The Bond

by B. C. Burgess

  Quin had been out of the room for about five seconds, and Layla could feel his absence – an unsettling sensation that started small but got stronger every second he was gone. She crawled out of bed and walked across the room, gauging whether or not the amount of distance between them made a difference. Her heart lightened as she drew closer to the parlor, and by the time she turned and pressed her back against the wall, her anxiety had nearly disappeared. Suddenly and without conscious reasoning, she understood why – he stood on the other side of the wall, testing their new bond the same way.

  He quietly laughed, and she smiled as she rested her head against the soft wallpaper. “I already miss you, Quin.”

  “Me, too, love, but you know what this means, right?”

  “What?”

  “We’ll always be able to find each other, even when there are obstacles in the way.”

  “How about we just skip the losing each other part, huh?”

  He was silent for a moment. Then she felt a spike in his energy, in the soothing warmth she experienced when he was nearby and loving her. “That’s the sweetest deal I’ve ever been offered, Layla. I’d die to keep you within reach.”

  She turned and pressed her palms to the wall, knowing in her gut he was doing the same. “Then that’s the deal.” An emotional lump had captured her throat, but she forced it down, replacing it with the humor, peace and pleasure he brought into her life. “Now go get my coffee and come finish what you started.”

  Chapter Seven

  Quin bypassed breakfast on the balcony, serving it on the kitchenette’s bar instead, and Layla didn’t mind losing the ocean view, because she had a better one sitting beside her. He’d thrown on a pair of shorts after their steamy shower, but his chest was bare and mere inches from her roaming hands. She wore a robe, but only because she didn’t want crumbs in her lap.

  She took a bite of apple and laid her head on his shoulder as she chewed, but when his hand slid inside the front of her robe, her chewing stopped. “You’re going to make me choke.”

  “If I do, I’ll save you then start pureeing your food.”

  “Eww…”

  “Then don’t choke,” he laughed, keeping his hand in place.

  Obviously he had no plans to remove it, so Layla concentrated on chewing and swallowing, a task that had come naturally for nearly two decades.

  “Does it bother you?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened as her head jumped from his shoulder. “Are you reading my mind?”

  He laughed and pulled his hand from her robe, moving it to her curls instead. “No, but I see your aura more clearly than I see others, and when I’m close to you, I can sense your emotions.”

  “So what did you sense?”

  He intently studied her for a moment, like he was trying to decide what he wanted to say, and when he finally got around to saying it, he pulled her close for the delivery. “I’ll tell you, but I want you to do something for me.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, and what a silly request it was. She’d do anything for him.

  “I want you to work on being more open and vocal with me.”

  “Oh,” she breathed, stunned by the request. Guess it wasn’t so silly.

  “I know you’re not used to expressing yourself out loud,” he continued, “but that needs to end with me. Please.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, feeling guilty.

  “Thank you.” He kissed her head then gave her some room. “So, I get the sense I make you feel dependent.”

  Layla grabbed a piece of blueberry muffin and stuffed it in her mouth, trying to ignore how buttery and delicious it was so she could consider his interpretation. “That’s a good way to put it,” she decided, “a nice way, because what I really feel like is a child. And that muffin is incredible.”

  “Hmm…” His fingers trailed from her hair to her throat then lower. “I don’t see you as a child.”

  “I know,” she assured, pulling his palm to her heart.

  “It’s the way the men in my life treat women,” he added. “It’s the way I was raised to be. I know you’re not helpless. I take care of you because I want to, because it makes me feel good.”

  “I know,” she repeated, keeping her eyes on his, which seemed to be pleading with her to understand and accept.

  “Then back to my original question,” he whispered. “Does it bother you?”

  “No, Quin. I love how you take care of me, but it’s still new. I need to adjust.”

  “It’s not all on your shoulders, Layla. I can adjust, too. If you need a sense of independence, tell me, and we’ll figure out a way to give it to you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He laughed and drummed his fingers on her heart. “You’re silly. Don’t thank me for this.”

  She smiled as she pulled his palm into a kiss. Then she slipped his hand back into her robe before attacking the rest of that muffin.

  Once they'd eaten enough to stay nourished, he carried her to the sofa. Then he showered her in teasing kisses before leaving her there so he could clean their breakfast mess. She pouted as she watched him walk away, but the TV remote was nearby, so she reached for the distraction.

  “I wouldn't bother with the TV,” he said, refilling their coffee mugs. “They're almost here.”

  Layla jolted upright, her stomach flipping as her fidgety fingers dropped the remote. She stood, thinking she might get dressed. Then she sat, deciding there wasn’t time. She played percussion on her knees then turned her attention to a fruit basket on the table. Apples and oranges hopped around in the air before peeling and slicing themselves. Then a plate flew from the kitchen and smoothly landed on the coffee table. The uniform pieces of fruit arranged themselves on the plate as the rejected peels and cores zoomed to the trash. Then a fresh flower arrangement appeared on the table.

  Quin laughed, and Layla looked up, watching him approach with their coffee. He placed the mugs on the table. Then he sat on the sofa and pulled her onto his lap. “That looked like a fun way to fidget.”

