CHAPTER 126: CRACKS IN THE BOND

Chapter 126: Cracks in the Bond

Josie

It felt like the world had shrunk down to just us—the four of us in the dining hall, the air thick and heavy with silence. Even the clink of cutlery had faded, as if time itself had stopped holding its breath.

The burn of coffee still lingered faintly on my skin, but I barely noticed it now. My heart thudded in my ears as their hands steadied me, as their touch anchored me. For one fragile moment, it felt like maybe things weren’t so broken after all.

Then Liam’s voice broke through.

"So dramatic," he drawled, his tone sharp enough to splinter the moment in half. "And you all call me the chaotic one."

I stiffened instantly, the fragile warmth collapsing into irritation. Without even turning to look at him, I muttered, "You’re not needed here, Liam. Go back to the cottage."

He let out a mocking laugh. "Not needed? That’s funny. You’d all be lost without me."

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a glance. My jaw clenched as I raised my chin, addressing the guard near the doorway instead. "Escort him back. Now."

Liam’s laughter faltered. "What—"

"Now." My voice cut through, colder than I’d expected, colder than I usually allowed myself to be.

For a second, silence stretched, and I could feel his glare burning into the side of my face. But finally, the guard moved forward, and with a muttered curse under his breath, Liam let himself be led away. The door closed behind him with a heavy thud.

And then it was just us.

The sudden quiet felt both heavier and lighter all at once.

My gaze moved over them slowly—Kiel, who still held my arm gently as if afraid I might collapse; Varen, whose jaw was tense but eyes were unreadable; Thorne, looming like a stormcloud, arms crossed as though holding himself back from saying something sharp.

Kiel’s grip lingered, steady, reassuring. "You’re sure you’re all right?" he asked, voice softer than I expected. His thumb brushed once against my skin before he finally released me, stepping back.

I nodded, though my chest still ached. "I’m fine." The words were automatic, hollow.

They exchanged a look, a flicker of silent communication that made me feel like an outsider even here. Then Varen cleared his throat. "We have things to do."

My stomach dropped. The words weren’t cruel, but they sliced all the same.

"Things..." My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard. "Things that involve me?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

They looked at each other, their expressions unreadable, as if the answer was some secret not meant for me. Watching them trade that look, that wordless agreement, made something inside me shrivel.

I forced a smile, brittle and sharp around the edges. "Of course not," I said lightly, pretending my chest wasn’t hollowing out. "Don’t mind me. Go do what you want."

My fake cheer scraped against my throat, leaving splinters.

Their auras pressed faintly against me, uncertain, hesitant, as if they weren’t sure whether to argue or simply walk away. In the end, hesitation wasn’t enough to hold them. One by one, they turned their backs, their footsteps carrying them out of the hall.

The door closed behind them, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

Tears pricked hot against my eyes. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep them from spilling, but the ache in my chest spread, sharp and unbearable. I was losing them. My mates. The bond that was supposed to tie us together felt like it was unraveling thread by fragile thread, and I was the one pulling it apart.

There were no words for how much it hurt.

Without Marcy, I retreated to my room, forcing myself into clothes that fit a little too tightly at the seams. My movements were stiff, mechanical, as if dressing myself could distract from the hollowness in my chest.

By the time I stepped back into the halls with two guards trailing at a distance, the pack was already buzzing with morning life. Laughter echoed faintly, the sound of children running, voices overlapping in conversation. It should have been comforting. Instead, it reminded me of how out of place I felt.

As we passed the training grounds, my stomach twisted. The air still carried the faint, sharp scent of scorched earth, the remnants of my loss of control yesterday. Everywhere I looked, I could see the echoes of damage I’d caused—the cracks, the blackened patches, the lingering fear etched into the expressions of those who caught sight of me.

My heart dropped further when I saw her.

A little girl crouched in the garden’s edge, shoulders shaking as tears slipped down her cheeks. Her tiny hands reached toward a withered plant, its once-bright petals now shriveled and brown.

"It was my favorite," she sobbed, her voice carrying, raw and broken.

Her mother called for her from across the yard, and the girl sniffled, wiping at her cheeks as she scrambled away. I stood frozen, guilt clawing up my throat. That plant had died because of me. Because of my storm.

When the area emptied, I knelt before the wilted stalk. My hands hovered uncertainly over it before I closed my eyes, drawing in a breath. Carefully, I pressed the threads of life back into it, willing it to flourish, to breathe again.

At first, the stem straightened, color rushing faintly back into the petals. But then—

A whisper.

Low. Sinister.

You will destroy them all.

The voice slithered through my mind like venom. My eyes flew open, and the plant’s petals quivered as though mocking me, its brief bloom turning brittle again.

I flinched back, my chest seizing with panic. Without thinking, I scrambled to my feet and fled, my pulse hammering.

And of course—because fate had a twisted sense of humor—I collided with him.

Liam.

For the second time that morning.

He steadied himself easily, but his eyes burned into me, sharp and accusing. His mouth was set in a grim line, his jaw tight with irritation.

"I have to go," I blurted, trying to push past him, desperate to escape the weight of his stare.

But his hand shot out, fingers clamping around my arm. "Not so fast."

I froze, breath catching.

"What right do you think you have to speak to me the way you did back there?" he demanded, voice low but dangerous, every word punctuated with his grip tightening. "In front of the Alphas, no less."

Heat surged through me—anger, humiliation, defiance all tangled together. I wrenched my arm, glaring up at him. "You were the one out of line, Liam. You need to know your place. You’re my teacher, not my friend, and certainly not anything more. You don’t get to wedge yourself into my life like that. I won’t tolerate it anymore."

His smirk returned, sharp and cruel. "And what are you going to do about it, Josie? You need me."

I barked a laugh, bitter and raw. "You wish that were the case." My glare sharpened, slicing between us like a blade. "Stop being so delusional, Liam."

For a moment, we just stood there, his hand still on my arm, my fury locked against his arrogance. The air between us thrummed with tension, tight enough to snap.

And in the back of my mind, the plant’s whisper echoed again—dark, accusing, inevitable.

You will destroy them all.