The kiss still lingered on my lips.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not in a breathless, world‑ending way.
Just… there.
A quiet truth sitting between us like a third heartbeat.
Oliver stepped back first, eyes wide, pupils blown, the shard’s glow catching on the edge of his jaw. He looked like someone who had just survived a lightning strike and wasn’t sure whether to laugh or check for burns.
I wasn’t much better.
The bond hummed between us, warm, steady, too aware.
We didn’t speak.
We didn’t need to.
A door creaked open down the hall.
Castor stepped out, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. His hair was a mess, his shirt half‑tucked, and he looked… human. Tired. Older.
He blinked at us.
Then blinked again.
Then frowned.
“Why do you both look like you’ve been struck by lightning?”
Oliver choked on air.
I stared very hard at the wall.
Castor’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Oliver said too quickly.
“Nothing,” I echoed, equally unconvincing.
Castor stared between us for a long, slow moment.
Then he sighed. “I don’t have the energy for whatever this is.”
He stepped past us, stretching his arms overhead. “We should go. The Waterfall won’t wait forever.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “Right. Yes. The Waterfall.”
The bond pulsed, amused.
I ignored it.
We stepped out into the early morning air. The sky was pale gold, the kind of soft light that made the world look gentler than it was. The path toward the Waterfall wound through the trees, damp earth soft beneath my feet, squishing into my toes.
Castor walked ahead, scanning the forest with the practiced ease of someone who had spent too many years expecting danger.
Oliver walked beside me.
Too close.
Not close enough.
The bond hummed, warm and aware, brushing against my ribs like a hand that remembered exactly where it had been.
Oliver’s fingers brushed mine by accident.
We both froze.
Not dramatically, just a tiny, startled pause.
He didn’t pull away.
I didn’t either.
Castor glanced back. “You two coming?”
We both jerked forward at the same time, nearly tripping over each other.
Castor stared. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” we said in unison.
He groaned. “Gods, you’re unbearable.”
He turned back around, muttering under his breath.
Oliver exhaled slowly. “So… that happened.”
I swallowed. “It did.”
A beat.
Another.
The bond warmed, shy and certain.
Oliver’s voice dropped. “Are you… okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “Are you?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Just… processing.”
“Same.”
We walked in silence for a moment.
Not awkward.
Not tense.
Just… aware.
Every step felt different now. Every breath. Every glance. The world hadn’t changed, but something between us had something quiet and steady and terrifyingly real.
Castor stopped at the edge of the clearing. “We’re close.”
The roar of the Waterfall echoed through the trees, familiar and grounding.
Oliver looked at me.
I looked at him.
And for the first time since the kiss, we didn’t look away.
Castor groaned loudly. “If you two start making eyes at each other again, I’m throwing myself into the river.”
I snorted.
Oliver laughed under his breath.
The bond pulsed warm, bright, certain.
We stepped into the clearing together.
Something in the air tightened. We were not alone.