  The moment he touched her, her heart rate slowed and her muscles relaxed. She remained nervous, but the need to act was gone. “It makes a big difference when you touch me.”

  He smiled and pulled her palm to his cheek. “It's the same for me, and it will always be that way. We'll never get over that feeling.”

  She watched him kiss her wrist, remembering the unease she felt when they were in separate rooms. “So how do bonded couples leave each other's sides?”

  “They don't unless absolutely necessary.”

  Her eyes widened. “So you and I will never be apart?”

  He soberly looked over. “I sincerely hope not.”

  “What about your job?”

  “We'll figure something out.”

  “I guess we have a lot to figure out.” Her gaze fell to her lap as her mind flipped through things that would need to change. His career was on a perpetual hiatus, he'd have to move in with her, and any future plans he'd made would have to be rethought. His life had been flipped upside down overnight.

  “Stop, Layla.”

  His stern voice had her head snapping up. “Stop what?”

  “Stop thinking I'm making big sacrifices, because I'm not. You’re my life, just you. All the other things are accessories, and I don't need accessories if I don't have my life. Do you feel like you're missing out?”

  “No!”

  “Then you must know I feel the same. We're bonded, love. We're on the same wavelength. We have been this entire time, but now we have proof, and not just emotional proof.” He waved a hand through the gold and silver haze around them. “We have visual proof of how much we love each other and how much we need to be together. What you feel, I feel, so if you're concerned I'm missing something, search yourself, because if I'm missing it, you're missing it.”

  “Is that really how it works?”

  “Yes, angel. I'm only as happy as you are, and you're only as happy as I am.”

  She
pulled his fingers to her lips. “We make each other very happy.”

  “Yes we do,” he agreed. Then he leaned in for a slow and sweet kiss. “They're here.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes, your grandparents and my parents.”

  Her heart sped up, and he quickly placed a palm over it. “It's okay, love. This is good news.”

  She buried her face in his neck and took several deep breaths, trying to draw strength from his sturdiness. “Right… good news.”

  He quietly laughed, and it soothed her until someone tapped on the door.

  “I love you,” he whispered, softly kissing her ear.

  “I love you, too,” she returned. Then she took a deep breath and pulled her face from his neck. “Okay, let them in.”

  He kissed her cheek while mentally telling their family to come in, and she blindly clutched his hands, her eyes glued to the foyer.

  When the three golden couples entered the suite to find a fourth, their mouths fell open as the door flew shut behind them. Frozen in place, they didn’t say a word. They just stared, their features strained by disbelief; their complexions blanched by surprise.

  They eventually inched further into the room, taking in the details of the new bonded lights and changed auras, but only sighs drifted from their parted lips as their wide eyes searched and searched again.

  Finally, Cordelia and Daleen left the others and rushed forward, putting a small dent in the tension. Quin’s mom sat next to him on the sofa while Daleen knelt at his feet. Then they both took him and Layla’s hands, but they still didn't speak. They just stared, their auras vibrating and pulsing.

  Morrigan soon followed, and she didn't speak either, nor did she sit. After getting as close to Layla as she could, she laid her hands and lips on the top of her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

  The three men remained frozen, staring at the newly bonded mates in shock, but after a long and emotional moment, Serafin broke the heavy silence by clearing his throat. “How did this happen?”

  Quin looked away from Layla and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  Serafin lifted a hand to his throat and cleared it again. “Just yesterday, when everyone saw you around town, you weren't... you weren't... bonded.”

  “No,” Quin confirmed. “We bonded last night.” He smiled at Layla, remembering, and she smiled back, her eyes shiny with comprehension.

  Caitrin stepped forward with stiff shoulders and a wrinkled forehead. “Are you telling us… Are you trying to say…” He huffed as his nostrils flared. “Are you saying last night was the first time you had sex with each other?”

  Layla buried her face in Quin's neck, and he wrapped her in a hug while meeting Caitrin's stare. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  Caitrin’s chest expanded as his face reddened. “Yes! You've been sleeping in her bed for over a week. And I've never seen such a strong connection between two people without a sexual relationship present. Never.”

  Quin shrugged as he stroked the back of Layla's neck. “I won’t pretend it wasn’t a challenge, but I can control myself, particularly if her well-being warrants it. And I think this golden light surrounding us would explain our connection sans sex. If this wasn't so unbelievable, I’d say we should have seen it coming.”

  Caitrin scowled and started pacing. “I might have seen it coming if I'd known you hadn't consummated the relationship.”

  “Are you suggesting I should have filled you in on our sex life?” Quin returned. “There's no way I could have predicted this. I realize our relationship has been intense from the beginning, but what else would it be when someone like her is involved? She's perfect in everyone's eyes, not just mine, and nearly every wizard in the world would trip over themselves to give her what I've given her. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it was leading to this, so why would I concern you with our sex life?”

  “You wouldn't,” Caitrin conceded. “But never in my wildest dreams did I believe you hadn't bedded her already.”

  “You have to give him credit for willpower,” Kemble mumbled.

