Outside the healer’s hall, the early morning air was crisp and cool, the faint sounds of the village just starting to stir.

  Imogen stood a few paces away from the door, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her long black hair stirring faintly in the breeze. She kept glancing anxiously back at the closed door

  Axel stood a few feet away, hands braced on his hips, his head bowed, eyes dark and stormy. His green-scaled arms flexed faintly, his fists clenching and unclenching like he couldn’t figure out what to do with his own restless strength.

  Neither of them spoke for a long, heavy moment.

  Finally, Imogen let out a soft, shaky breath, glancing cautiously toward him. “Axel…” she murmured softly, her voice tentative. “I… I didn’t mean to upset her. I didn’t think she’d…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

  Axel let out a sharp, rough exhale, raking a hand back through his tousled hair. “It’s not your fault, Imogen,” he muttered lowly, his voice raw, tight. “She’s just… Mal.”

  Imogen frowned faintly, stepping a little closer, her heart aching as she watched the usually playful, unshakable Axel stand there looking so lost. “You care about her,” she said quietly. “More than you realized.”

  Axel let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he murmured hoarsely.

  “Yesterday… When your aura woke up, I felt everything: power, magic, strength I didn’t even know I still had. But then…” He swallowed hard, his fists tightening.

  “Then I felt her. I can feel her. Every time she’s scared, every time she hurts, every time she panics it slams through me like a punch to the chest, and I-” He broke off sharply, exhaling hard.

  “I don’t know what to do with it, Imogen. I don’t know how to do this.”

  Imogen’s heart clenched, her eyes softening. “She just needs time,” she said gently. “She’s been through so much, Axel. You both have.”

  Axel’s jaw worked faintly, his eyes flicking briefly toward the sky, his shoulders tense. “She doesn’t feel it back,” he whispered roughly. “I’m standing here tied to her by something I can’t control and she doesn’t even feel it.”

  Imogen stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “Maybe not yet,” she murmured. “But Malachite… she’s not the type to back down forever.” A faint, bittersweet smile touched her lips. “She’s stubborn. She’s fierce. And she’s stronger than she knows.”

  Axel let out a shaky breath, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. “I just… I need her to be okay,” he murmured quietly, his voice thick with raw emotion. “I don’t care what the bond means. I just need her to be okay.”

  Imogen nodded slowly, her throat tightening as she looked up at him.

  “She will be,” she said softly. “She made it through the worst of it. And if she’s angry…” A faint breath escaped her lips. “Then she’s still fighting.”

  Axel’s mouth twitched faintly, not a smile, not even close, just the ghost of a breath that didn’t quite break into words.

  But then he turned away slightly, his eyes drifting to the horizon, the early sun casting light across the rooftops of the village. His voice dropped lower, almost lost to the wind.

  “I’ve been in battles that should’ve killed me,” he said. “I’ve taken blades to the gut and arrows to the wing. But this? Sitting here... not knowing if she’ll want me when she’s whole again?” He swallowed hard. “It’s the first time I’ve ever felt truly powerless.”

  Imogen looked down, her fingers twisting in the hem of her tunic.

  “She doesn’t hate you,” she said gently, her voice firm but kind. “She was just… caught off guard. You have to understand, Axel she didn’t even know until I said the words. She’s barely alive, hurting, confused… and then I dropped that on her.” She winced, the guilt flickering through her eyes. “She hasn’t had the time or space to even begin to process what it means.”

  Axel glanced toward her, the pain still raw behind his emerald gaze.“She still doesn’t feel the bond,” he murmured.

  Imogen nodded slowly, her voice quieter now. “I know. And… she’s scared of that, too. She’s not rejecting you, Axel. She’s scared there’s something wrong with her because she doesn’t feel it. I saw it in her eyes the way her smile fell when she thought she was broken.”

  Axel’s chest rose and fell slowly, his jaw clenching.

  “She’s not broken.”

  “No,” Imogen agreed softly. “She’s not. But if there is one thing I’ve learned about Mal… she carries everything behind a wall of strength. If she can’t feel something she thinks she should, she’ll turn that blame inward and pretend like she doesn’t care.”

  Axel ran a hand through his hair again, his throat working hard.

  “She doesn’t hate you,” Imogen said again, more firmly this time. “She just doesn’t know how to handle any of this yet. Not the magic or the pain, and especially not you.”

  He didn’t answer right away.

  But after a long moment, he gave a slow nod not in agreement but in understanding. In quiet determination.

  “I’ll wait,” he said, voice low. “As long as it takes.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Imogen’s eyes met Axel's, her heart tightening with quiet sympathy. She stepped a little closer, laying her hand gently on his arm.

  “And I’ll do my part,” she said with quiet resolve. “I’ll go to the elders. I’ll search through the old texts and the scrolls in the library. Maybe there’s something written about bonds like yours. Ones that take time… or awaken differently.”

  Axel looked at her then truly looked the weight in his eyes shifting just slightly, the faintest flicker of hope edging in through all the fear.

  “You’d do that?” he asked quietly.Imogen gave a soft, steady nod.

  “Of course. She’s my friend. And you… you’re family, Axel.”

  She paused, her voice calm as she added, almost like a promise, “And someday… she’ll be my sister-in-law.”

  Axel froze, his breath catching. He didn’t speak but the emotion that surged through him flickered across his face.

  Something in his jaw worked as he looked away again, blinking quickly against the sting behind his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice raw.

