Pain sharpens the world instead of dimming it, and that is how I know I am still conscious, still present enough for whatever comes next to matter. The forest floor is cold against my cheek, damp earth pressed into my skin, and every breath feels shallow and wrong as pressure pins me down, hands firm and deliberate on my shoulders and back. I try to twist, to find leverage, but whoever is holding me knows exactly where to place their weight to make resistance expensive.
The bond is a blaze.
Not panic, not blind fear, but a violent surge of awareness and fury that snaps outward the moment Adam shouts my name, and the sound of it cuts through the noise of blood in my ears with terrifying clarity. He is close, too close for comfort, and I feel his alarm spike through the connection like a b
