The kitchen always smelled like safety.
Even here — even in a castle full of wolves and whispers and shadows — the kitchen glowed like a different world. Warm, humming, soft.
Maela was already rolling out dough when I slipped in through the side door.
She looked up, not surprised in the slightest.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite little ghost," she said with a grin. "You move quieter than the guards, sweetheart."
"Force of habit," I mumbled, hugging my arms to my chest.
She squinted at me. "You look like you've been arguing with dreams."
I didn't deny it.
Because she wasn't wrong.
She dusted her hands off and poured a mug of something warm and spiced, sliding it toward me on the counter. I took it gratefully.
"You eating anything today?" she asked.
"I'm not really hungry."
"Try again."
I sighed. "Toast, maybe."
She gave me the look — the one I'd seen her give Elion when he tried to get out of vegetables.
"You'll have eggs, toast, and one of those cinnamon stars I made before sunrise."
"Maela…"
"You'll eat, or I'll march you into Kael's office and tell him you're planning to pass out in his war room."
That got a dry laugh out of me.
"Okay," I said. "Deal."
I sat in my usual spot, tucked near the warm oven.
It took me a minute before I realized I was staring blankly into my mug.
Maela caught it too.
"You feelin' off again?" she asked more gently now.
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
"It's been happening more often," I admitted. "Not full collapses, not like before… but waves. Like my chest gets tight. Like I'm overheating from the inside. My head spins, and I feel like I need to… get away. Or toward something. I can't tell."
She raised an eyebrow.
"How long has this been going on?"
"About a week."
She paused.
Then, with that half-smirk only a woman who's lived through everything can wear, she said, "Well, gods help me — if you're not describing an ancient mating bond flare-up, I'll eat my rolling pin."
I blinked. "...What?"
She waved her hand, chuckling to herself as she kneaded dough. "It's just an old tale. From my grandma's grandma's time. They used to say that sometimes, when a bond was meant to form but hadn't yet — the female, or sometimes the magically sensitive one — would feel it first. And not the way you'd think."
"How?"
"Not with joy. With discomfort. Pull. Resistance." She glanced at me. "Like a thread tied to your ribs, yanking too early. Painful, because it's reaching for someone who hasn't reached back yet."
I stared at her, heartbeat skipping.
"I thought it was just a fairytale," I whispered.
"Could be. But fairytales usually start with someone feeling strange at the wrong time."
My stomach flipped.
"I'm not mated," I said too quickly. "There's no bond. There can't be."
"Who said anything about a bond?" Maela asked, giving me a cheeky smile. "I'm just talkin'. You're the one lookin' pale like you saw a ghost wearing a crown."
I nearly choked on my tea.
She winked and went back to her dough.
But my mind wouldn't let it go.
A bond that forms late. A pull felt only on one side. Illness. Sensitivity. Magic slipping out of control.
It wasn't just me.
It was Kael.
It had always been Kael.
And suddenly the pendant at my neck felt heavy.
Like it knew something I didn't.