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Chapter Eighty Three

ผู้เขียน: Jane dee
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2026-01-14 08:32:11

Ripples of Refusal

Saxa

The morning comes slow, softer than usual. The snow has settled overnight, leaving pale hush over the paths, the square, the river’s edge. Even the air seems to pause when I step outside.

The bond hums gently, steady beneath my ribs, as if measuring the world without asking for my attention. I walk with my coat wrapped tight, boots crunching in rhythm with thoughts I don’t quite articulate.

People notice me, not overtly–no one stares of whispers in the open–but I feel th
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  • The Binding   Chapter Eighty Three

    Ripples of RefusalSaxaThe morning comes slow, softer than usual. The snow has settled overnight, leaving pale hush over the paths, the square, the river’s edge. Even the air seems to pause when I step outside.The bond hums gently, steady beneath my ribs, as if measuring the world without asking for my attention. I walk with my coat wrapped tight, boots crunching in rhythm with thoughts I don’t quite articulate.People notice me, not overtly–no one stares of whispers in the open–but I feel the subtly shift in distance, the mirco-adjustments of bodies, the small halts in movement that signal attention carefully placed.Not fear. Not respect exactly. Just… recognition that something about me now requires calculation.I keep my shoulders squared, my eyes forward, and let them move around me, let the world bend slightly to its own expectation.The first test comes sooner than I expect.A boy appears at the edge of the square, no older than ten, clutching a small wooden toy. His boots sk

  • The Binding   Chapter Eighty Two

    Assigned MeaningSaxaThe attention doesn’t feel sharp. That’s the problem.If it were sharp–if it cut or burned or pressed too hard–I could brace it. Name it. Push back. But this is softer than that, a weight that settles instead of strikes. Like snow piling up quietly on a roof you trust not to collapse.I notice it first thing in the morning.Not in the bond–it’s calm, steady, exactly as it’s been since yesterday–but in the way the house feels slower to wake. Gran is already up, of course. She always is, and she practically lives here now, even though her house is right next door. The kettle sings on the stove, the scent of coffee threading through the room.Normal.Too normal.I pull on my boots and coat, stepping outside to get firewood, and it’s only then that I realize I’m not alone the way I usually am this early.There are people awake.Not gathered, not watching openly.Just… present.A figure pauses at the edge of the path when I step out. Someone else turns a corner a lit

  • The Binding   Chapter Eighty One

    The Space Between StepsSaxaThe first thing I notice is that people are giving me room.Not obvious room, not the kind that looks like fear or respect. Just a half-step wider when I pass. A pause before someone crossed my path. A subtle recalculation that happens without thought, like bodies moving around a cold patch of air.It shouldn’t bother me.It does. Gran walks beside me through the square, her shoes tapping a steady rhythm against the stone. She looks exactly the same as she always does–wrapped in her coat, hair tucked beneath her scarf, eyes sharp and missing nothing. If anyone’s watching her differently, she doesn’t care.If they’re watching me, she notices.“Don’t slouch,” she murmurs without looking at me.“I’m not.”“You are. You do it when you’re bracing.I straighten automatically, then scowl when I realize she’s right. The square is busy for this time of day, a few vendors have set up tables despite the cold weather. Children dart between adults, boots sliding on pa

  • The Binding   Chapter Eighty

    Without BarriersSaxaIt starts small.Not dramatic, not some glowing line between us or thunder rumbling in approval.Just.. awareness.I’m standing at the sink rinsing my hands, thinking about absolutely nothing important, when the sensation slips in under my skin like a soft tide.Warmth.Not mine.Him.Not images. Not words. Just the unmistakable weight of Eirik’s presence, like he’s pressed a palm to the center of my chest from the inside.I straighten slowly.Only He’s not here. He’s halfway across the territory. I know that as clearly as I know my own name.And yet–My mind leans in his direction the way a compass needle leans north.I blink.“Okay,” I whisper to the empty kitchen. “that’s … new.”The feeling doesn’t overwhelm. It doesn’t crowd. It hums quietly beneath everything else.Comfort.Anchor.A thread that has always existed but now refuses to pretend it doesn’t.Somewhere in the distance, he pauses.I don’t see it. I feel it.Like a held breath.then , faint as a whi

  • The Binding   Chapter Seventy Nine

    Where We ChooseSaxaThe night settles differently when the world has already ended once in your chest.Eirik doesn’t say we should go to bed. He just offers his hand.A simple thing.I take it.The bedroom smells like pine and cold air, the window cracked the smallest amount like he always keeps it, the sheets cool when I slide beneath them. My bones still feel strange–hollowed, wrung out–like I left pieces of myself scattered across other people’s floor.He sits on the edge of the bed first, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck like he’s bracing for something heavier than sleep.“I can take the chair,” he says softly. “If you want space, that is?”The face that means it almost undoes me.I shake my head instantly.“No, stay.”He exhales like that permission matters more than it should. He lies beside me, careful, leaving a sliver of space between our bodies–not because he doesn’t want to touch me, but because he refuses to assume he can.I stare at the ceiling.The world hums.

  • The Binding   Chapter Seventy Eight

    The Weight of Being SeenSaxaMorning does not arrive, it seeps.Thin light creeping in through the curtains like it’s apologizing for intruding, washing the room in a grey that looks tired before the day even begins. The house smells of tea, woodsmoke, and the faint echo of last night’s fear. Everything is quiet enough that I can hear the snow shifting off the roof in slow, tired sighs.My eyes open without really waking up.For a moment, I don’t know where I am.Not the cellar, not the mountain, not Jana’s kitchen floor.The couch.Home.My brain catches up in slow pieces—Eirik’s hands steadying me, the floor against my knees, the shaking that felt like it was never going to stop. Panic doesn’t feel like drowning from the outside. It feels like your lungs forget what they’re built for, like your body is suddenly convinced being alive is the worst possible mistake.Now everything feel…Empty.Like something inside me poured out and didn’t ask if it was allowed to leave.Every muscle

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