Chapter 32
Rayna
Krayvon started with the easy stuff.
"Hand," he said, holding his own out.
I gave him mine. At this point, modesty and personal space were old news. He'd already stuck three small crystal nodes along my forearm and one at the hollow of my throat. Thin, hair-fine wires ran from them to a monitor humming quietly on the counter.
“Baseline,” he murmured. “No bond stimulus. Just you.”
“Just me,” I said. “Standard-issue human disaster.”
He ignored that and focused on the readings. The crystals pulsed faintly against my skin—cool, then warm, then neutral.
On the screen, a green line rolled along, steady and unremarkable.
“Resting pulsefire,” he narrated, mostly for the recorder in the corner. “Slight Shroud interference, but within expected range for a bonded human at
