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Crack!

Fire explodes above my head. I jerk back, nearly falling as flames erupt from a single branch of the White Oak. Bits of fire lick up and down its bark, not spreading or catching, but burning steadily on that one branch.

The leaves go first, disintegrating and blowing away on a wind that returned as suddenly as it left.

The flames shoot into the sky like fireworks. Sap boils and pops like gunshots. Bark peels in blackened strips before turning to ash.

I stumble back further, convinced the whole tree is about to go up in flames.

Fuck! It’s going to catch, and light this entire Fates-damned meadow on fire. I have to do something. Have to figure out how to put it out. Have to⁠—

SNAP!

The sound echoes around the meadow. The whoosh of the fire flaring hotter and larger forces me back yet another step. At the same time, my hand flies to my sternum where the Bond in my chest catches fire.

The gold thread is wound tightly around the silver and stays dimly lit, but solid. But silver thread lights up like someone poured gasoline on it and struck a match. It’s searing, pulsing, pulling.

The golden thread winds tighter around the silver, but the silver⁠—

The silver thread demands my attention.

The fire in my chest is hotter than the warmth of the fire on my face.

My Bond with Idril is insistent. Yanking and pulling. Forcing me to pay attention. The third time it yanks, the bark on the White Oak blackens, right before the entire branch drops through the leaves of the canopy. Charred ash falls like rain, guttering out before touching the grass. I throw my hands up to protect myself, eyes slamming shut.

Everything quiets. No fire, no crackling, no wind.

Nothing.

I open my eyes.

And there she is.

Blinking rapidly, like she isn’t used to the sunlight. She raises an arm to shield her eyes, like a fucking angel come to Earth.

Fates. The fire wasn’t destroying anything—it was summoning her.

I stand here like an idiot, eyes wide and chest pumping, unable to catch my breath. The Bond in my chest thrums and vibrates in satisfaction. I don’t care about wrapping my mind around a Mate Bond having such obvious feelings, though.

Because my Mate is here. Standing in front of me.

She’s here. She’s real. She’s mine.

My lungs stutter. I can’t get enough air.

Idril blinks slowly, her gaze unfocused and confused as she tries to make sense of what’s happening. She lowers her arm as her eyes adjust, and then those beautiful blue eyes that I can’t stop thinking about, focus on me.

And everything stops.

There you are.

She stares at me in shock, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. She’s frozen— probably as terrified as I am to make a move, just in case doing so tears us away from each other.

There are three feet and a chasm of emotions between us. Both frozen in shock. Both terrified to believe what we’re seeing is real.

Then slowly, so fucking slowly, she raises a shaking hand to her mouth, and my beautiful, perfect Mate breaks.

She sobs silently, folding over and collapsing on herself. Tears spill in shimmering tracks down her too-pale cheeks.