretched. There’s no time to aim—I raise my arm instinctively, bracing for impact.

Before it can reach me, a fiery whip lashes out, catching the creature and yanking it to the ground. Solan strides forwards, his eyes blazing as he finishes it off with a clean slice of his blade.

“Are you all right?” he asks, his voice tight with concern.

“I’m fine,” I snap, adrenaline coursing through me and all humour long gone. “Focus on those fucking monsters!”

He hesitates for the briefest of moments, his gaze flicking over me to ensure I’m unharmed before turning back to the fight.

The monsters are relentless, their snarls and screeches filling the air as they press their attack. Shanae and her team hold their ground, their weapons a mix of advanced tech and brutal simplicity. Jamie clings to Calythra’s side, his face pale but determined.

“You dirty fucking Fraggles!” Shanae shouts, her voice sharp.

I glance over in time to see two creatures circling towards her. Without thinking, I aim my rifle and fire, dropping one. The second leaps for her, but she meets it head-on, driving a wickedly curved blade into its chest.

I take stock, the sounds of screams and grunts lessening. For all their ferocity, the weird-arse monsters are no match for our steel and determination. What the hell am I talking about? No match for Solan. Sure, my rifle came in handy, and the others protected and took down a few, but it’s Solan who’s unstoppable, his flames cutting through the growing darkness like a beacon. Every movement is purposeful, each strike devastating.

As the last creature falls, semiquiet descends over the clearing. The only sounds are our ragged breaths and the distant calls of jungle birds.

The clearing is a mess of scorched earth and fallen bodies, the air heavy with the acrid scent of smoke and charred flesh. Jesus, there are so many. What I’d thought of as a small group of maybe ten is so not right. There must be twenty, maybe more, scattered monsters at our feet.

Solan’s flames have burned out, leaving him standing amidst the wreckage like some mythic warrior, his blade dripping with dark ichor. He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling, the faint glow of embers still flickering across his skin.

The rebels are staring at him, their expressions a mixture of awe and thinly veiled horror. Shanae, previously so composed, looks like she’s not sure whether to thank him or step cautiously away. Yetaria mutters something low in a language I don’t understand but with a tone that doesn’t need translating—disbelief, reverence, and a touch of fear.

“That was…,” Shanae begins, trailing off as her gaze sweeps over the carnage. “Impressive doesn’t quite cover it.”

“Terrifying fits better,” Yetaria says bluntly, his eyes fixed on Solan as though he might burst into flames again at any moment.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Shanae mutters, rubbing her temples, “but I think I’d rather face another pack of those things than him in a fight.”

I glance at Solan, and my pulse skips. The rebels might be horrified, but I’m a far cry from that. Watching him fight was like watching raw power unleashed, each movement precise, every flame-tipped strike beautiful and deadly.

And maybe that’s part of the problem—how much I felt it, the sheer pull towards him. Even now, blood smeared across his cheek, his shirt torn, he’s standing there like he’s walked out of a dream designed to ruin me.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady as I step closer to him. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, his molten-gold eyes scanning my face for any sign of injury. Finally, he nods, his voice low and quiet. “You?”

“I’m fine,” I manage, though the look in his eyes makes it hard to breathe.

“You didn’t have to protect me like that,” he says, his fingers brushing the back of my hand briefly. “Didn’t have to fight.”

“You were protecting me too,” I point out, though my voice wavers just slightly. “It’s what we do. I know you’re the warrior here, but I can handle myself.”

The corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly in a hint of a smile that makes my heart stumble.

Fuck, I want to kiss him. Lose myself in him so completely that all the carnage around us disappears.

I don’t know who moves first. Our lips connect, mouths part, tongues stroke and tangle. I hold him close, clinging to his shoulders as I groan against him, kissing him with everything I have. One firm hand on my spine holds me steady while the other cradles the back of my head. Another lick into his mouth and Solan shudders. Fuck, I love this. How he loses control, is close to unravelling completely.

The clearing of a throat, or maybe more than one, cuts through the lust connecting me to Solan. I pull back, wide-eyed and gasping for breath. Solan peers down at me, his chest rising and falling in a rapid beat. He’s beautiful. It doesn’t matter that he has black splats of blood on him or even that?—

“Are they… are they gone?”

Fuck. Jamie. I turn quickly towards him, relief flooding through me when I see him pale but unscathed.

