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Darius moves instantly. His arm wraps around my waist and lifts me off my feet as he whisks me into the chamber. "There!" He nods toward a narrow alcove carved into the far wall, barely visible through the swirling dust and debris.

We dive through the opening right as the main chamber's ceiling collapses, sealing us into what feels like a stone tomb. The alcove opens up enough to let us stand comfortably, the tall, carved stone walls creating a private sanctuary in the gloom. But with the darkness heavy around us, the small distance between our bodies feels charged, nudging us instinctively closer.

My shaking fingers trace a rapid sequence of lunate sigils against the carved stone, igniting the first pure, uncontaminated magic I've felt in months. A shimmering structural stasis field expands outward from our alcove, webbing across the main chamber's collapsing ceiling. It slows the catastrophic cave-in to a creeping crawl—buying Kellan and Lynn the time they need to evacuate the prisoners safely.

I drop my hand, feeling the spell lock securely into the stone. "That'll hold the roof for our people. The stasis field is self-sustaining, so it’ll stay put for a little bit without taking away from my supply of power. But... this is cozy.”

"Focus on the ritual," Darius says, but his voice betrays an edge I've never heard before—fear.

The lunar power writhes inside me, and I can feel it testing the boundaries of my control. Each thrum sends static crackling along the carved walls, illuminating symbols that look disturbingly familiar.

"Darius," I exhale the name, a breathless murmur in the quiet space. "I don't think we're getting out of here."

Neither of us speaks, the hush lingering until a distant rumble of falling stone echoes through the chamber.

"Soul-bonded," I finally murmur, the term feeling alien against the dark. "You dropped that little bombshell in the middle of an apocalyptic ritual and expected me to simply roll with it."

He looks away. "Seemed like relevant information at the time."

A strangled laugh rips through my chest. “Darius, your talk of cosmic soul-fusion is insane, especially given that an ancient entity was wearing me like a suit the entire time.”

"And yet your magic recognized it immediately." His thumb strokes the sensitive skin of my inner wrist, grounding me. "Your power already recognized the bond, Rene. Your logic just needed a minute to catch up."

He's right, the horrible, undeniable truth of it settles into my bones like something that was always there, waiting to be named. His touch always calmed my outbursts. His presence routinely turned chaotic magic into something I could actually wield. The wolf in him consistently responded to the moon in me as if they'd been having a conversation neither of us could hear.

"How long have you known?" I search his face in the light.

"Confirmed it when the blood moon started to rise. Suspected it for longer than I want to admit." He holds my stare and refuses to blink or look away. "I didn't tell you because you were already handling enough."

"So you carried it alone instead."

"That's what I do."

"That's what you used to do." I rest my palm against his chest, feeling the drumbeat of his heart beneath the armored gear. "We're bonded, Morvane. That means you don't get to hoard the heavy stuff anymore."

An authentic, unguarded expression breaks across his features—a mix of relief and the heavy, lingering exhaustion of days spent holding his breath, now finally granted permission to exhale.

When he finally speaks, his words are barely a whisper.

"You know what I realized while watching you nearly die for the third time this week?"

I manage a weak laugh despite everything. "That I'm a terrible investment?"

"That I've been an idiot. All these years, I convinced myself I was protecting people by staying distant and keeping myself detached from any emotional connections."

Another wave of the entity's rage crashes through me, and I bite back a scream. "Darius, this really isn't⁠—"

"But with you, I can't pretend anymore." He shifts closer, his hand finding mine in the cramped alcove. "I would choose you in every lifetime, Rene, regardless of the version of our story. I'd make that choice even if it ends with us buried under a few tons of Chicago."

The entity snarls inside my head as it tries to twist its words into something poisonous. But the soul bond we have holds unyieldingly, rooting me to something real and solidly mine.

"That's either the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me or the most morbid."

"With us? Probably both."

The laugh bubbles out of me, coarse and unexpected, amidst the dust and distant rumbles. It tastes like blood and adrenaline. "Cozy and morbid. You've outdone yourself, Morvane."

Darius wipes a smear of grime from my cheekbone, his gaze following the shape of my mouth. "That laugh. It cuts right through the bullshit. Your eyes always go silver when you're pissed, and you possess this impossible, infuriating habit of throwing yourself into fire." He pins me, his stare piercing through me as our bodies touch. "I love every damn thing about you, Rene. Everything."