All Chapters of The Ties The Bond Us: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Charlie and I tore down the forest path, branches lashing at our arms and legs, the wind rushing past like even it was in a hurry. I could smell that Conan had gone past here and I could smell those filthy rogues. My chest burned—but not from the run. It was panic. Dread. The kind you can taste in the back of your throat like metal. I know I shouldn't have been surveilling Conan's phone—but when I saw that unknown number had texted Conan and dropped a location map with no context that was written like me, I had to look into it. I had to. Conan followed the map. I just know he did. And I know it's just to see if it was real or not. Unfortunately I couldn't reach him now. "Why's it so bright up ahead?" Charlie asked, squinting as we sprinted toward the glow. And then I saw it too—flickering light just beyond the tree line. We broke through the last of the brush and stopped dead in our tracks. A little cottage. Engulfed in raging flames and the smell of filthy rogues? "Shit," Cha

I sat across from my father in the war room—what the elders liked to call the smaller council chamber when shit hit the fan. Papers covered the table, the soft rustle of shifting parchment the only sound accompanying our silence. I rubbed at my temple, exhausted and frustrated, because no matter how many angles we rechecked, how many files we combed through, nothing stuck. Nothing linked Elder Raff directly to the assassination attempt. And even worse? None of the other elders I was quietly investigating gave me anything either. No sloppiness. No suspicious purchases. Just clean slates and smug faces. "We probably need to just change the focus of the investigation," my father sighed, leaning back in his chair, shoulders sagging. "I guess it means the mole was actually very thorough," I muttered, biting the inside of my cheek. "If I change direction, I need a reason to delay the closure. A real one. The other elders are going to push hard to bury this." "It's just minor tax evasion

"... a daughter brings so much joy and girls have a higher chance of being witches! It's a great honor to have one in the family," I heard someone say to Conan. "And trust me you want one that looks like you as well," another lady said. What were they trying to put in his head. I don't think he was ready for another kid yet, though I'm not opposed to it. "You look more at ease Conan," another lady said. "Yeah, I was wondering when I could breathe again. I think I might need to take a break until the waltz ends," Conan joked. "Oh my, I don't think you'll be able to," one of the ladies finally noticed me. Conan turned and saw me. "Levi?" "Want to dance?" I asked nervously. He got up and followed me to the middle of the room. The music swelled. Conan's hand slipped into mine, slightly clammy from nerves, and I squeezed it mostly for my own reassurance. His other hand rested gently on my shoulder as mine found the small of his back. His body was tense. Too tense. I could feel

The prison was cold, all stone and silence and dripping pipes echoing like slow-counting heartbeats. I walked down the corridor with Charlie trailing behind, neither of us speaking. We didn't need to. The air was heavy with it—this mix of anticipation and fury and desperation—that had been sitting in my chest like a boulder since Levi collapsed. And now? Now it was time to make someone talk. We reached the last row of cells and stopped in front of hers. Elder Miranda. She was still in her nightclothes, clearly snatched mid-preparation for sleep, hair disheveled and eyes dark with lack of rest. But when she saw me, her mouth curled into a smug little smile like this wasn't all collapsing around her. "My, my," she said sweetly, stepping closer to the bars. "You're walking around just fine. Apparently someone ingested the poison for you." She smiled like it was a joke. A private joke she thought only she got to laugh at. "How dare you," I hissed. Her laugh was soft, deranged. "Wi

The clearing in the woods felt colder than usual—like the air itself was holding its breath. A raised wooden stage had been built into the forest grove, nine chairs arranged in a semi-circle above a single podium where the accused would stand. The sunlight filtered through the tall trees like divine judgment, casting sharp streaks across the floor. The whole space looked like something out of a myth—where ancient rulers meted out divine justice. Except this wasn't some long-lost legend. This was very real. And the weight of it sat heavy on my shoulders. I took my seat at the center of the panel, in Levi's place, just for today. His chair beside me was empty, its absence loud despite the buzzing crowd gathered in the clearing. They were packed in tight, eyes wide, murmurs floating through the air like rising steam. This was a historic day. The trial of a disgraced elder. Public. Brutal. Necessary. Alex sat behind me, sulking for different reasons. I'd already had to tell him three