“For now,” Shanae replies, wiping her blade on the grass. “But we need to move. There could be more nearby.”

I swallow hard as I look around, reaching out for my nephew to hold him close. “That wasn’t the monster you were worried about, was it?” I confirm even though I already know.

Her gaze shifts to me, and she shakes her head. “No.”

Fuck it all to hell.

Solan steps into my line of sight, his golden eyes scanning me for the second time. “You’re hurt,” he says, his voice low and intense.

“It’s just a scratch,” I say, brushing at the blood on my sleeve. “Nothing serious.”

His jaw tightens, but he nods, brushing his fingers against mine for a brief moment.

But before I can say more—or worse, do something like throw myself at him and kiss him senseless again—Shanae interrupts.

“We need to get moving,” she says, her tone brisk. “That fight might’ve drawn more predators. We can’t linger.”

Solan steps back, his hand falling away, and I curse the timing. With a nod at Shanae, I gather my things, giving Jamie another quick once-over to ensure he’s still in one piece. He’s pale and shaky, but he meets my gaze with wide, determined eyes.

“You okay, kiddo?” I ask, crouching down to his level.

He nods quickly, his voice small but steady. “Yeah. You were amazing.”

“So were you,” I say, ruffling his hair. “You kept your head. I’m proud of you.”

Calythra shoots me a look that I think might be approval, and the group begins to move again.

The jungle opens up as we press on, the air hot and humid. Despite the tension and how battle-weary we are, Jamie seems to have found his second wind and peppers Shanae with questions, his curiosity undiminished.

“So, you’re not taking us to the main camp right away?” he asks.

“No,” Shanae replies, glancing over her shoulder. “We’re going to the headquarters. It’s smaller, more secure.”

“What’s the main camp like?” I ask, curious despite myself. She gave the basics earlier, but I need to have a better understanding of where I’m leading my nephew. I click at Geralt to keep up, his reins in my hand as he walks at my side.

Shanae pushes a low-hanging branch out of the way. “It came through in one of the early merges—a whole chunk of another world, including buildings, streets, and people. We’ve built onto it over the years, but the original structures are still there.”

Jesus. The whole thing boggles my mind, but damn if the excited curiosity isn’t bubbling in my gut too. I peer up at Solan, whose gaze immediately lowers to meet mine. “Have you seen lots of evidence of rifts since you’ve been here?”

He bobs his head. “Yes, a few larger settlements and areas, but more like your home.”

“As in my house, my property?” I clarify, checking he’s not simply talking about my world.

“Yes. We can return one day, gather your things.”

That would be incredible, but what would be even better would be staying there. If not for my own sense of self-preservation, then definitely for Jamie. It’s something I’ll ask Solan, but not right now when surrounded by rebels who may or may not want to welcome us in. Hell, from some of the initial sneers and what we’ve already discovered, them trying to kill us might still be on the cards.

Though I suspect after Solan’s earlier display, they’re even warier than they were.

“Thanks,” I offer, squeezing his large palm.

Shanae pauses as we break free from the dense jungle, her eyes narrowing towards something in the distance. I follow her gaze, blinking rapidly as the sight before me registers.

At first, I think it’s a mirage, some trick of the heat and exhaustion. But no. It’s there. It’s real. And it’s… a bowling alley.

Not just any bowling alley, mind you. The alley is bright pink, its gaudy neon lights still somehow flickering faintly despite what must be years of wear and tear, with a massive sign on top that reads “Strike It Rich Lanes!” The smiling caricature of a bowling pin holding a sack of cash winks down at us, though one of its eyes is cracked and darkened.

Jamie is the first to react. He stops dead in his tracks, jaw dropping. “What… the… heck?”

I bark out a laugh, the sound sharp and unhinged. “Bloody hell. It’s a bowling alley. In the middle of a jungle.”

Shanae sighs, running a hand over her face. “It came through in one of the merges. No one knows why or how. We use it now, but… yeah. It’s a bowling alley.”

I can’t stop laughing. The absurdity of it all hits me square in the chest. After everything we’ve been through—fireballs, monsters, jungle predators—this is what finally breaks me. Tears sting my eyes as I double over, clutching my stomach.

Solan steps closer, his expression one of deep confusion. “I don’t understand. Is this structure… important to your people?”

