Page 12

CHAPTER

TWELVE

It turns out being in an enclosed space with Solan is possibly the worst or best thing in the world. It depends on how I look at it, because fuck, all I see and smell and bloody well feel is him.

How the hell am I meant to concentrate on anything beyond the two metres between us that are too damn wide?

“Jack.” The word is one long rumble. It’s a deep caress. A gentle sweep of heat and longing and so much need— “Jack,” Solan repeats, the flash of hunger in his gaze nearly enough to have me whipping out my dick and falling to my knees.

Or onto my back.

Hell, on my hands and knees.

I’m pretty sure I’d do a damn headstand if that turns out to be his kink.

Words that I don’t understand pour out of him—the additional clue that he’s struggling to be in such close proximity to me.

We came here to talk. For Solan to explain whatever it is that I’m sure is going to get a reaction that isn’t simply me wanting to see his dick and hoping like hell he has a peen that’s going to send me spiralling and exploding.

The sheer size of my handsome, brutish monster—and don’t get me started that I’m wading into Mills & Boon territory here, since this is what Solan does to me (and yes, I may not be a big reader and my mum’s soft porn was man-on-woman, but when I was fifteen and restricted from internet use, I took my thrills however I could)—must mean he’s packing, right?

All it will take is me stepping into his space and running my palms up his strong red thighs. I’m still not convinced he’s wearing undies—or hell, a loincloth or something—under t?—

“Jack.” This time my name’s garbled, a desperate plea that I’m pretty sure means he wants me to stop and get to business that doesn’t involve his monster peen in my arse.

I should be taking it easy on him. There’s little doubt that whatever he needs to tell me is as serious as a giant dick in my butt, but since my mind is apparently solely on his junk, there’s only a slim chance that I’m going to make it easy and stop eye fucking him. Wanting him. Needing him.

“I need you to try to stop blasting your intentions to me for one second and clear your mind,” he says through gritted teeth, as though each word is painful.

His words are enough to have me considering what he means, though my hard cock isn’t at all fazed. “Blasting my intentions?” Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I know my reaction to Solan, to finally being alone with him, is excessive… desperate, even. The awareness doesn’t help in the slightest.

Especially when the strands of his hair are undulating, reaching for me. A shiver racks me, wanting their touch… Solan’s touch more than is logical, let alone healthy.

Hell, we’re both still splattered with dried monster blood. I have zero fucks to give, though, apparently.

“Please, Jack.”

It’s the tremble in Solan’s voice that has me swallowing hard and trying to clear my head from the desire that’s doubling down and taking over every cell of my body.

“Okay.” I nod a little stiltedly. “Intention? What do you mean?”

Solan exhales heavily, his chest rising and falling in a deliberate rhythm, like he’s trying to ground himself. His molten gaze flickers to me, his expression taut with restraint.

“You’re broadcasting,” he says, his voice a low, trembling growl. “Your emotions, your desires… everything. I can feel it, Jack. It’s like a firestorm, impossible to ignore, impossible to—” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening.

Broadcasting? The hell? I stare at him, trying to piece together what he means, but my focus keeps slipping back to the way his hair moves—those tendrils of living flame undulating with his every breath once again stretching towards me like they have a mind of their own.

“I don’t—” I start even as I recall our earlier moment when I was sure I could feel his emotions, but he raises a hand to stop me, his red fingers gleaming faintly in the dim light.

“You don’t realise you’re doing it,” he says, his tone softening. “It’s not your fault. The bond… it’s incomplete, but it’s already strong. Stronger than I expected. And after everything we’ve just discovered….” He trails off, something like desperate urgency in his eyes that begs me to understand the significance of what’s happening between us.

My heart skips a beat. “The bond,” I echo, the words thick on my tongue.

“Yes,” he murmurs, his gaze holding mine. “The connection between us. It began when we exchanged blood—the cut on your hand—that was the first step.” I look at my hand, then his, a frown dipping my brows low. “I cut it not on purpose,” he says quickly, and I nod, sending him a soft smile, knowing that instinctively. “The connection,” he continues, getting back on track, “It’s only a fragment of what it will become.”

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “And the rest?”

This is absolutely something we both know we should have spent time talking about, but in fairness, we’ve been busy trying to stay alive. That kinda took precedence.

Solan hesitates, his tendrils curling and uncurling with a kind of restless energy. “The bond completes through the exchange of body, mind, and soul. Only then will our connection be whole. It’s… irreversible, Jack. Eternal. When one of us dies, the other will follow immediately. But until that time, we would share everything—strength, power, life itself. Even the fire I’ve already shared with you, the one you barely understand, will become something more.”

