Chapter 25 CHAPTER 25
Sebastian woke with sunlight streaming across his face, the warmth cutting through the faint haze of sleep. For the first time in weeks, his body felt light, unburdened, as though the invisible chains that had been tightening around his chest had suddenly fallen away. He stretched, his muscles flexing with a satisfying pull, a smile tugging at his lips.
Is it possible? he wondered. Is the bond finally gone?
There was no tug in his chest, no lingering echo of pain, no whisper of Kael’s voice warning him about agony that wasn’t his - just silence, pure, blessed silence. His body felt strangely whole, as though something that had been sapping him for weeks had finally loosened its grip. The dull ache that used to weigh on his muscles was gone, replaced by a lightness he hadn’t known in a long time. Every breath came easier, every movement felt deliberate, steady. For once, his strength felt like it belonged entirely to him.
He sat up, ran a hand through his hair, and grinned to himself. Maybe, after all this time, he was finally free.
Downstairs, the smell of roasted oats and fresh coffee filled the kitchen. His mother stood at the stove humming softly, and Richard was reading a report, his expression unusually calm for a morning. Both looked up as Sebastian jogged in wearing his training gear.
“You’re up early,” Richard said, raising a brow.
“Early and feeling great,” Sebastian replied, grabbing a protein shake from the counter. He gulped down half of it, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and smiled. “Think I’ll go for a run before training.”
His parents exchanged a quick glance. “You haven’t been this energetic since…”
“Since before the Moon Festival,” Richard finished quietly, his tone carrying hope he didn’t voice aloud. “Maybe the bond isn’t tormenting him anymore.”
Sebastian chuckled, half amused, half defensive. “Maybe I’m just having a good day.”
He left before they could question further.
Outside, morning dew glistened on the grass. The woods were alive - birds chirping, wind whispering through the trees. His feet hit the path with familiar rhythm, his lungs filling with crisp air. It felt good to move, to breathe without the heaviness that had haunted him for weeks. For once, Kael was quiet inside him, content. It was freedom, sweet and simple.
He pushed harder, deeper into the forest until the path curved near the lake. That’s when he saw her.
Sara.
She stood ahead of him, framed by the morning light - auburn hair cascading over her shoulders, lips curved in that mischievous smile he knew too well. Her arms were open slightly, as though waiting for him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, slowing to a halt.
“I came to see you,” she said softly, stepping closer.
“How did you even know I’d be running this way?”
Sara smirked. “Just had a feeling you’d be running through this path today.”
Her voice was playful, lilting. Then, with a teasing tilt of her head, she added, “Now, are you just going to stand there, or will you come give me a kiss?”
Sebastian’s lips twitched in reluctant amusement. “You know I was banned from seeing you.”
“Which is why I didn’t come to your house,” she murmured, closing the distance. “But no one said I couldn’t find you here.”
Her words brushed against his resolve like velvet. He hesitated only a second before her nearness pulled him in. He leaned forward and kissed her - softly at first, then deeper, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the forest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.
“Sebastian,” she whispered between kisses, “stop thinking so much.”
He smiled against her lips, his voice low. “I was warned about this. About what it does to the bond.”
“To hell with the bond,” Sara breathed. “This is what’s real.”
Her lips met his again, hungry, insistent. She took his hand and tugged him gently toward the thicket. The ground there was soft with moss and wildflowers, sunlight scattering through the leaves above like shards of gold. Birds scattered from nearby branches, their wings catching the light as they rose.
When her back brushed the forest floor, he hovered over her, their breaths shallow, eyes locked. His pulse thundered. Her fingers traced the lines of his chest, slid over his skin, and all thought fled. Time seemed to slow - her scent, her warmth, the sound of her heartbeat under his palm - it consumed him.
The forest fell into silence, broken only by their breath and the rustle of leaves. Their movements found rhythm, unspoken and intense, each moment drawing him deeper until all he could feel was her. The world beyond vanished. Only Sara - soft skin, whispered laughter, the arch of her neck as sunlight kissed her face.
And far away, in a small city kitchen, Cindy Hale cried out.
One moment she was turning eggs on the pan, teasing Isabel about school, and the next, pain ripped through her. The spatula clattered to the floor as her knees buckled. She screamed, clutching her chest. The frying pan toppled, scalding her arm, and she fell to the tiles, her body burning from the inside out.
“Cindy!” Isabel shouted, rushing to her side. The girl froze for a second, Cindy’s skin glowed faintly, marks like red-hot brands forming across her arms and collarbone, as if invisible flames were licking her alive.
Lisa’s voice growled faintly, her presence fighting to take over. Cindy’s eyes flickered gold, her face shifting - half hers, half Lisa’s. Isabel stumbled back, terrified but desperate to help.
Meanwhile, deep in the forest, sunlight spilled through the leaves in thin golden beams.
Sebastian lay back on the moss, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. The strength he’d felt that morning had bled from him, replaced by a strange, heavy calm. Sara leaned over him, her fingers lazily tracing circles on his arm.
“You look like you’ve run a marathon,” she teased.
He chuckled, his voice hoarse. “There goes my run. I feel drained. I can’t run anymore.” His smile deepened faintly. “I swear, someday you’ll kill me with your passion.”
Her lips curved in a knowing smile. “Someday.”
He laughed softly, rolling onto his side. “We should go before someone finds us.”
“You worry too much,” she murmured, brushing her hand along his jaw.
“Maybe,” he said, pulling his shirt back on. “But I’ve got enough people watching me already.”
He turned toward the path. The morning light shimmered through the trees, wrapping them in soft gold. Behind him, Sara sat still, her smile faint but secretive like a shadow that knew exactly what it had done.
And miles away, Cindy Hale stood before the stove, her hand trembling as the pain left her body, pretending the heat she felt was only from the burner.