MAY
She runs.
Not because she wants to.
Not because she's afraid for herself.
She runs because the bond forces her body to move — a pulse like lightning shooting through her legs, dragging her backward as Nathel shouts her name.
Her chest burns.
Her vision blurs.
Every heartbeat feels like she's being pulled in two directions — one toward safety, the other toward him.
"Nathel!"
She turns in time to see the shadow surge forward, stretching long, wicked limbs across the pavement.
Her scream chokes in her throat.
Nathel doesn't back away.
He steps toward it.
The air around him shimmers — just barely — like heat rippling at the edge of a flame. His stance tightens, body shifting in a way she's never seen before.
Predatory.
Controlled.
Unyielding.
The bond yanks painfully against her ribs.
Go to him.
Stay.
Run.
Return.
It's like being cut open from the inside.
The shadow flickers — a jerking motion — as if sniffing the energy between them.
Nathel lifts his hand, palm open.
"You don't touch her," he growls.
The shadow tilts its head — a mimic of curiosity, its movements too sharp, too unnatural.
May's breath catches.
For a split moment… she feels it.
Like a whisper under her skin.
Found… you…
Her heart stops.
The shadow speaks — not aloud, but inside her bones.
Nathel snaps his head toward her, eyes widening.
"You heard it," he breathes. "No— no, no, that means the bond—"
The shadow lunges.
Nathel moves first.
He slams his hand into the air between them and the space shatters outward — like invisible glass bursting in a ripple of force.
The creature recoils, body folding in on itself like smoke collapsing.
May stumbles back.
"Nathel! What is happening—?!"
He doesn't look at her — his attention locked on the creature.
"It remembers us," he says tightly. "It remembers the bond. It shouldn't, but it does."
The shadow rises again, unbroken.
It stretches a long limb toward May.
Nathel's voice drops to a roar:
"OVER MY DEAD BODY!"
He rushes forward — and for the first time May sees it:
Not magic.
Not power.
Something older.
Something forbidden.
His hands pulse with light — faint, silver, shifting — like moonlight reflected in water. The creature lashes at him, but the moment its darkness touches his light, it jerks away with a shrill, silent wail.
May gasps.
"Nathel— what are you?!"
He doesn't answer.
He slams his palm into the ground and a shockwave erupts outward, hurling the creature across the street. It crashes into a wall, its form dispersing like ash in the wind.
For a moment — everything is still.
Nathel's chest heaves.
Sweat beads at his temple.
Then he turns to May.
He opens his mouth—
But the shadow reappears behind him.
"Nathel—!"
He twists—
Too late.
The creature's arm spears through him like smoke turned solid, piercing straight through his back.
May screams — the sound ripping out of her throat violently.
The bond ignites.
Pain.
Fire.
Light.
Her body convulses as the echo of his pain slams into her — shared, instant, devastating.
Nathel falls to his knees, gasping.
The shadow leans close to him — a whispering hiss vibrating in the air.
May hears it again.
…bond… awakened… harvest… begins…
Nathel forces himself upright, blood trailing from his mouth.
"May—" he rasps. "Don't— come closer—"
But she can't help it.
She takes one step toward him.
Then another.
The shadow turns toward her—
Nathel roars like something feral, yanking the creature's arm out of his own body and unleashing another burst of silver shockwave that flings it across the street again.
This time it dissolves — evaporating into a cloud of black dust that spirals upward and vanishes into the sky.
The wind stills.
The world freezes.
Nathel collapses.
May runs to him, catching his body before it hits the ground completely.
"Nathel—! Nathel, stay with me!"
His breathing is ragged.
Shallow.
Barely there.
But he looks up at her — eyes dim but soft.
"You… you weren't supposed to remember anything yet," he whispers.
Her tears fall onto his shirt.
"Why did you protect me? Why didn't you run?"
A faint smile touches his lips.
"Because…"
He winces hard.
"…I always run toward you. Never away."
Her chest breaks.
The bond pulses — weak, cracked, but alive — linking their pain, their fear, their hearts.
He touches her cheek with trembling fingers.
"The shadow found us… earlier than it should have," he whispers.
"Nathel, you're bleeding—"
"I'm fine," he lies.
"You're not fine!"
He struggles to sit up, gripping her hand.
"May… listen to me…"
She leans closer, shaking.
"The Keeper," he whispers.
"You need to find her."
"She's the only one who can tell you… what you asked me to forget."
May freezes.
"What I asked you to forget?"
He nods weakly.
"And why the bond… was never supposed to wake again."
He slumps forward, losing consciousness in her arms.
May's scream tears through the night —
And the bond explodes inside her like a star breaking open.