My mind reels, the weight of his words pressing down on me like gravity cranked to eleven. Eternal. Irreversible. Life itself.

I stare at him, the weight of his confession settling like a stone in my chest. Despite everything—the danger, the confusion, the sheer absurdity of this situation—there’s one thing I can’t deny: The thought of being without him is unbearable.

“Solan…,” I begin, but my voice falters as his hair brushes against my arm, the tendrils, warm and alive, sending a shiver down my spine. Apparently we’re no longer a couple of metres apart, our bodies working like the moon and the tide.

“I need you to understand,” he says, his tone urgent. “The bond isn’t just about us—it’s about what we can become together. My strength, my fire… it will become yours. And your fire will grow, become something neither of us can predict. But the connection goes both ways. Your emotions, your desires….” He trails off, his eyes darkening. “They already affect me more than you know.”

My breath catches, heat pooling low in my gut. “So… when you say exchange of body, mind, and soul….”

“It means what you think it means,” he says, his voice dipping into a growl. “And it means more than that.”

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, the heat of him wrapping around me like a living thing. “The exchange of body… it’s the final step, the catalyst for the merging of our minds and souls. When that happens, we’ll be bound completely. Nothing will separate us—not distance, not death. We’ll share everything, Jack. Every thought, every feeling, every breath.”

I should be terrified. Hell, maybe I am. But all I can think about is the way his voice wraps around me like a promise, how his hair reaches for me like it’s as desperate for this as I am.

“And your hair,” I say, my voice rough. “It reacts to me because of the bond?”

He nods, his expression softening. “As you know, it’s part of me. A sensory extension. It responds to you because I respond to you. Because you’re mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice sends a thrill through me, and I know I’m in deep. Too deep. But there’s no going back now—not that I’d want to.

“Solan,” I whisper, my throat tight. “If we do this… if we complete the bond….”

“There’s no ‘if,’” he says, his voice like a vow. “Only ‘when.’”

The finality in his tone sends a shiver down my spine, but I nod, my resolve hardening. Whatever this is, whatever it means… I’m all in.

The air between us is charged, heavy with unspoken words and the kind of tension that has a life of its own. Solan’s eyes burn into mine, heated and alive, as if the fire in him could consume the space between us. His hair, those strange tendrils of living flame, flickers towards me, and I can feel the heat of them even before they touch.

Then he moves.

It’s not a tentative kiss, not the kind you ease into, testing the waters. It’s desperate and claiming, the kind of kiss that demands surrender. He cups my face, his hair ghosting just shy of my skin as his mouth crashes against mine.

The world tilts, my thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm. His lips are hot and insistent, his sharp teeth brushing my lower lip, sending a jolt of something electric through me. A promise, a declaration, a claim … every single one of those things is pressed against my lips, stroking my tongue, consuming me.

I’m lost in him, his taste, the way his body presses against mine like he’s trying to carve himself into my very being. I clutch at his sides, the heat of his skin burning in the most incredible way as he licks into my mouth with his forked tongue.

Bang, bang, bang.

The sound echoes through the room like a gunshot, shattering the moment.

I pull back, gasping, my heart pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to break free. Solan’s eyes are wild, his chest heaving, his hair sparking and curling in agitation.

“Whoever that is,” I growl, my voice rough, “is about to die.”

Solan’s lips quirk into something like a smirk, but the moment doesn’t last. The knock is a sharp reminder of everything waiting for us on the other side of the door—the rebels, the mission, and Jamie. My chest tightens at the thought of him, his wide, uncertain eyes, and the way he clings to me like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered.

I let out a shaky breath, stepping back reluctantly. “We’ll finish this later.”

Solan nods, his gaze lingering on me, his hair still reaching like it doesn’t want to let me go. “Later,” he agrees, though the word is thick with reluctance.

Before we move towards the door, there’s something I have to know. “Wait,” I say, my voice softer now. “I need to ask you something.”

His expression shifts, wary but open. “What is it?”

“You said… we’d share thoughts and feelings,” I begin, struggling to keep my voice steady. “Is there a way to… block that? To stop it?”

The question seems to hurt him, the flicker of pain in his eyes a knife to my chest. His lips press into a thin line before he answers. “Sort of,” he says after a moment, emotion making his English momentarily halt again. “We can… shield. Like dimming a light. Can block thoughts with practice.”

“And emotions?” I press.

His gaze meets mine, intense and unyielding. “Emotions… always there. A shadow. Faint, but… always.”

