All Chapters of Moon Bound With You: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

POV: SEBASTIANMorning came too quickly. The pale light of dawn filtered through the cabin windows, cutting the shadows into jagged strips across the floor. I lay on the bed longer than I probably should have, listening to the distant wind through the trees, waiting for my body to stop buzzing with residual energy from the night before.Rowan was already up. I could hear him moving silently around the cabin, gathering supplies and stretching in that controlled, deliberate way he had. Every sound he made felt purposeful, measured. My pulse quickened just from listening.I pushed myself up, joints stiff, and caught his eye from across the room. He didn’t look up immediately, just kept moving with that steady efficiency. Then, finally, he glanced at me.“Morning,” he said, voice low. There was no warmth in the word, only… acknowledgment. But it was enough.“Morning,” I muttered back. My throat felt dry, my mouth bitter from lack of sleep. I swung my legs over the bed and forced myself to

POV: ROWANI didn’t like the way the wind carried sound tonight. It whispered along the trees, curling around the cabin like fingers, reaching in places it shouldn’t. Something was out there. Something patient. Something waiting.I stayed on the porch, boots dug into the frost, eyes scanning the darkened forest beyond the small clearing. Ember and Cael had gone to check the perimeter, leaving Sebastian inside, unaware of just how close danger had edged tonight. I wanted to warn him, but part of me also needed him to feel it not fear it, but recognize it. Control came from understanding, and understanding came from experience.The bond between us throbbed faintly, a low pulse beneath my skin, pulling, tethering. I had tried to deny it when I first arrived, wanted to treat him like any other trainee. But he was different. Not just because of what he was, but because of what he did to me: the pull, the resonance, the way instinct and magic responded to him without thought. I couldn’t unt

POV: ROWANI watched him from the doorway, the firelight dancing across his features, softening the sharp edges I normally noticed first. Sebastian was restless, as I’d expected. He couldn’t hide it, not from me, not with the bond humming faintly between us. That pull, that tether, it never stopped, and tonight it pulsed stronger than usual. I’d stationed Ember and Cael elsewhere, trusting them to patrol. The responsibility of this night rested on me, and I could feel the weight. The forest outside wasn’t empty. That much was clear. The shadows moved with intent, testing, probing, waiting for a reaction. And it wasn’t just the entity from the ruins. Something else had awakened the moment Sebastian arrived, drawn to the bond like a moth to a flame.I exhaled, low, steadying myself. He needed awareness. He needed patience. He didn’t need me worrying aloud, but I couldn’t ignore it, not when every instinct screamed that danger was imminent.I stepped closer, careful not to crowd him. He

RowanI stay behind when Sebastian leaves for the rink.Not because I don’t trust him to hold himself together, but because this part that comes after is mine to manage.The cabin feels different without him. Quieter. Too still. Like it’s holding a breath it doesn’t need to. I clean the counter even though it’s already clean. Rinse a mug that doesn’t require rinsing. Keep my hands busy so my thoughts don’t spiral where they might.The Order will already know.They always know.Magic has a way of leaving fingerprints, and last night was loud in ways that don’t fade easily. The Devourer’s interference alone would’ve sent ripples through half their detection wards. Add the broken seals, the ruined runes, and the fact that Sebastian is still breathing It won’t take long.I check my phone. No new messages. That doesn’t mean safety. It just means patience.I step outside instead.Morning in Duskpine is deceptive. Pale sunlight, thin frost on the ground, pine trees standing like they always

POV: RowanI stayed behind after Sebastian left for the rink. Not because I doubted him; he was careful now, disciplined enough to hold himself together—but because this part, the quiet part, was mine to manage. The moments in between, when nothing was happening, when the chaos had paused just enough to breathe, were mine to observe and prepare. The cabin was still and cold. A thin layer of frost had formed on the window panes overnight, catching the pale morning light in streaks that made the room look sterile, too clean. I didn’t care about the mess. The counter had crumbs, a half-drunk mug of coffee, and the faint tang of yesterday’s sweat lingering in the air. I let it be. My attention wasn’t on domestic order, it was on him, and on what would follow.The bond hummed faintly in my chest, a reminder that he was out there, alive, focused, holding himself together. Not demanding, not sharp, just a quiet pulse I could feel when I concentrated. I didn’t reach for it. Not yet. I wouldn’