Page 84 of Twisted Bonds
“We’ll pause here to wait for Bobble to return.”
Each agonizing second drags on like a weight tied to my ankles, pulling us further and further away from our goal. The desperation in my chest rises like a wave, threatening to drown me in despair as the seconds continue to tick past at an excruciatingly slow pace.
“It feels like he’s just getting farther away,” Mira finally whispers. “He’s been gone for a while. Should we go after him?”
The shake in her voice sets my hackles up.
“Give him time,” I say, my voice soothing despite the spike of fear in my chest. “He’s good at this.”
“Is he good at getting lost, too?” Callum chimes in from the shadows, the familiar sharp edge to his words igniting a thread of irritation in me.
“Quiet,” I grit out, my hands balling into fists as I fight to keep my temper in check. I reach for the thread one more time, pulling it to me. Urging him back, but he’s not responding.
“Something is wrong. I should go after him,” I say.
“No.” Callum interjects, his voice echoing off the tunnel walls. “We stick together and head into the castle. He’ll find us.”
“No,” Mira says at the same time I say, “without Bobble?”
“The longer we stay in one spot, the more danger we’re putting ourselves in. We go on.”
“Go ahead,” I spit back at him, my patience thinning as rapidly as my hope. “Because from where I’m standing, he’s much more valuable to us than you are.”
“Get over yourself, Sunder.” His bitter tone cuts into the silence of the tunnels like a shard of glass. “Calling yourself the First Shard doesn’t put you in charge.”
I glare at his faint outline in the gloom, my chestnut eyes searing into his stony figure. My fists are clenched so tightly that I can feel my nails biting into my palms.
Before either of us can continue, hurried footsteps sound at the entrance of the tunnel. Flickering torchlight closes in around us. Damn it, we’ve been too loud. My heart pounds in my chest as a silhouetted figure rounds the corner.
“You lot!” the figure shouts, stopping dead in his tracks and unsheathing his sword with a sharp metallic clang that rings through the tunnels, echoing back in a chilling reminder of our precarious situation. He’s alone. A scout, maybe.
That gives us a tiny window.
Before anyone can react, I’m rushing toward him, barreling at full force into the semi-darkness with my sword in hand. Chroma would only set off the wards, attract more guards.
He seems surprised by my fury as my sword plunges into his chest. His eyes widen, shock clearly etched on his face as he gasps, looking down at the wound spreading blood across his tunic. With one last shuddering breath, he drops to the floor.
Mira gasps in horror and Callum groans. “So much for not killing anyone. Now they’re definitely going to execute us. Or worse.”
I whirl on Callum, blood still scorching in my veins. “What other choice did I have? You want me to invite him to tea to talk everything over instead?”
Before Callum can step up to me, Mira pushes past me, grabbing the fallen torch from the guard. By the looks of him, he was just a young lad, probably just started his guard duties. I push down the welling guilt in my chest. “We need to find Bobble. Something isn’t right.”
She takes a left toward the Third, and we don’t hesitate to follow her faster and faster through the tunnels, following the pull of Bobble. So badly I want to use my Chroma to reach out to him, feel him. Instead, we rely on the vague intuition through the mate bond.
It's not long until we hear a commotion coming down a larger tunnel, wide enough for ten men to stand abreast. I pull Mira back, quickly dousing our torch to peer around the corner.
When I see seven guards surrounding an orange tabby cat hissing and growling against a stone wall, my mind goes blank with red. I don’t hesitate to charge from the shadows with a roar, drawing their attention away from Bobble. The guards turn, wide-eyed at the sudden intrusion, giving me valuable seconds to close the distance.
“Sunder!” Mira shouts in alarm, her voice echoing off the tunnel walls. But I pay her no heed. Seven guards, one of me. I can take them. As I race towards the group, already reforming into a defensive formation, Bobble shifts out of cat form using his yellow Chroma.
Fuck.
Maybe that trickle of magic won’t be enough to break the wards.
Sword meets sword with a clang that reverberates in the narrow tunnel. I twist and duck under a swing from my left, pivoting to kick the guard behind me. The one on my right takes advantage of my momentary distraction. His blade comes down on my shoulder, slicing through leather armor like butter.
Pain flares, but I grit my teeth, swinging my own sword and connecting with his in a shower of sparks. Bobble charges, taking on two guards at once with a ferocity that belies his usual good-natured temperament. Callum moves into the fray, his lean physique weaving smoothly between the larger, less graceful attackers.