Blood and Bonds
I dove sideways as the bolt punched through the space where my chest had been.
The stone floor slammed into my shoulder. Pain flared white-hot, but the bond was screaming louder—Elara's terror, Kira's desperation, Seraphine's cold fury all crashing through me like a tidal wave that had no beginning and no end. I couldn't tell which emotions were mine anymore. Couldn't tell where Jake stopped and everyone else began.
"Councilor Thrace." The Archmagus's voice cut through the chaos, formal and measured even as he stepped between me and the crossbow. "We did not summon you to this chamber."
"Forgive me, Archmagus." Thrace was already reloading, his fingers steady on the mechanism. "But you must understand—this creature cannot be allowed to live. Not after what it has seen."
Creature. The word hit harder than the bolt would have.
Seraphine moved. One second she was across the room, the next her sword was at Thrace's throat, the tip dimpling the skin just below his jaw. "You will lower the weapon. You will explain yourself. You will do both now."
No contractions. Every word a command. Through the bond I felt her rage, but her hand didn't shake. Didn't even tremble.
"Captain val Astoria." Thrace didn't lower the crossbow. "Stand aside. This is Council business."
"This is my business when you fire weapons in a sanctified ritual chamber." The sword pressed harder. A bead of blood welled up. "The Empath is under my protection."
"The Empath is a security risk." Thrace's eyes flicked to me, then back to Seraphine. "He has accessed classified information. Information that could destabilize the entire kingdom if it were to—"
"He accessed nothing." Elara's voice was ice. She'd moved to stand beside me, one hand extended like she could shield me with her body if Thrace fired again. "The bond malfunctioned. It was not his fault."
Liar. The word whispered through the bond before I could stop it. I felt Elara flinch, felt her guilt spike sharp and acidic. She knew exactly what the bond was doing. Knew it was spreading. Knew I was drowning in everyone's secrets and she hadn't warned me because—
Because she needed me to see. Needed me to understand what was at stake.
"Malfunctioned." Thrace's laugh was bitter. "Is that what we are calling treason now? A malfunction?"
The word hung in the air like smoke.
Treason.
I pushed myself up on shaking arms. The bond was still screaming, still pulling me in six directions at once, but I forced myself to focus. To ground. To remember that I was Jake Mercer, twenty-three years old, worked at a coffee shop, liked bad sci-fi movies, and definitely did not sign up for medieval political intrigue with crossbows.
"I don't know what you think I saw," I said. My voice came out steadier than I expected. "But I'm guessing it's the kind of thing that gets people killed for knowing about it, so maybe we could all just—"
"You saw everything." Thrace's knuckles were white on the crossbow. "Every secret. Every lie. Every compromise we have made to keep this kingdom from tearing itself apart. And now you are a liability we cannot afford."
"He is an Empath." Kira's voice was soft, but it cut through the tension like a knife. She'd moved closer, her hands still glowing with residual magic from the wards. "Killing him will not erase what he knows. It will only make him a martyr. And martyrs, Councilor, have a way of making secrets very loud."
Smart. Through the bond I felt her calculation, her desperate hope that logic would work where morality wouldn't. Felt her sister's face in her mind, pale and thin and locked in a cell somewhere I couldn't see clearly enough to—
Stop. I had to stop. Had to pull back before I lost myself completely in the flood of other people's pain.
"Then what do you suggest?" Thrace's finger was still on the trigger. "We simply allow him to wander the kingdom with knowledge that could start a war?"
"We bind him." The Archmagus spoke quietly, but everyone turned to look at him. "A geas. He cannot speak of what he has learned without permission from the Council. Cannot write it. Cannot communicate it in any form."
"No." Elara's hand found my arm, her grip tight enough to bruise. "Absolutely not. A geas that comprehensive would cripple his ability to function. He would not be able to speak freely about anything without constantly monitoring every word for potential violations."
"Then he should have been more careful about what he accessed." Thrace lowered the crossbow slightly, but his eyes never left me. "This is mercy, Princess. Be grateful we are offering it."
Princess. The title felt wrong in his mouth. Mocking.
Through the bond I felt Elara's fury spike, felt her hand twitch toward the dagger at her belt, felt her father's signature on the peace treaties she'd forged and the weight of that fraud pressing down on her like a physical thing and—
Oh.
Oh no.
That was the secret. That was what Thrace was so desperate to keep hidden. Not his secret. Hers.