  Caitrin halted and looked over. “Insanity is what most wizards would call it.”

  “She was dealing with injuries,” Quin cut in, “and daily drama. You know what, this discussion is pointless, and it’s embarrassing her. It doesn’t matter when it happened or whether or not we saw it coming. What would you have done if you'd known, Caitrin? Tell me to leave her alone? No. And even if you had, do you think I would have listened? Nothing was going to stop this from happening. Now let’s move on.”

  Silence captured the room once more, and its occupants barely breathed, slowly pulling in air heavy with contrasting emotions. An invisible game of tug-of-war was taking place. Happiness and love battling worry and fear. Everyone felt it, even as they struggled with their own internal conflicts, attempting to secure a victory for optimism. Some had an easier undertaking than others.

  Kemble eyed his son’s aura as he moved behind the sofa. Then he laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “The silver cords in your auras – I’ve never seen anything like it. They’re connected, circling both of you.”

  “I know,” Quin replied. “And they’re not in our auras. They appeared with our bonded lights. We can see them.”

  “Really?” Caitrin asked, moving in for a closer look.

  “Yes,” Quin answered. “We hoped one of you could explain them.”

  Caitrin looked at Serafin, who shrugged and shook his head, so the subject was brushed aside as Caitrin continued pacing. “What are your thoughts, Serafin?”

  Serafin ran a hand down his face then mumbled into his palm. “I don't know, Caitrin. This is… this is so many things. I don't know where to begin.” He pulled his hand away from his mouth, but only to move it back to his forehead. “I don't understand how this happened. It should be impossible. Of all the unbelievable things that occur in the magical world, this is something no one ever thought they’d see.” He dropped his hand and looked over, watching the back of Layla’s head with glistening emerald eyes. “Sweet Layla, we must beg your forgiveness. We're so happy for you. I know we're not properly expressing it, but we're… overwhelmed.”

  Layla pulled her face from Quin’s neck and found her grandpa’s stare. “I understand the feeling.”

  Caitrin's gaze snapped to Quin. “Did you perform an anti-fertility ritual?”

  A collective gasp echoed through the room. Then everyone held their breath as they watched Quin. Everyone save for Morrigan that is, who held her breath, but kept her face buried in Layla's hair.

  “Yes,” Quin answered, and when they didn't exhale, he expounded. “I swear, there's absolutely no way she's pregnant.”

  Layla returned her scarlet face to his neck and quietly giggled, and everyone breathed.

  Quin laughed at them then touched his lips to Layla's cheek. “You just saved everyone from suffocation, my love. What was that giggle about?”

  She stayed hidden as she answered. “That was the second time you've had to swear I’m not pregnant, and I think you used the same words and everything. It's not really funny, though. I don't know why I laughed. It just felt like a moment that needed a laugh.”

  He smiled and played with the tips of her hair. “You're very intuitive, angel, because the moment did need a laugh.” He dropped her curl and looked up. “We understand the situation is fragile, and we're well aware of the difficulties we face, but there's no point in standing around uptight about it. That's not going to help anyone. So get yourselves something to drink and find comfortable seats. Then we’ll figure out what to do next. Layla and I are worried, but we're happy, and we’d prefer it if our union didn't have rainclouds constantly hanging over it.”

  “You're right,” Cordelia agreed. “This is a blessed union.”

  “Yes,” Kemble added, giving Quin’s shoulder another squeeze. “Now we must keep you safe so you can enjoy it.”

  “It's my number one priority,” Quin assured.
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  Kemble cleared his throat and pulled his hand away. “Of course it is.”

  Layla left Quin’s neck and looked at Daleen. Then she tried to look at Morrigan, but everywhere her head went, Morrigan went. Layla finally tilted her head all the way back, forcing Morrigan to leave it. Then she flipped her gaze between her grandmas, the only two in the room who hadn't spoken. “Are you two okay?”

  Daleen reached out with a shaky hand and touched Layla's cheek. “We're so happy for you and Quin, darling, but we're also worried. I'm sorry we aren't able to express how happy we are, but you must know we understand how beautiful and special this is.”

  Morrigan ran a hand down Layla's hair as her lips quivered. “We can see how happy you are. Now we just need make sure you stay that way.” She was obviously fighting an emotional breakdown – tears sparkling in her peach eyes like morning dew.

  Layla watched her for several seconds then reached out with both hands, taking one of Morrigan’s and one of Daleen’s. “I understand why this is hard for you, but the situation is different. I'm different.” She paused and looked down, staring at their delicate fingers as she swallowed a lump. “Please don't look at me and picture my ill mother. It makes me sad to think that's what you see when you look at me.”

  Every heart in the room constricted under the weight of her blunt honesty, and Morrigan's mouth dropped open. “It's not like that, sweetie. Of course we see you.”

  “I know you do,” Layla assured, “but you also see her. I can tell by your faces, your auras and your touch. I'm sure if I were looking at me through your eyes, I’d see the same thing, but I'm asking you to try to stop, because it's not doing anyone any good. It just makes things harder, and it makes everyone sad. She wouldn't let you get away with it if she were here.”