“Not in the slightest,” I wheeze, wiping at my face. “It’s for a game. You roll a heavy ball at pins and try to knock them down. That’s it. That’s all it’s for.”

Solan’s brow furrows, his golden eyes darting between me and the garish building. “And this… entertains you?”

Shanae groans. “Welcome to Earth culture.”

Jamie chimes in, “It’s fun, though. And they have burgers and hot chips and arcade games!”

“Burgers?” Solan repeats, his expression even more bewildered. I suspect he’s filtering through his memories of every Arnie movie he’s ever watched, trying to recall if he’s ever heard of a burger being mentioned.

I lose it again, laughing so hard, I can barely stand. The bubbling hysteria feels cathartic, a release of everything I’ve been holding in since this nightmare began.

Even Shanae cracks a small smile, though her amusement is short-lived. She steps forwards, her tone turning serious. “All right, laugh it up now, but keep it together when we go inside. The rebel leader is… intense.”

I blink, sobering slightly. “Intense how?”

“You’ll see,” Shanae says cryptically. “Just… don’t provoke him.”

The laughter peters out completely as her words sink in. A ripple of unease moves through our group, the rebels exchanging wary glances.

As we approach the building, I notice more details—reinforced steel plating bolted to the walls, makeshift barricades around the perimeter, and several sentries perched on what used to be the roof. They watch us closely, their weapons trained but not raised, their expressions unreadable.

Shanae leads us through the entrance, the glass doors now replaced with heavy metal ones that creak ominously as they swing open. Inside, the transformation is even more jarring.

The bowling lanes have been repurposed into a training area, the polished wood now scuffed and scratched from years of use. Tables and chairs from what must have been the snack bar are arranged in clusters, covered with maps, blueprints, and weapons. The air is thick with the hum of activity—people of various species moving with purpose, their voices a low murmur beneath the steady clatter of… is that someone actually bowling in the distance?

Shanae leads us towards the back, where an oversized table has been constructed from salvaged materials. Seated at its head is someone who I assume to be the rebel leader.

He’s humanoid, but only just. His skin is a deep, iridescent purple that shimmers like oil under light, and his eyes are a piercing silver that glow faintly in the dim room. Horns curve elegantly from his temples, framing a face that is both striking and unnerving. His build is massive, his presence commanding.

He watches us approach, his gaze sharp and assessing. When he speaks, his voice is deep and resonant with an almost-musical quality. “Shanae. You’ve returned.”

“Yes, and with new arrivals,” Shanae says, gesturing to our group. “This is?—”

“I know who they are,” the leader interrupts, his eyes locking onto me with unsettling intensity. “The ones from the latest rift.”

I straighten instinctively under his scrutiny, my heart pounding. Solan moves closer to my side, his protective presence both comforting and grounding.

The leader’s gaze shifts to Solan, and for a long, tense moment, the two of them simply stare at each other, as though sizing each other up.

Finally, the leader’s lips curve into a faint enigmatic smile. “Interesting,” he says, his tone unreadable.

Great. Just what we need—more cryptic commentary. But at least we haven’t been eaten on the spot. Plus, he’s still smiling, and not in an “I wonder if you’ll taste like chicken or beef” kind of way.

“Welcome to the Riftborn,” the leader says, his deep voice cutting through the room’s low hum of activity. He rises from his seat with deliberate grace, the faint glow of his silver eyes never wavering from me. His towering frame seems to fill the room, the curved horns on his temples lending him an almost-regal menace.

Shanae steps forwards, offering a tight nod. “This is Solan, Calythra, Jack, and Jamie. The humans arrived during the latest merge.”

“I know,” he replies smoothly, his lips curving into that faint enigmatic smile. “Their arrival was… notable.” His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, it feels as if he’s looking through me, peeling back layers I didn’t even know I had.

Solan shifts beside me, his imposing frame stiff with tension. I suspect he’s not used to being measured up like this, especially by someone who radiates confidence and control.

The leader’s smile deepens just enough to make it clear he’s noticed. He turns his attention to Solan, the weight of his piercing gaze palpable even from where I’m standing. “Pyronox,” he says, the single word rolling off his tongue like an old secret. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of your kind.”

Solan’s eyes narrow. “And you are?”

“Commander Varek Zathrian,” the leader replies, inclining his head slightly, a gesture that feels halfway between respect and amusement. “I lead the Riftborn.”