Elara had committed treason to save the kingdom. Had forged her father's signature on peace treaties because he was too sick, too weak, too lost in grief over her mother's death to do it himself. And if anyone found out, if the other kingdoms discovered the treaties weren't legitimate, it would be an act of war. Would tear apart everything she'd been trying to hold together.
And I knew. Because the bond had shown me. Had ripped open her most carefully guarded secret and laid it bare in my mind where I couldn't unknow it, couldn't unsee it, couldn't pretend I hadn't felt her terror and desperation and the awful certainty that she was damning herself to save everyone else.
"Jake." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Please. Do not—"
"I won't." The words came out before I could think about them. "I won't say anything. About any of it. I swear."
"Your word means nothing." Thrace raised the crossbow again. "You are not bound by our laws. Not bound by our honor. You are a creature from another world who—"
"Who is standing right here listening to you talk about him like he is not a person." Seraphine's sword hadn't moved from Thrace's throat. "You will lower the weapon or I will remove your ability to hold one. Permanently."
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
Thrace stared at her. Seraphine stared back. Through the bond I felt her grief again, sharp and fresh, and underneath it something else. Something that made my chest ache with a longing that wasn't mine but felt like it was because the bond was still bleeding us all together and I couldn't tell where anyone ended anymore.
"Captain." Thrace's voice was very soft. "Are you truly willing to commit treason for a creature you met less than an hour ago?"
"I am willing to prevent murder in a sanctified chamber." Seraphine's hand didn't shake. "What you do after we leave this room is your concern. What you do in my presence is mine."
Stalemate.
I could feel it in the air, in the way everyone had gone very still, in the way Thrace's finger was still on the trigger but hadn't pulled it yet. Could feel the moment balanced on a knife's edge, ready to tip into violence or something worse.
"Enough." Elara's voice cracked like a whip. "Councilor Thrace, you will leave this chamber. Now. We will discuss this matter with the full Council present, not in the middle of a ritual space with weapons drawn."
"Princess—"
"That was not a request." She stepped forward, and through the bond I felt her pulling on every ounce of authority she had, every bit of royal training, every lesson in how to command without raising your voice. "You have violated sacred space. You have threatened a summoned being under my protection. You have drawn a weapon on the Archmagus himself. Leave. Now. Or I will have Captain val Astoria remove you by force."
For a long moment, Thrace didn't move.
Then he lowered the crossbow. Slowly. His eyes never left mine.
"This is not over," he said. "You understand that, yes? This is not over."
He turned and walked out. The door slammed behind him hard enough to make the wards flicker.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The bond was still screaming, still pulling, still trying to connect me to everyone and everything until I couldn't remember what it felt like to be alone in my own head. I wanted to throw up. Wanted to curl into a ball and wait for the world to stop spinning. Wanted to go home except I didn't have a home anymore, did I? Just this stone chamber and these people and their secrets that were eating me alive from the inside out.
"Jake." Elara's hand was still on my arm. "Are you—"
"Don't." I pulled away. Too hard. She stumbled back a step. "Don't ask me if I'm okay. Don't ask me anything. I can't—I can't think right now. Can't tell what's mine and what's yours and what's—"
The bond pulsed. Hard. Like a heartbeat that wasn't mine.
I felt Seraphine's grief again. Felt it wrap around me like a shroud. Felt the name Aldric carved into her heart like a scar that would never heal. Felt her standing at a grave in the rain, felt her hands shaking as she placed a sword on the stone, felt her turning away because if she looked back she would break and she couldn't afford to break, not when Elara needed her, not when the kingdom needed her, not when—
Oh.
Oh.
The grief wasn't just grief. It was love. Had always been love. Love for Aldric, yes, but also love for Elara. Love that Seraphine had buried so deep she'd almost convinced herself it wasn't there. Love that made every interaction with Elara a kind of exquisite torture because Elara was engaged, was promised to someone else, was untouchable in every way that mattered.
And I knew. Because the bond had shown me. Had ripped open Seraphine's most carefully guarded secret and laid it bare just like it had done with Elara, just like it was doing with everyone, and I couldn't stop it, couldn't control it, couldn't do anything but drown in other people's pain while they stared at me and waited for me to say something, do something, be something I wasn't.
"I need—" My voice cracked. "I need to not be here right now. I need to not be in anyone's head. I need—"
"The bond will stabilize." The Archmagus moved closer, his hands raised in a gesture that might have been soothing if I could feel anything besides the screaming in my skull. "It is overwhelming now, yes, but with time you will learn to control it. To filter what you receive. To—"
"To what?" I laughed. It came out wrong. Hysterical. "To pretend I don't know everyone's worst secrets? To smile and nod while I'm drowning in trauma that isn't even mine? To just—what, get used to it? Is that what you're saying?"
