MATED TO MY BROTHER'S ENEMY
Marcus piped up, “What kind of legends?”
Aldwin turned, face grim. “Warriors who fought as one, souls meshed so tight they could finish each other’s sword swings. Lovers who could send strength straight across a battlefield, keep each other alive by sheer will. But also,” his eyes narrowed, “stories of couples who vanished into each other. Couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Lost themselves.”
Not exactly a pep talk. Lyra edged closer to Marcus, needing the anchor. As soon as she got near, the urge to mirror him faded, like the bond just wanted proximity, not puppetry.