The Ties That Bind Us

Tristan

The moonlight crawls across the floorboards in thin, pale lines. I am struggling to stay asleep, something heavy weighs in my chest, but I'm not quite sure what. The air in the house has been suffocating for days now, thick with something unspoken. As if everyone is holding their breath and waiting for the moment, it finally breaks.

I don’t like waiting.

Trinity stirs beside me, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. My eyes flick to her automatically. The curve of her belly is real. Solid. Proof that the future is coming whether we’re ready or not. My chest tightens, not in fear, but in something close to awe. Hope and protective instinct.

It’s a girl. I have seen it myself.

The knowledge sits heavy in my mind, looping over and over. Rare. Powerful. Dangerous, depending on who finds out. Depending on how the world decides to treat her... depending on if she survives. I think of the way my brother has been looking at the horizon lately, like he’s bracing for impact, and a cold thought slithers through me.

What if the danger isn’t coming? What if it’s already here? But wouldn't I sense that before Caz?

Careful not to wake Trinity, I ease myself upright and rub both hands over my face, dragging a tired breath with them. Sleep hasn’t done much for me lately. Even when my body rests, my mind doesn’t. It’s always listening. Always waiting. But for what, I don't know.

Trinity murmurs softly, half-asleep, and her hand slides over my arm, fingers curling there like she knows I’m drifting too far away. I pause for a moment, letting the contact ground me, then gently extract myself from the bed.

The hall floor boards creak softly as I move toward the kitchen. I pause in front of Caz's bedroom door before going downstairs. I listen for any indication he is struggling as much as I am to catch some z's, but only silence answers back. The house is quiet. Too quiet. Even in the hours before dawn, there’s usually something. Footsteps. Voices. The low hum of life moving around us. Today, it feels abandoned, like everyone else has sensed the tension and slipped away from it.

I sit at the table and pour myself a cup of coffee. The scent is sharp and comforting. I don’t drink it. I just hold the mug in both hands, letting the warmth seep into my palms because it makes me feel like I’m doing something. Like I have control.

By the time Trinity enters the kitchen, yawning and tugging one of my shirts around herself, I’m already on my third cup. She wraps her arms around my waist from behind and presses her forehead to my back. I breathe her in. She steadies the restless energy buzzing under my skin.

“How’s the baby?” I ask quietly.

She smirks. “Active. Like her father.”

I huff out a laugh. “That’s not fair. I’m calm.”

She leans back just enough to raise an eyebrow at me. “Calm? That’s not the word I’d use. I mean... you are up at 4 AM drinking coffee. The proof is in the pudding, babe," she teases.

I turn, about to pull her closer and kiss her, when the link flares in my mind... sharp, sudden, and wrong.

Caz.

The sensation hits like ice water down my spine. Not words. Not images. Just raw urgency. Alarm. A pull that makes my stomach knot instantly. I don’t like that he’s thinking of me like this. I don’t like the way it feels like an apology. Like a red flag snapping violently in the wind over a peaceful meadow. My gaze snaps toward the door, toward the forest beyond the house, as if I might already see something waiting there.

“Something’s wrong,” I say.

Trinity’s expression changes immediately, concern etching itself into her features. “What do you mean?”

I don’t answer right away. If I say it out loud, it becomes real. Unavoidable. But the truth is already there, curling through my chest like smoke.

“I can feel it,” I finally say. "I don't know what's wrong, just that something is."

She steps closer. “Here?”

I stare down at my hands, flexing my fingers. “No. It's Caz. He needs me. I need to go to him. He's somewhere in the woods.”

Her lips press together. She doesn’t argue. She never does when it comes to him. Instead, she reaches for my arm, her grip light but steady.

“Just be careful,” she says, so quietly I almost miss it.

I nod, brushing my thumb over her knuckles once before pulling away.

Then I’m out the door.

The forest hits me like a wall, cool air filling my lungs, damp earth soft beneath my boots. I don’t shift. I don’t sprint. I move fast enough to cover ground without advertising my presence. The woods are awake, alive with subtle motion and sound, and I can feel Luminary mapping threats and distances in a way only a wolf can.

"What if you're walking into something?" He says, uncertainty heavy in his tone.

"Then, I walk into it," I answer. "He's my brother."

I reach the edge of the pack lands, where the trees thin and the forest opens into unfamiliar territory. I slow, my instincts screaming. That’s when I feel it. Something is watching. The link flickers again, stronger this time. It’s a call... or a warning.

“Caz,” I send back immediately.

Nothing.

My heart kicks into a frantic rhythm. Fuck stealth. I break into a run. The clearing finally appears, the trees parting like they’ve been pushed aside. And there he is. Standing dead center, shoulders rigid, with his eyes locked on the tree line toward home like he’s daring something to step out.

“Caz,” I call.

Relief flashes across his face... brief, unguarded. Then it’s gone, replaced by something tight and closed off. Guilt, maybe. Or dread.

“Tristan,” he says.

“What’s wrong?” I demand, moving closer.

He opens his mouth and then closes it. His jaw tightens. “Nothing.”

It’s a lie. I can feel it in the way his eyes keep darting to the shadows... in the tension coiled through his body like a spring pulled too tight.

“Tell me.”

He swallows. He doesn't say anything, not with words, but I see a lot of emotions in his gaze.

I stop cold. “What is it, Caz?”

His gaze snaps away from mine. “I said it's nothing," he growls.

His tone hits like a blade between my ribs. He never talks to me like that. He must really want to keep his secrets. That makes me angry because I thought we didn't do that.

"Really, Caz? That's how you're going to talk to me, your fucking twin? What did I do to deserve this shit from you? Why all the attitude? And how naive do you think I am? As if I don't know you. As if I can't feel your emotions... which are telling me a different story than the one you are trying to spin me right now," I growl back, my voice rougher than I intend.

The forest hums around us, low and restless. Leaves shift without wind. Magic curls in the air, thick and wrong. Luminary growls, his energy surging forward protectively, pressing against my chest until my skin prickles. "There's magic here. Bad magic," he says.

“This isn’t safe,” I warn.

Caz’s eyes harden. “Don’t.”

I blink. He’s staring at me like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

I step closer. “Tell me everything. Please, Caz. We've never kept things from each other... why start now?”

He hesitates.

“Fucking tell me, Cassius!” I shout, the sound ripping through the clearing.

And despite the fear twisting in his expression, he finally does.