  Imogen didn’t say anything else. She simply stood with him in the early morning stillness, shoulder to shoulder in the quiet before the storm, both of them holding on to the hope that time, love, and stubborn hearts would somehow be enough.

  The faint crunch of boots against stone broke the silence.

  Darius strode toward them from the path leading out of the main hall, his dark cloak rippling faintly behind him in the morning breeze. He looked like a storm walking, tall, sharp, and cut from shadows and steel but his eyes were already scanning, already reading the ache in the air.

  His gaze swept over Axel then Imogen and froze.

  Axel’s back was still rigid, his fists clenched at his sides, shoulders hunched like he was carrying the weight of a hundred battles. But Imogen gods, Imogen looked wrecked. Her eyes were wide and watery, her lips trembling slightly, arms wrapped around herself like she was barely holding it together.

  “What happened?” Darius asked, voice low, controlled but there was a shift in it. A note of something dangerous beneath the calm.

  Imogen didn’t answer right away. Instead, she moved.

  She stepped forward and without hesitation wrapped her arms around him, burying her face briefly against his chest.

  Darius froze for just a breath, caught off guard. Then his arms came up instinctively, folding around her like a fortress. His chin dipped toward her hair, the warmth of her pressed close grounding them both for a brief, fragile moment.

  He didn’t ask again. He didn’t need to.

  Imogen’s voice was soft and muffled against him. “I told her,” she whispered. “About the bond.”

  He exhaled slowly, his body still against hers then gently eased back enough to look down at her. His hands stayed on her arms, steady but careful.

  There was no anger in his expression.

  But there was weight. “I know you meant well,” he said softly. “And I don’t doubt your heart, Imogen. Not for a second.”

  Her eyes were wide, searching his face.

  “But it wasn’t your place,” he added gently, his voice low but firm. “That truth… should’ve come from him.”

  He didn’t need to gesture. They both knew who he meant.

  Imogen’s throat worked, and she looked down, guilt flooding her eyes.

  “I just…” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t think I saw them, and I felt it, and-”

  “I know,” Darius interrupted gently. “You wanted to help. And maybe it would’ve come out eventually. But Malachite was already hanging on by a thread.” His voice softened even more. “Next time… let the bond speak for itself.”

  A quiet beat passed between them.

  Then he gave her arm the faintest squeeze a silent reassurance. He wasn’t angry. He just needed her to understand.

  Imogen nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Darius didn’t say anything more, just gave a slight nod before turning to Axel.

  “Talk to me.”Axel’s voice was hoarse, nearly raw. “She doesn’t feel it. The bond. Nothing.”

  Darius didn’t flinch. But the faintest shift in his jaw betrayed the storm building beneath. Imogen added softly, “She thinks something’s wrong with her.”

  Darius’s gaze flicked to the closed healer’s door. Then, slowly, his hand reached out and gripped Axel’s shoulder firm. “We’ll carry her through it,” he said simply. “However long it takes.”

  Imogen exhaled shakily, still close at his side. Axel didn’t speak, but his silence held something new now, a thread of hope buried beneath the pain.

  Darius looked toward the door again, his cloak catching on the wind.

  “I’ll speak with her,” he said. “Not as your king. Just… as someone who sees her. For who she truly is.”

  And without waiting for a response, he started toward the healer’s hall steady, silent, and burning with purpose.

  And Axel moved.

  Fast.

  One strong, green-scaled arm shot out and caught Darius across the chest, stopping him cold.

  “Don’t,” Axel said too quickly, too desperately.

  Darius halted, startled not by the motion, but by the raw fear in Axel’s eyes.

  Not the kind forged in battle. Not the kind sharpened by war.

  The kind that came from love.

  “I… I know you’re trying to help,” Axel said, his voice hoarse, barely holding steady. “But what if you say the wrong thing? What if she shuts down more? What if… what if she thinks we’re all just pushing her?”

  His hand dropped from Darius’s chest like it burned him, but he didn’t step back.

  “She’s already slipping,” Axel breathed. “And if she falls any further…” His throat tightened. “I’m scared, Darius. I’ve fought beasts the size of mountains. I’ve walked through fire, flown through storms. But this?” He shook his head, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how to fight for her if she won’t let me close.”

  Darius was silent for a beat, then gently placed his hand back on Axel’s shoulder this time with something steadier beneath it. Not just support… but understanding.

  “I know what the bond can do,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen it up close in my mother’s eyes, and in the aftermath when she lost it. It’s not just magic. It’s not just instinct. It’s complicated.” He met Axel’s gaze, steady and sure. “Sometimes it wakes like a flame. Sometimes it smolders first. Sometimes it takes time especially when pain’s in the way.”

  Axel’s breath hitched, his expression tightening.

  “I’m not going in to fix her,” Darius added. “I’m going in to listen. To understand. And maybe, if I can, to help her make sense of what’s happening, so you can reach her.”

  Imogen’s voice broke the silence softly.

  “She doesn’t need orders,” she said gently. “She needs someone who sees her. Without expecting anything in return.”

  Axel didn’t speak right away.

  But after a long moment, he gave the smallest nod.

  “If she gets worse,” he rasped, “you come back out. Don’t… don’t make her carry more.”

  Darius dipped his head in agreement.“I swear it.”

  And then he stepped past them and toward the healer’s hall door, the weight of history and instinct behind every measured step.