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Fifty-three
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2026-01-28 02:51:17
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Moon Bound With You Fifty-three
SebastianI don’t sleep right away.Not because I’m wired. Because my thoughts won’t settle into anything shapeless.“Anchor.” The word keeps circling back.Not a weapon. Not the door. Not a mistake. Something built to hold. I lie on my back, one arm thrown over my eyes, listening to the quiet movements of the cabin. Rowan is in the other room. The faint creak of the walls. Wind brushes the roof like fingers. The bond hums faintly, steady as a second pulse.It doesn’t tell me anything.It doesn’t need to. Rowan’s words don’t feel like a revelation. They feel like something being named that was already shaping me.I sit up, swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and stand. The cold floor grounds me. I move quietly through the cabin, stopping in the doorway of the small room Rowan uses. He’s at the desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled, a book open in front of him. He doesn’t look surprised when he senses me there.“You’re not asleep,” he says.“Neither are you.”“No.” I step inside and lea
Moon Bound With You Fifty-two
RowanFrom the outside, it looks like he’s just standing there. He had his hands in his jacket pockets. Breathe steady. Eyes closed against the cold.If I didn’t know what was under his skin now, I might have believed that.But the air around Sebastian isn’t still.It hasn’t been since we stepped off the porch.There’s a pressure to it, not heavy, not violent. Organized. Like invisible lines being drawn and redrawn, settling into new places. The bond hums faintly in my chest, responding to whatever is unfolding in his.I don’t interrupt. I’ve made that mistake before.I stay close enough to intervene if I have to, far enough not to intrude. The trees stand silent around us. The town is quiet in the way that only comes before the weather.Sebastian exhales slowly.The pressure shifts.Not outward.Down. I feel a subtle tightening along the wards I helped anchor when I first arrived in Duskpine—not breaking. Adjusting.That alone tells me more than I want to know.The wards were never d
Moon Bound With You Fifty-one
SebastianRowan doesn’t say anything else after that.Neither do I. We stand by the window for a while, watching the trees as they might blink first. Nothing happens. No movement. No sound that doesn’t belong.That doesn’t make it better.The feeling doesn’t go away when we step back from the glass. It settles instead, low and watchful, like the start of a headache you know is going to get worse later.“I’m hungry,” I say eventually.It’s half an excuse. Halfway to making the world smaller. Rowan nods once. “I’ll make something.”I move into the kitchen, mostly so I don’t keep standing there thinking about what he said. About what he didn’t.Older. Reactive. Choice.Those words don’t leave you alone once they get in. Rowan cooks like everything is measured even when he isn’t measuring. It’s one of the first things I noticed about him back when all he was to me was the guy who kept pushing my limits in the gym. Nothing wasted. Nothing rushed.I lean against the counter, watching him wi
Moon Bound With You Fifty
RowanSebastian walks a half step ahead of me back to the cabin. He always does when he’s thinking.The path is narrow, packed with snow crunching under our boots. The trees on either side are still, heavy with frost. Nothing moves except us. Even the wind seems to be waiting.I let him have the silence. He needs it more than conversation right now. Inside, the cabin is cold. I shrug out of my jacket and hang it by the door, watching him do the same. He moves with the loose precision of someone who’s lived in his body his whole life and only recently realized it might not belong solely to him.“Sit,” I say.Not like an order. Like a suggestion.He does, dropping onto the edge of the couch, forearms resting on his thighs. His focus is inward. I can feel it faintly through the bond, his attention turning back on himself, testing the edges.I move to the shelves along the far wall.Most of what’s there doesn’t look dangerous. Old books. A cracked wooden box. A few jars of dried plants th
Moon Bound With You Forty-nine
SebastianI don’t dream. That’s the first thing I notice when I wake up. No running. No blood. No heat under my skin like something trying to tear its way out. Just dark, quiet sleep and the steady awareness of my own breathing.It unsettles me more than the nightmares ever did. I lie there for a while, staring at the ceiling of the cabin, listening to the low creak of the wood as the wind moves outside. My body feels heavy, not wrong. Sore in familiar places. Thighs. Shoulders. Lower back. The kind of ache I’ve lived with since I was a teenager.Human aches.The bond hums faintly in my chest, distant but present. Rowan is awake. Not in the room. Somewhere nearby. The sensation isn’t distracting anymore. It’s just… information.I sit up slowly, running a hand over my face.Last night doesn’t rush back at me the way the ruins did. No surge of panic. No spike of heat. Just memory. Conversation. The way Rowan’s voice had gone quieter when he told me what the Order was doing beyond Duskpi
Moon Bound With You Forty-eight
POV: SebastianThe rink smells of fresh ice and anticipation. It’s early, just past dawn, and the stands are empty except for the cleaning crew and a few stragglers setting up the boards. I tie my skates slowly, methodically, letting the familiar rhythm calm the edge in my chest. The bond hums faintly in my chest. Rowan is nearby, somewhere beyond the glass, watching as he always does. I can feel him steady, tethered. It’s comforting and distracting all at once.Connor jogs past, smirking. “Early bird catches the puck, huh?” I glance up. “Or avoid getting yelled at by you.” He laughs, tossing a puck toward me. I catch it easily, spin it on my stick, feeling the cool metal and hard rubber grounding me. The familiar weight, the familiar routine. I’d forgotten how much I needed that. Routine. Normalcy, as close as I can get to it.Rowan’s voice cuts through my thoughts, calm but firm. “Stretch first. Don’t rush.”I glance toward the glass, catching his form leaning slightly, mug in hand.
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