I nod, though the answer makes my stomach churn. The idea of someone else, anyone else, having that kind of access to my inner world is… unnerving. But with Solan, the thought isn’t terrifying. It feels… right, somehow.

“There’s one more thing,” I say, my mind turning back to the rebel leader’s words. “About the power—what we learned from Varek. You said you weren’t sure of the true impact it would have on us.”

Solan’s jaw tightens, his gaze darkening. “I still don’t know,” he admits. “But Varek is right. Others could try to use it. Our bond… it’s a strength but also a weakness. If someone took you, if they controlled you….” He trails off, the thought clearly unbearable.

I swallow hard, my horror mirrored in his expression. “Or you,” I whisper, the enormity of it settling over me like a weight.

“It’s why we must be careful,” he says, his voice low and fierce. “Together, we are strong. Stronger than anyone other than other bonded pairs. But apart….”

The silence between us speaks volumes, the implications sinking in.

“It explains why Varek was so eager to welcome us,” I say, my thoughts racing. “We could be a game-changer for them, couldn’t we? Turn the tide of their rebellion.”

Solan nods grimly. “Yes. And others will see it too. Not just the rebels. The realm… others…. They will all want what we have.”

My mind flashes to Jamie, his small frame, and the weight of his trust in me. A pang of guilt cuts through me, sharp and relentless. What kind of life has he been dragged into?

“Jamie,” I say, the name a plea. “What does this mean for him? He’s just a kid.”

Solan’s gaze softens, but his expression remains serious. “It means he must be protected. Always.”

“Should I….” I hesitate, the thought forming even as I speak. “Should I try to find a way to send him home? Isn’t that the only way to keep him safe?”

Solan’s brows knit together, his hair flickering with unease. “Home… if it’s possible… it may be safer. But also….” He hesitates, his voice dropping. “It may not. There is no way to know if it is even… possibility.”

I don’t correct him, just wait for him to continue while recalling our much earlier conversation about the likelihood of returning home.

“No one person has made the rifts happen. It is all… fate,” he lands on.

The ambiguity of his answer does little to ease my growing dread. “That you know of. Right?”

He tilts his head. “That I know of.” He pauses. “You think it may not just be fate… the gods?”

I have no fucking clue. “Who knows?” I shrug my tense shoulders. “You didn’t know about all humans being bonded, so you… we can’t be absolutely certain someone or something isn’t behind the merges.” A tendril of excitement… of hope unfurls in my chest. “A single entity or more than one could be orchestrating this whole thing. Shaking up the whole damn universe and its dimensions… for this very reason.”

“To pull together bonded pairs?” Solan asks slowly.

I shrug again. “I don’t know, but it’s a possibility, isn’t it?” At his nod, I say, “And if that’s the case, it means we can help Jamie. Protect him. Send him home.”

Holy shit. This could totally work. If I’m right, all we need to do is figure out the arsehole pulling the strings and get him to create a new rift wherever Jamie is. My half-formed smile cuts off abruptly when my gaze catches Solan’s. He looks…. Fuck. He’s devastated.

His red skin has lost its warm glow, looking almost ashen. Solan’s silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating. His usually bright, fiery gaze is dim, the tendrils of his hair curling inwards as if in retreat. The sight of him—a creature so full of power and life—reduced to this haunted, vulnerable version of himself sends a pang of guilt straight through me.

“Solan…,” I start, but he cuts me off, his voice low and strained.

“You wish to leave.” The words aren’t a question but a quiet, gut-wrenching conclusion. “You do not want this bond.”

“What?” I blink, startled. “That’s not what I?—”

“Why would you?” he interrupts, stepping back from me. His movements are slow, deliberate, like he’s fighting to keep himself together. The inches feel monumental. Too far. The distance is jagged and gaping, slicing pain into my gut. “I am a monster. You have called me that. Perhaps you meant it as… jest or mistake. But it is truth, isn’t it?” He gestures to himself, his four-fingered hands and towering red frame. “This form. This fire. I am not… human. And you….” His voice wavers. “You would not want this for Jamie. You want him free, with a choice.”

My heart hammers in my chest knowing I’ve caused him so much harm, so much pain. I know better. Should have done better. What the fuck had I been thinking being so damn careless… so insensitive? I open my mouth to protest, to apologise, to try to fix this, but he barrels on, his voice thick with emotion. “The bond is not a cage, Jack. It is completion. It is life. It is finding the one being made for you. Jamie… he would want this when the time comes. To find his fated. To feel whole.”

