Renee stood in the hallway, back pressed against the stone wall outside the restroom, pulse racing.

Her fingers trembled slightly as they hovered near her lips, which still felt swollen from Sylus’s kiss. Her neck tingled where his mouth had pressed against her skin, where he’d found the spot.

The bond.

There was no mistaking it now. Not after what she’d felt. Not after the way her magic jumped at his touch like a long-lost chord had finally been strummed.

Her stomach twisted.

She wasn’t supposed to feel that with anyone else.

She had Damien. She had built something steady, strong, and honest. So why… why did her body feel like it had betrayed her?

And worse… why did a small part of her want to go back in?

No.

She straightened, inhaling hard through her nose, face cold and composed again by sheer force of will. Her shoes clicked against the stone as she walked — not too fast. Not running.

She had control.

She always had control.

Inside the restroom, Sylus hadn't moved.

He stood frozen in place, his breath slower now, eyes still locked on the door she’d vanished through.

He had kissed her.

She had kissed him back.

She had felt it — he saw it in her eyes when her soul caught up to what his dragon had known for weeks.

And then she’d run.

He let out a slow breath, dragging a hand through his hair, jaw tight, eyes clouded with something too complex for fury and sharp for heartbreak.

But still, underneath it all… was relief.

She finally knew.

And knowing was the beginning.

Renee left the Academy in silence.

She didn’t speak to Damien. Didn’t check the time. She walked out of the stone arches and vanished through the royal gate with nothing but the memory of his mouth on hers and the unbearable pressure of something unfinished inside her.

The mate bond had tried to snap.

She’d felt it.

The spark, the heat, the pressure threading into her chest — all unmistakable. But then... nothing. It had recoiled before settling. No click. No anchor. No sealing.

Just silence.

By the time she reached the sapphire chamber of the Nosfera royal palace, her pulse hadn’t slowed.

The room fell quiet the moment she stepped in.

Her mother, Queen Valethrina, and father, King Cael, sat in council with her brothers, Thalor and Damon. But all conversation stopped the second they saw her face.

Thalor stood first. “Renee?”

She walked in, voice steady despite the storm beneath.

“Is it possible to feel a mate bond begin… but not fully snap?”

Silence.

Valethrina rose from her seat, her brows pulling in. “Start it… but not complete it?”

Renee nodded once. “This morning. With Sylus. He followed me, we argued—then he kissed me. And I felt it. The bond tried to form. It was there—burning through me. But then… it didn’t seal. It just stopped. I felt it pull… then vanish.”

Cael leaned forward, concern behind his calm. “And you’re sure it was the bond?”

“I’ve felt nothing like it before,” Renee said quietly. “Not even when I chose Damien. This was instinctual. Raw. But it was like something blocked the final step.”

Thalor frowned. “Could it have been you? Subconsciously pulling away?”

“No,” she said. “I didn’t resist it. I didn’t know what was happening until it was almost over.”

Valethrina and Cael exchanged a look — both troubled.

Valethrina returned to her seat slowly. “This shouldn’t happen. If the bond initiated naturally, it should have either connected… or failed. But halfway?”

Damon shifted in his chair. “So what do we do?”

“We speak with the Drakaryth family,” Cael said firmly. “As soon as possible.”

Thalor nodded. “If there’s something unique about Sylus or this bond, we need clarity. And quickly. Evolver or not, she can’t afford instability in her soul.”

Valethrina looked at Renee. “You’ve done nothing wrong. We’ll handle this. But we need to understand what happened.”

Renee nodded once.

And for the first time that day, she let herself breathe.

Later that day, Renee stood before Damien’s door, a knot in her chest that wouldn’t unravel. Everything she had felt since the kiss — the heat, the confusion, the pull that never landed — still swirled beneath her skin.

He opened the door before she knocked.

His eyes scanned her face, instantly reading the storm behind her calm. He said nothing — just stepped aside.

She entered without a word.

The room was warm and familiar—their room in every way except name.

She sat on the bed, back straight, hands clasped in her lap.

“I need to tell you something,” she said.

Damien sat beside her, slower. Quiet.

“I’m listening.”

“It wasn’t planned,” she began. “It just happened. Sylus followed me this morning. He confronted me. And then… he kissed me.”

Damien’s body went still.

Her voice didn’t shake, but it didn’t soften either. “I didn’t expect it. I didn’t feel anything for him before. But the second it happened, something ignited. It felt like a bond starting. A mate bond.”

His breath caught — but he didn’t interrupt.

“It didn’t seal,” she added quickly. “It surged through me like it was about to lock… and then stopped. Like something tried and failed. It never completed.”

Damien nodded slowly, gaze lowered. “So he’s your mate.”

“…Yes.”

The word sat like an iron between them.

After a moment, Damien’s voice came low — not angry, but raw.

“You didn’t know?”

“No,” she said. “Not until that exact second. I swear to you, Damien. Nothing before that. Not even a whisper of it.”

He exhaled slowly, his fingers curling against his leg, jaw shifting as he wrestled through thought.

Then he looked at her, and what showed in his eyes wasn’t an accusation.

It was truth.

“I know you,” he said. “And I know what kind of woman you are. If that was a bond forming… you’ll honor it.”

Renee blinked, taken aback. “You’re not angry?”

“I’m… hurting,” he admitted. “But not because of Sylus. I’m hurting because I can see how torn you are. And I hate that you’re carrying it alone.”

She reached for him — not to justify herself, but to hold something solid.

“I didn’t ask for this,” she said softly. “I didn’t want it. But it happened. And the only thing I wanted to do afterward… was come to you.”

Damien nodded again.

Then, finally, let his hand wrap around hers.

“Because we’re more than instinct,” he said. “We’re Chosen. And I’m not stepping aside just because another thread showed up.”

Her voice broke then, just a little. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then you won’t.”

She leaned into him, forehead to his chest, and they just breathed together for a while — steadying. Aligning.

And later, when they kissed, it was slower. Not to claim, not to prove.

To feel.

They didn’t talk more that night. They didn’t have to.

Because even in the storm of awakening, this was still her anchor.

And Damien?

Damien had known that one day, fate might pull at her in another direction.

But he’d also known something else.

She would never run from the truth.

And he would never run from her.