Chapter 39 – Stirring Awareness

(Cole’s POV)

I woke with a sharp ache in my chest, I could feel the remnants of last night’s whiskey fog clinging stubbornly to my thoughts. The cabin was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the trees outside, and for a moment, I tried to convince myself that I had been alone in the bed, that nothing had changed. But the bond hummed faintly, restless, insistent, tugging at me in a way it hadn’t before.

Ella.

Like a warning that flickered in my mind, the name clung onto me, so much that I can’t ignore it. She had shifted—subtle, almost imperceptible—but it is enough to get me unsettled. My gut twisted at the change, a mixture of irritation and unease, and for once, I could not decide what to do to the emotions I’m feeling. I had grown used to understanding her emotions through the bond, reading her fears, her joys, her anger, but now… now it pulsed differently. Fragile. Insistent. Guarded.

I pushed myself out of bed, my muscles stiff, and I moved toward the practice yard. The cool morning air stung my skin, but it wasn’t enough to clear my mind. My thoughts stubbornly returned back to her.

Lately she has become quiet. She has become more focused, polished. It felt like a deliberate act. I had tried ignoring it, blaming it on the bond but the subtle shifts were impossible to overlook. The bond hummed against me with something new. Something… growing.

My chest tightened. I couldn’t stop the flicker of guilt that rose unbidden. I had been forced into this union, clinging to rules and tradition, ignoring her heart and hers alone. And now, whatever was happening with her, it was entirely my fault or perhaps it was the result of my negligence, my arrogance and my inability to make the right chose.

I caught a glimpse of her as she emerged from the cabin, carrying her journal and sketchbook. She moved with a grace that betrayed a strength I had yet to fully understand. She walked carefully, measured, like each step mattered not only for her but for someone else.

And suddenly, my mind recoiled. My chest tightened further, sharp and unrelenting. Someone else? The words echoed in my skull. She seems to be… protecting something. Something that wasn’t about herself.

From a distance, I watched her. I tried to read her expression. Her face was calm, almost serene, but her eyes… they held something I could not place. Determination? Fear? or Both? She wasn’t outrightly avoiding me, but there was a measured distance I had never seen before. It unsettled something in me, something I hadn’t felt in years.

I moved closer, stepping carefully across the yard. “Ella,” I called softly, trying to keep my voice casual, though I could feel the tension coiling in my gut.

She glanced up, eyes meeting mine, polite but distant. She smiled faintly, nodding in acknowledgment. “Good morning, Cole,” she said, her voice even, unhurried. “Hope you slept well?”

I frowned, taken aback by the normalcy in her tone. There was no trace of vulnerability, no hesitation in her words, no warmth directed at me beyond what was required. It was really unsettling. I swallowed hard, forcing my jaw to unclench.

“Yes… as well as can be expected to,” I replied, though my words felt hollow even as they left my mouth.

She nodded, tucking her journal under her arm, and began walking past me. I followed her, but maintaining a few steps behind, I was unable to shake the feeling that I was missing something critical. Something immense.

The bond pulsed faintly again, insistent, and I caught a fleeting glimpse of the life growing within her—a spark, tiny and fragile, but it was undeniably present. My stomach clenched, and for a long moment, All I could do was just stare, frozen by the realization that something had irrevocably been changed.

“Ella…” I began, voice tight, trying to keep the tremor from reaching my words. “Is… is something the matter?”

She paused but did not turn to face me. Her hands rested lightly over her journal, and her gaze drifted to the trees beyond the yard. “Nothing’s wrong, everything is just fine,” she said softly. But there was a subtle firmness in her tone, a shield I could feel through the bond. She was guarding herself. Guarding… something else.

The thought hit me like a physical blow, sharp and immediate. She’s definitely hiding something. My pulse quickened. My chest ached. My mind whirled with questions, guilt, and an unfamiliar sense of fear.

Fear—for her. Fear for whatever she was carrying, for whatever life she was trying to protect. I know I had no right to interfere, yet I still felt drawn, compelled to uncover the truth.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Ella, if there’s something—anything—you need to tell me… I need to know. I—”

She shook her head lightly, cutting me off. “Now, isn’t the time, Cole,” she said, her voice quiet but unyielding. “Whenever I’m ready I will let you know. Until then… please respect my space.”

Than any blow she could dish out, those words struck me harder. I opened my mouth to argue with her, to insist, to demand some sort of explanation, but no words came. Instead, I felt the bond flare faintly—an undercurrent of life, something powerful and fragile, and suddenly I knew.

Something within her had changed. Something fundamental. And I had been blind, caught in my own guilt, my own obsession with Sasha, in my own chaos.

I watched her walk away, with each step she took, the distance increase. My chest felt heavy, burdened with the awareness that the girl I had once tried to dominate, to control, now carried something I had no claim over—yet that bond, that life, tugged at me in ways I could not deny.

I sank onto a nearby log, fists clenched, and let the weight of my ignorance and negligence press down. The bond throbbed faintly, whispering secrets I could almost understand.

And with that, unease settled deep in my bones.

I had been forced into this union, I had ignored her feelings, allowed my desires to cloud judgment, and now—now she carried something I had no right to yet was intrinsically tied to. My mind swirled with conflicting emotions: guilt, fear, fascination, and an undeniable pull of responsibility.

I realized, in that quiet forest, that my life had been irrevocably changed. Whatever was growing within Ella was also a part of me, whether I was ready to accept it or not. And as I sat there, silent and restless, the whispering of the bond promised more revelations to come, more challenges, and more consequences than I could comprehend.

The awareness settled over me like a shadow I could not shake. And for the first time in years, I felt truly, painfully aware of my own failings and of the weight of the life that depended, unknowingly, on the very woman I had been forced into a union she herself did not choose.