Chapter 138
Ellie POV
Dominic arrives ten minutes later.
I know it’s him before I see him.
Partly because he’d rushing. Footsteps a mess, a few yelps as a rush of air blast from the hall. Him transforming back into a
human.
He stops a mess at the door frame, heaving. His hair beheaded, a loose T and sweats.
His eyes dart around the room of wide eyes.
“Um,” He takes a quick breath, “You…Called? Is Ellie-”
His sights lock on me.
Something shifts at the edge of my awareness, like the room tightening, like my body recognizing something my mind hasn’t
caught up to yet.
“What’s going on?” he asks, voice low, controlled, but there’s a crack under it that makes my chest ache.
The chief healer gestures him forward. “Stand there. For now.”
Dominic’s brow furrows, but he does as he’s told, stopping on the far side of the bed. Too far.
The pain is still there. Still gnawing, still pulsing behind my eyes and down my spine like something is hollowing me out from the inside. I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood, refusing to make a sound.
Dominic’s jaw tightens. “She’s hurting. Do something.
“Yes,” the healer says calmly. “We are. Just stay where you are.”
Then-without being told-Dominic takes a step closer. “Can you just explain what’s going on?”
The relief is immediate.
It’s subtle at first, like someone lowering the volume on a noise. My shoulders loosen. My breath evens out. The pressure behind my eyes dulls from unbearable to manageable.
I suck in a sharp breath.
Everyone sees it.
The healer’s eyes narrow, not in surprise, but in confirmation.
“Closer,” he says.
Dominic hesitates, glancing at me like he’s asking permission.
I don’t trust my voice, so I nod.
He moves to my bedside.
The pain fades another degree, like my body is exhaling for the first time in days. I feel lighter. Clearer.
It’s…just like before.
“Take her hand,” the healer instructs.
Dominic slowly does, unsure, as his fingers curl around mine.
+30 Bonus
The world goes quiet.
Not figuratively. Literally.
The pain disappears so fast it leaves me dizzy. My head clears. My chest loosens. I gasp, startled by the sudden absence of suffering, like stepping out of freezing water into warmth.
“Oh,” I breathe. My eyes locking to his. “It…was you…? But…?”
The room stops.
My mother makes a broken sound beside me. One of the healers swears under their breath. My stepfather goes rigid, face pale.
Dominic doesn’t move.
He’s staring at our joined hands like they’re something dangerous.
The chief healer straightens, grave now.
“Ah, yes, just as I thought. Been awhile since I’ve seen it. A rejected fated mate bond,” he says evenly, “when rejected for too long, it begins to turn inward. The body deteriorates. Pain. Weakness. Organ strain.”
My stomach drops.
“Only three things stabilize it,” he continues. “Mate comfort. Proximity. Or marking and accepting the bond.”
I flush so hard I’m pretty sure my ancestors feel it. “You’re…joking.” I try but the healer just smirks.
I risk a glance down at our hands like maybe they’ve betrayed me behind my back. Dominic’s fingers tighten just a fraction.
I follow his stare.
He looks wrecked. Not like upset, just quietly… stunned, like someone yanked the floor out from under him.
I swallow, my throat thick, heart thudding like it’s trying to sprint in a direction my body has already vetoed.
So this is it.
Rejecting Dominic didn’t free me.
It just postponed the problem long enough for it to come back with medical and magical terminology and an audience.
And apparently my body has already signed the agreement, even if my heart is still packing a bag and looking for the nearest
exit.
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