Jamie tugs at my sleeve, his wide eyes fixed on Varek. “He’s huge,” he whispers, earning a faint chuckle from Shanae.

Varek’s sharp hearing doesn’t miss it. His silver gaze flicks to Jamie, softening just a fraction. “You have courage, little one,” he says, his tone almost… kind. “But courage without understanding can be a dangerous thing.”

Jamie shrinks back slightly, and I instinctively place a hand on his shoulder, stepping forwards to shield him.

“Why don’t you tell us what you mean by ‘notable’?” I ask, keeping my voice steady despite the tension coiling in my chest.

He studies me a beat before his attention shifts to Jamie, then back to me.

“I know why you’re here.” He takes a step closer, his towering frame somehow even more intimidating up close. His smile sharpens, a predator’s grin, as he says his next words. “You’re running from the crown. You’re searching for allies. What you don’t yet realise is that the Riftborn aren’t just your best chance of survival. We’re your only chance.”

My breath catches in my throat. There’s no way he could know that. None. Plus, talk about not answering my damn question.

Varek’s gaze shifts to Jamie, who instinctively moves closer to me. “The boy too,” he adds, his tone darkening, though it’s hard to tell if it’s concern or something else entirely. “You brought him here… but do you even understand why?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice sharp. And brought him here ? As in, to the rebels, or to this other world? Because fuck him if that’s the case. I had zero control over anything that happened.

Varek chuckles, a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. He turns his back on us and strides towards the window overlooking an incongruous building looming in the distance.

He says over his shoulder, “I’ll give you one piece of advice—keep a close eye on your little shadow.”

Jamie flinches at the word, and I pull him closer.

Varek turns back to us. “It’s interesting, don’t you think?”

Fuck it all to hell with his cryptic bullshit and his nonanswers.

“What is?” Solan asks, his stance protective, his voice brooking no shit.

“Almost every human who’s been dragged into this world has found themselves bound to someone—or something—not of their kind,” Varek finishes, his piercing silver eyes scanning me, Jamie, and Solan with unsettling precision.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I demand, holding Jamie tighter.

Varek tilts his head, his oil-slick skin catching the dim light of the room. “You know exactly what I mean. What do you humans call us? ‘Monsters’? You may as well call us your destined mates.”

The words slam into me, a weight I wasn’t prepared for. I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. It’s not like I haven’t already accepted that Solan and I are connected, bound by something more than choice or circumstance. But hearing it so bluntly, so universally applied to every human who’s come through a merge, makes my stomach churn.

Solan stiffens beside me, his flame-kissed hand brushing mine in silent reassurance. “You’re saying this happens to all humans?” His voice is taut, like a bowstring pulled too tight.

“All humans we’ve encountered,” Varek clarifies, his tone calm, almost academic. “Every last one.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I blurt, my voice trembling with disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

Varek’s enigmatic smile deepens. “A theory—one I’ve spent years piecing together. This world isn’t just a random dumping ground for rift fragments. It’s the centre, the nexus. A hive pulling threads from countless worlds into one chaotic web.”

He paces slowly like a predator sizing up prey. “And humans? You’re the common denominator. Since the first one arrived and bonded with someone from this world, the balance shifted. The merges became more frequent. The worlds blended more chaotically. But one thing remains constant: Humans have the unique ability to forge these bonds—mates, fated partners, whatever term you prefer.”

“It’s not unique,” Solan interrupts. “We have bonded in my world.”

Varek doesn’t appear deterred. Instead, he nods. “That may be the case, but here in Terrafeara, my world, and several other worlds, including Earth, the very possibility of having a fated mate ceased to exist hundreds and, in some cases, thousands of years ago.”

The room seems to tilt around me. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “That can’t be right.”

“Oh, it is,” Varek says with grim certainty. “And it makes you—humans—a hot commodity.”

A cold dread creeps up my spine, and I instinctively look at Jamie. “You’re saying monsters… creatures… would hunt us for this?”

Varek shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Some would kill to sever a bond, to prevent the power it brings. Others would do worse to claim it for themselves. Particularly those still unbonded.”

I can barely breathe. “What the fuck?”

“I didn’t know,” Solan says suddenly, his voice breaking through the fog of my thoughts. He turns to me, his gaze fierce and unwavering. “I swear I didn’t know.”

“I….” My throat is dry, my thoughts scattered. “I know.”