"I am saying you are not the first Empath to struggle with the initial bond." His voice was gentle. Too gentle. It made me want to scream. "And you will not be the last. But you will adapt. You will learn. You will—"
"Stop." Seraphine's voice cut through his platitudes like a blade. "Stop telling him what he will do. He is not a tool to be calibrated. He is a person who is suffering."
The Archmagus fell silent.
Seraphine turned to me. Her face was carefully blank, but through the bond I felt her concern, her guilt, her desperate need to fix this even though she didn't know how. Felt her love for Elara pulsing underneath it all like a wound that wouldn't close.
"Can you walk?" she asked.
I nodded. Didn't trust my voice.
"Then come with me." She glanced at Elara. "Princess, with your permission, I will escort the Empath to secure quarters. He needs rest. And privacy. And time to process what has occurred."
"Of course." Elara's voice was small. Through the bond I felt her guilt, her fear, her desperate wish that she could take it all back, could undo the summoning, could give me back the life I'd lost. "Jake, I am so—"
"Don't." I couldn't look at her. Couldn't bear to see her face when I could already feel everything she was feeling. "Just—don't. Not right now."
She flinched. I felt it through the bond like a physical blow.
Seraphine's hand found my elbow. Gentle. Steady. "Come."
The hallway outside the ritual chamber was blessedly empty.
Seraphine led me through a maze of corridors, her hand still on my elbow like she thought I might collapse if she let go. Maybe she was right. My legs felt like water. My head felt like it was full of broken glass. The bond was still there, still pulling, but the distance was helping. The further we got from the ritual chamber, the quieter it became. Not silent. Never silent. But manageable. Almost.
"Here." Seraphine stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. "These are guest quarters. They are warded against scrying and eavesdropping. You will be safe here."
Safe. The word felt like a joke.
She pushed the door open. The room beyond was small but comfortable—a bed, a desk, a window that looked out over what might have been a courtyard. Normal. Almost aggressively normal after everything that had just happened.
I stumbled inside. My legs gave out halfway to the bed. I ended up on the floor, my back against the wall, my head in my hands.
Seraphine closed the door. Locked it. Then she crossed the room and sat down beside me. Not touching. Just close enough that I could feel her presence without the bond screaming about it.
"I apologize," she said quietly. "For what occurred in the chamber. For Thrace. For all of it."
"Not your fault." My voice sounded like gravel. "You didn't shoot at me."
"No. But I brought you to this world. I participated in the ritual. I am complicit in your suffering."
I laughed. It came out bitter. "Pretty sure Elara's the one who summoned me. You were just—what, moral support?"
"I was her guard. Her protector. Her—" She stopped. pressed her lips together. "I should have stopped her. Should have argued more strongly against the summoning. Should have found another way to—"
"To what?" I turned to look at her. Her face was carefully blank, but through the bond I could feel everything underneath. The guilt. The grief. The love she'd been hiding for years. "To save the kingdom without dragging some random barista into your political nightmare?"
She didn't answer.
We sat in silence. The bond pulsed between us, quieter now but still there. Still connecting us in ways I didn't want to think about.
"You love her," I said. Didn't mean to say it. The words just came out, pulled from the bond like water from a well. "Elara. You're in love with her."
Seraphine went very still.
"I should not have said that." Her voice was carefully controlled. "That was inappropriate. You are exhausted and overwhelmed and I should not have—"
"I already know." I leaned my head back against the wall. "The bond showed me. Showed me everything. Aldric. The grief. The way you've been in love with her for years and never said anything because she's engaged and you're her guard and it would ruin everything if you—"
"Stop." Her hand found mine. Squeezed hard enough to hurt. "Please. Stop."
I stopped.
She was shaking. I could feel it through the bond, through the place where our hands touched. Could feel her terror that I would tell someone, that I would expose her, that I would take this secret and use it as a weapon the way Thrace wanted to use everything I knew.
"I won't tell anyone," I said. "I swear. I won't—I don't even know how to explain what I know without sounding insane. And I don't—I don't want to hurt you. Any of you. I just want to go home."
"I know." Her voice was very soft. "I know you do. And I am sorry. Truly. If there were a way to send you back, I would do it. But the summoning is permanent. There is no reversal. No way to undo what has been done."
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
Permanent.
No going back.
No home.
