Without the Bond
1140 Words
Ashen.
Earlier that Afternoon.
Moon stayed beside me after the others quieted.
The fire had burned low, leaving the clearing washed in orange shadows and silver moonlight. Nara was asleep beneath Veyra’s cloak. Solan sat near the edge of camp pretending not to need rest. Veyra whispered insults at Lord Pebblewick like that was a normal way to keep watch.
Moon sat close enough that her shoulder touched mine.
I stared at the folded letter in my hands.
My little prince.
The words still did not feel like they belonged to me.
“You are quiet,” Moon said.
“I am usually quiet.”
“Not like this.”
I looked at her then.
Her hair had come loose from its pins, falling around her face in soft waves. There was a scratch near her jaw, a bruise darkening at her wrist, and dirt on the hem of her dress.
She looked nothing like the untouchable princess from the ball.
She looked real.
Too real.
Too close.
Too easy to want.
“The bond is unfair to you,” I said.
Her brows drew together. “What?”
“It makes you feel things for me.” I looked down at the letter again. “Things you might not have felt otherwise.”
The silence that followed was not soft.
It was sharp.
“Ashen.”
I already knew that tone.
Careful.
Royal.
Dangerous.
I looked at her.
“The bond pulled me toward you,” she said. “I will not lie about that. It made me notice you. It made your scent calm me. It made your pain reach me. It made being away from you feel wrong before I understood why.”
I swallowed.
“But it did not invent you.”
The words struck quietly.
Moon shifted until she was facing me fully.
“The bond did not make you step in front of a blade for Nara. It did not make you steal food for her when you were a child. It did not make you apologize to Solan after you mistook him for a threat, even though you were only protecting us. It did not make you build shelter before resting. It did not make you offer to carry me when I was too proud to admit my legs were shaking.”
Heat crept up my neck.
“I was only—”
“Taking care of me,” she said. “Yes. That is exactly my point.”
I had no answer.
Moon’s eyes softened, but her voice stayed steady.
“The bond did not make you gentle with me when you had every reason to be angry at the world. It did not make you careful. It did not make you humble. It did not make you strong in the way you are strong.”
I frowned faintly. “In what way?”
She looked at my hands.
Then back at my face.
“You keep surviving without letting cruelty become the only language you speak.”
Something in my chest tightened.
Moon leaned closer, not touching my face, but close enough that I could feel the warmth of her breath.
“I have seen powerful men, Ashen. I grew up surrounded by them. Men with crowns. Men with titles. Men with armies. Men who announce every good thing they do so the room remembers to admire them.”
Her mouth curved faintly.
“You do not do that.”
“I do not have much to announce.”
“That is not true.”
“It feels true.”
“I know.” Her voice softened. “That is what hurts.”
I looked away.
Moon’s fingers slid into mine.
This time, I let them.
No flinch.
No retreat.
No wall through the bond.
“I am not falling for you because the Moon Goddess tied a string between us,” she whispered. “I am falling for you because when everyone else sees a threat, I see a boy who kept loving his sister in a house that tried to beat love out of him. I see someone who is afraid of being wanted but still tries to give comfort when he knows I need it. I see a prince who does not know he is a prince because no one ever treated him like he mattered.”
My throat tightened until breathing hurt.
“Moon.”
“I think I would have fallen for you anyway,” she said.
I went still.
The bond warmed between us, but it was not pushing. Not forcing. Not demanding.
Just there.
Like a candle in a dark room.
Moon smiled sadly.
“Maybe slower. Maybe with more arguing. Maybe I would have been too proud to admit it at first.” Her thumb brushed over my knuckles. “But yes. I think I would have found you, Ashen. Even without the bond.”
I did not know what to do with that.
Wanted was one thing.
Chosen was another.
Chosen felt more dangerous.
More impossible.
More precious.
“You cannot know that,” I said.
“No,” she agreed. “But I know myself.”
Her eyes held mine.
“And I know what I see when I look at you.”
The fire cracked softly.
“What do you see?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Moon’s expression changed.
Not pity.
Something warmer.
“I see someone worth staying for.”
The words went through me like moonlight through ice.
I lowered my head because I could not hold her gaze and keep everything inside me steady at the same time.
Moon’s hand lifted slowly.
She paused, asking without words.
I leaned into her touch before fear could talk me out of it.
Her fingers brushed my cheek.
Gentle.
Certain.
“I do not want the White Wolf more than I want you,” she whispered. “I do not want the heir more than I want you. I do not want the prophecy, or the ring, or the crown more than I want the boy who asked if I was hurt while he was bleeding.”
I closed my eyes.
The bond pulsed.
Warm.
Alive.
Mine.
“I do not know how to be that person,” I admitted.
“You already are.”
“I do not know how to believe it.”
“Then borrow my belief until you have your own.”
I laughed once under my breath.
It sounded broken.
It felt real.
Moon’s hand stayed against my cheek.
And for the first time, I did not wonder if the bond had tricked her into seeing something beautiful where there was only damage.
I let myself believe, for one breath, that maybe she saw me clearly.
And maybe she wanted me anyway.
- Writer
