I had read about the Mate Bond in the ancient Blackwood texts. The books described it as a "golden thread connecting two souls," a poetic metaphor for love and shared strength.
The books lied.
Right now, the bond wasn't a gentle thread. It was a high-voltage electrical cable plugged directly into my brain. I gripped the edge of the tactical table in the command truck, gasping for air as a tidal wave of pure, unfiltered violence washed over me.
I didn't just feel Caleb’s anger; I tasted the copper tang of blood in my own mouth. I felt the jarring, bone-rattling impact of his fists smashing through metal. I felt the heat of laser fire singeing his fur.
"Luna?" Magda stepped forward, her hand on her machete, looking at me with alarm. "Are you hurt? Did the pup—"
"No," I gritted my