No life except this one, in this world, with these people and their secrets and their wars and their—
The bond pulsed. Hard. Like something had just connected.
I felt Elara. Felt her moving through the castle, felt her heading toward—
Toward Seraphine's quarters. No. Toward the wine cellar. Toward the place where Seraphine went when she needed to be alone, when she needed to drink until the grief stopped screaming, when she needed to pretend she wasn't in love with someone she could never have.
Except Elara was going there too. Was looking for Seraphine. Was desperate to apologize, to explain, to make things right even though she didn't know how.
"She's coming," I said. "Elara. She's looking for you."
Seraphine's hand tightened on mine. "How do you—"
"The bond. It's still connected to her. I can feel her moving. Feel her—" I stopped. cleared her throat. "She's scared. Thinks you're angry with her. Thinks she's lost you."
"She has not lost me." Seraphine's voice was rough. "She could never lose me. I would follow her into the abyss itself if she asked."
"Then maybe you should tell her that."
"I cannot." She pulled her hand away. Stood up. Paced to the window. "She is engaged. She is the heir to the throne. She is—"
"In love with you too."
The words hung in the air like a grenade with the pin pulled.
Seraphine turned. Stared at me. "What did you say?"
"I said she's in love with you too." I pushed myself up, my back still against the wall. "The bond showed me. Showed me everything. She's terrified of losing you. Terrified that you'll leave her. Terrified that she's not enough, that she's failing everyone, that she's—"
"Stop." Seraphine's voice cracked. "You do not know what you are saying. You are confused. The bond is showing you what you want to see, not what is real."
"I'm showing you what I felt." I took a step toward her. "What I'm still feeling. She loves you, Seraphine. Has loved you for years. And she thinks you don't feel the same way because you're so careful, so controlled, so—"
"So professional." Seraphine's laugh was bitter. "So appropriate. So determined not to ruin everything by admitting that I am in love with a woman I can never have."
"Except you can." I took another step. "She's not married yet. She's not—"
"She is engaged to a prince from the northern kingdoms. A political alliance that will secure peace for decades. Breaking that engagement would be—"
"Would be what? Treason? Like forging her father's signature on peace treaties?"
Seraphine went white.
"You knew," I said. Felt it through the bond. Felt her knowledge, her complicity, her desperate attempts to protect Elara from the consequences of her own actions. "You've known the whole time. You helped her. Covered for her. Made sure no one found out."
"I did what was necessary." Her voice was ice. "What Elara did saved the kingdom. Saved thousands of lives. If the treaties had not been signed—"
"I'm not judging." I held up my hands. "I'm just saying—if you can forgive her for committing treason, maybe you can forgive yourself for being in love with her."
Seraphine stared at me. Through the bond I felt her walls cracking, felt the grief and love and desperation she'd been holding back for years starting to bleed through. Felt her wanting to believe me, wanting to hope, wanting to—
The door burst open.
Elara stood in the doorway. Her hair was disheveled. Her eyes were red. She had a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.
"Seris," she said. Her voice was slurred. Drunk. "I need to talk to you. I need to—"
She stopped. Stared at me. Then at Seraphine.
"Oh," she said. "You are here. Both of you. That is—that is good. I think. Maybe. I do not know anymore. I do not know anything except that I ruined everything and I am sorry and I—"
She swayed. The bottle slipped from her hand.
Seraphine caught it before it hit the floor. Caught Elara too, one arm around her waist, holding her steady.
"How much have you had to drink?" Seraphine's voice was gentle. Too gentle.
"Not enough." Elara laughed. It came out wrong. Broken. "Never enough. Not when I keep seeing his face. Jake's face. When I pulled him from his world. When I ruined his life. When I—"
"You did not ruin his life." Seraphine guided her toward the bed. "You saved the kingdom. You did what was necessary."
"Did I?" Elara collapsed onto the mattress. "Or did I just make everything worse? Did I just—Seris, I cannot do this anymore. I cannot keep pretending. Cannot keep lying. Cannot keep—"
"Keep what?" Seraphine knelt beside the bed. Her hand found Elara's. "What can you not keep doing?"
"Pretending I do not love you."
The words fell into the silence like stones into water.
Seraphine froze.
Elara laughed again. Bitter. Broken. "There. I said it. I love you. Have loved you for years. And I know you do not feel the same way. I know you are professional and appropriate and you would never—"
"I love you too."
Elara stopped. Stared. "What?"
"I love you too." Seraphine's voice was shaking. "I have loved you since the day you took the throne. Since the day you stood