The second the final whistle blows, I know something’s wrong. Not because we lost, we didn’t. I played one of the best games of my life. But I barely remember any of it. Every throw, every snap, every hit… it all blurred under the constant pull in my chest.
The bond. It started tightening during halftime, a sharp tug low in my ribs, like someone had hooked a wire straight into my heart and yanked. By the fourth quarter, it was a steady thrum under my skin, pulsing with Raven’s emotions. Fear. Embarrassment. Hurt. And something else I can’t name.
I shower fast, barely listening to the guys celebrating around me. I’m out of the locker room before the coach even finishes his speech. The moment I step outside, I hear it. Whispers. Not about the game. Not about the win. About her.
“She was t