His pain is palpable, cutting through me like a blade. I don’t miss the way his gaze flickers over me, cataloguing every difference, every reason he thinks I might reject him. The fingers, the flames, the tendrils of his hair that I’ve been mesmerised by. Things I’ve called monstrous, even in passing.

Fuck, what have I done?

The term monster burns in my mind now, the casual way I’ve used it feeling like a slap to both of us.

“Solan,” I say, stepping towards him, but he retreats further, shaking his head. My heart cracks open, shame seeping through the break as emotion crawls up my throat.

“You wish for Jamie to have a choice,” he says, his voice cracking. “And you resent that you did not. That this bond was… forced upon you.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and damning. Do I resent it? I should, shouldn’t I? But the truth is more complicated than that. My feelings are a tangled mess of logic and instinct, doubt and undeniable connection.

“I don’t know what I feel,” I admit, my voice raw. Tears sting my eyes. “It’s too soon. Too much. I’m trying to figure it out.”

Solan flinches, and the sight of it twists something deep in my chest.

He retreats further, the space feeling like an expanse impossible to cross over.

No. No fucking way.

“But,” I race to add, willing to bare my soul, expose my damn throat if necessary, drop to my knees and beg for him to believe me as I take another step forwards and say, “I know one thing for certain.”

He doesn’t meet my gaze, his shoulders tense and braced for the worst.

“I don’t want to leave you.” My voice is firm despite the emotion I reveal, the tears clogging my throat. I exhale, and the truth of my words settles over me like a calming wave. “You’re mine, Solan.” Steel slithers into my tone, pushing away the swell of tears. “Whether it’s fate or whatever the hell brought us together, I’m not walking away.”

His eyes snap to mine, wide with something I can’t quite place—maybe relief, disbelief, hope all tangled together. His hair flares slightly, a flicker of life returning to it.

“Mine,” I repeat, softer this time. “I don’t have all the answers. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Solan exhales sharply as if he’s been holding his breath, but the tension in his frame doesn’t fully ease. “You say this now,” he murmurs, his voice still tinged with doubt. I want to smack myself in the nuts for causing this doubt. “But you still question. Still hesitate,” he adds.

“Of course I do,” I say, my honesty cutting through the crackling air between us. “This is big, Solan. Huge. But it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I don’t want to leave you. I want to figure this out, seal the deal, as it were. I’m all in.”

His expression softens, the fire in his wide gaze flickering back to life. “All in,” he echoes as if testing the words. He steps closer, and I drag in air, my relief immediate. His towering frame fills my vision, a comforting presence, overwhelming in the best way possible. “You are certain?”

“I’m certain,” I say, the steel in my voice returning. I reach for him and press a steady hand on his chest. “But I also want answers. About the merges, the rifts… everything. I can’t argue with fate, but if fate has a hand in this, it has to work both ways. If Jamie’s meant to stay, then fine. If he’s meant to go home, then we need to find a way to make it happen.”

Solan’s lips press into a thoughtful line, but there’s a flicker of understanding in his gaze. “You would trust fate?”

“Do I have a choice?” I shrug, a small wry smile tugging at my lips. “If this whole bond thing is fate, then yeah. I’m not about to argue with it. But it doesn’t mean we can’t try to figure things out along the way.”

He studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “You are… unpredictable,” he says, his voice lighter now, almost teasing. “I think I like that.”

“You’d better,” I shoot back, the tension easing between us.

His hair reaches towards me again, tentative but hopeful. I let out a shaky breath, feeling a small surge of warmth in my chest. I don’t have all the answers—not about Jamie, not regarding this bond, not for what the hell comes next. But standing here, with Solan’s fire brushing against my skin and his eyes locked on mine, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

I ask, my voice quiet, “What age can someone become… bonded?”

“In my world,” Solan says, his tone cautious, “it is… adulthood. For humans… I do not know. It is something you must… learn.”

I nod, my mind already churning with the implications. Jamie is young, but since bonding is a possibility for humans, it’s a danger I can’t ignore. It also means we have time. It doesn’t have to be worked out today, tomorrow, or even a year from now.

The knock comes again, sharp and impatient. Solan steps towards the door, his hair still flickering with residual agitation.

“Come,” he says, his voice tense but steady. “We must go.”

I follow him reluctantly, the weight of everything we’ve discussed pressing down on me. There’s no denying it anymore—this bond, this power, this world —it’s more than I ever bargained for. And somehow, I have to find a way to navigate it without losing myself—or the people I care about—in the process.