Page 10 of A Cruel Kindness

I’d seen photos of him in the years since he got drafted, but it would take me a while to get used to just how muscular, just how imposing he was. And figure out how to resist my stomach tightening in response.

I carefully moved toward the open chair, only to see it scrape away from me and slide as close to Soren’s chair as it could get. I looked up with drawn brows, confused what game he was trying to play, only to find him with a similarly confused look on his face, like he wasn’t aware he’d moved the chair until it already happened.

Peter let out a disbelieving laugh as I slowly sat down in the chair, dropping his head to his hands and muttering a prayer for God to give him strength. “Alright,” he said after a moment, clapping his hands together. I jumped at the sound, somehow moving close enough to Soren to feel the heat radiating off his skin.

That … calmed me.

Peter blew out a heavy breath. “Bellamy, how much do you know about the actual … mechanics of the Bond between paranimas.”

I had half a mind to snap why don’t you ask Soren? but decided against it. I breathed in, setting my spine straight. “I know that it's the strongest of the Bonds.” I snuck an uneasy look at Soren, which only confirmed the fact that he was staring at me like I was sprouting two heads.

Peter made an affirming sound and spoke, even though neither Soren nor I were looking at him. “That’s correct. There are several physical symptoms attached to the Bond that are … well, let’s say they aren’t publicized.” I recognized that Peter was speaking and was saying things that I’d never heard before, not even after the lengthy debrief I was given by the priestesses, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off Soren.

“And though refusal to make eye contact with people other than your Match is not commonly accepted as one of them.” My gaze snapped back to Peter guiltily, his sly comment hitting true. “I’d rather read them out to you for clarity’s sake.”

Peter opened his desk drawer and pulled out a file with one hand, while placing a pair of thick framed glasses on his proud nose with the other. I could feel Soren shift next to me, and I hated to admit it, but I understood the feeling.

My body felt restless, like I shouldn’t be just sitting here. Or maybe it was where I was sitting? Who knew.

A moment later, Soren’s hand slipped over the back of my chair and his fidgeting stopped for a second.

Peter pulled out a paper from the file and cleared his throat to read. “Symptoms of paranimas, or a Soul Match, include—Irritability towards perceived threats, particularly suitors,” he said that word carefully, with a note of disgust, like it didn’t fully capture the behavior he’d seen. With each symptom he listed off, the reality of my new situation became much clearer. “Extreme protectiveness, including relating to food, health, and most notably, injuries.” Well, that would explain Soren’s reaction to my stomach earlier.

“Uncomfortability with periods of prolonged physical separation.” Peter scoffed, shaking his head with a sarcastic laugh. “There is a note here that irritation has been recorded for periods as short as one minute.”

Great, I couldn’t get even a minute away from Soren? That would be incredibly—well, I was going to finish that thought with annoying, but that didn’t seem right.

Inconvenient, given my priorities once we got to Muli.

Peter groaned, regaining my attention. “I don’t get paid enough for this,” he grumbled. Then louder, “Other reported symptoms include—increased physical attraction, which has recorded to be painful if resisted too long.” Oh. My. God. “And in ninety-nine percent of all Matches…” Peter paused for a moment, his eyes flashing to Soren. “Permanent emotional bonding.”

I knew, I knew what that meant, but I still asked, “What does that mean?”

Soren’s heavy exhale answered. “It means falling in love.” He wasn’t looking at me, not yet. Just staring at Peter. “Finish, Peter. There’s one more.”

Peter swallowed thickly, his weathered hands tightening on the paper. “Sickness upon death of paranima.”

“What?” I breathed. I knew that paranimas didn’t tend to last very long after their other half’s death, but no one told me it was an inevitability.

“It means if one of us dies, the other does too. Just slow and painful,” Soren answered.

My chest felt like it was going to collapse in on itself. I thought I’d been prepared to deal with it, but this suddenly felt like something far bigger than me. Doubt crept in, telling me I couldn’t do this. I forcefully shoved it away, holding tighter to my commitment to be here.

Besides, everyone knew that once you were in this, there was no getting out.

Paranimas were a source of social fascination. The news found it charming to relay stories of someone cutting off a hand for touching their Match without permission, calling it romantic instead of brutal. The Emperor, and by proxy my family, was the first to hear when someone who died on the front lines three years ago, only for their paranima to go insane and beg for death in the weeks after.

I’d known this bond was something unique, something that would last a lifetime. I just hadn’t come to terms with the fact it would be with Soren.

“Has anyone resisted the symptoms?” I asked through gritted teeth, my jaw aching from the force.

Peter’s eyes stole to Soren for just a second, before he cleared his throat. “There has been one recorded Match to resist the symptoms. Everyone else is…”

“Disgustingly in love and discharged or dead,” Soren supplied, his tone hard.

Oh, he would rather choose death, wouldn’t he? He didn’t want this. He hated everything I stood for, and this was probably a fate worse than death to have the threat of loving me hanging over his head.

He wasn’t the only one who wasn’t happy about this.