“It’s just a theory,” Solan presses, looking back at Varek. “How certain are you?”

Varek’s lips curve into a wry smile. “Certain enough to have survived this long by taking it seriously. Shanae?”

She steps forwards, her expression sombre. “He’s right. I met my fated within the first week of being here. It’s real. And it’s not just humans who feel it—this world seems to draw us together, across species, across worlds. It’s like gravity.”

Shanae’s words hit me like a punch to the gut. This isn’t just about me. It’s about Jamie too.

“You mean….” My voice falters. “Jamie….”

Shanae nods. “Once he’s old enough to bond, yes. He’ll be highly sought after.”

Jamie looks up at me, wide-eyed and scared. “What does that mean, Uncle Jack?”

“It means I have to protect you,” I say firmly, gripping his shoulders. My voice turns to steel. “It means you’re safe with me.”

“With us,” Solan adds, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Varek watches the exchange with an air of detached amusement. “You’re starting to understand. This world isn’t just dangerous because of the monsters roaming its jungles, its plains. Or even because of the realm and the crown that wants to control all species. It’s dangerous because of what you represent. Power. Connection. Change.”

Power . It’s the second time he’s used that word.

A niggling thought at the edge of my brain demands my attention. Something Solan said… or didn’t say, more like.

“There is more to our bonding, but it will take time.”

I think of our heartbeats falling into sync. Then there’s the whole me going all “flame on!” like the hot guy in Fantastic Four .

That could be it, right? The extent of the power Varek’s referring to.

“Varek.” Solan’s deep voice takes me by surprise. “You know who I am, correct?”

If he had eyebrows, I’m sure Varek would be arching one at Solan right now. Instead, he nods. “I’ve made sure everyone in the Riftborn knows your name and your capabilities.”

Well, damn… talk about his reputation preceding him. I’ve no idea why Solan doesn’t have an ego the size of a great white.

“I need to speak to Jack in private.”

My gaze snaps to his. No way am I leaving Jamie. Not after?—

Solan grips my shoulder, his focus still on Varek. “I need your oath that Jamie is kept safe and does not leave this room. Him or Calythra.”

“Jamie will always be safe with me,” Calythra is quick to say, a terseness in his tone that makes it obvious he’s offended. But still, he’s a kid in training surrounded by a bunch of rebels armed to their eyeballs in steel… and even a few guns (some I don’t recognise as being Earth-made).

Solan turns to Calythra. “And I know you will continue to protect him. But I also need Varek’s oath.”

“You have it,” Varek says after a beat. “They are safe and under my protection while you seek the privacy you have requested.”

I narrow my eyes at his wording. “How can you trust his… oath?” I ask, trying not to choke on the word. It feels ancient, like something out of a myth. But the way Solan’s expression tightens, I know it carries far more weight here.

“Oaths are binding here,” Solan replies, his voice low but firm. “More than words. They hold power. To break one….” He hesitates, his jaw tightening. “It’s not something anyone survives intact. Physically or otherwise.”

Varek smiles faintly, the expression both amused and grim. “To betray an oath is to unravel yourself. Painfully. Permanently. Not a risk I’m inclined to take, especially when I’ve given my word to protect.”

Jamie steps closer to me, and I squeeze his shoulder, not entirely reassured but unwilling to push further.

“So, what now?” I ask, glancing at Solan, then Varek.

“You go with him,” Varek says, his tone a blend of command and nonchalance. “I’ll ensure the boy is comfortable. That way….” He gestures towards a hallway leading deeper into the converted bowling alley.

I don’t move immediately. “And it’s safe down there?”

“Just a private room. Space for conversation,” Varek replies smoothly, his silver eyes gleaming. “Nothing more.”

The unease prickling my spine intensifies, but Solan touches my elbow lightly, drawing my focus.

“It’s necessary,” he says, his voice quiet but insistent.

“Fine.” My voice comes out sharper than intended, my nerves fraying at the edges. “But this better not be one of those ‘I’ll tell you the bare minimum’ conversations, because I’ve about had it with those.”

Solan’s lips twitch, a hint of dry amusement, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns to follow Varek’s directions, and I reluctantly trail after him.

The hallway is dimly lit, the air cooler than in the main area. My boots thud softly against the polished wood floor, and with every step, my stomach tightens. Whatever Solan needs to tell me, it’s big. And the dread pooling in my chest tells me I might not be ready for it.