POV: Lyra
I see what the bond-blind miss.
The aftermath of the kiss hangs heavy over camp like smoke. Draco stands on one side, trying and failing to look unaffected. His eyes keep drifting to Aphrodite, checking on her every few seconds. The bond between them practically glows, newly acknowledged and impossible to ignore.
Aphrodite sits by the fire, staring into flames without really seeing them. Her shoulder is bandaged, but the physical wound isn't what's hurting her. It's the emotional one, the guilt written clearly across her face.
And somewhere in the darkness, Lucen is running from what he saw. I felt him leave through the disturbance in the air, the way the group's energy shifted when one of its members tore away.
This is messy. Complicated. Exactly what happens when you have multiple mate bonds forming simultaneously without clear rules or precedents.
But it's also real. More real than anything I witnessed growing up in Nightfang.
