Chapter 8 · The Seal Cracks

"Stop staring."

Adrian doesn't look away. Doesn't even blink. He's been sitting against the far wall for three hours now, legs stretched out, arms crossed. Watching.

"I'm not," he says.

"You've been watching me for fifteen years. Think you'd be better at lying by now."

His mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. "I wasn't lying. I'm listening."

"To what?"

"Your heartbeat." He tilts his head. "It's faster than yesterday. The bond's pulling harder."

Lynn wraps her arms around her knees. The room's getting smaller. Not the walls—those are solid stone, cold enough to make her breath fog—but the space between them. Every time she shifts on the bed, his head snaps up. Every time he moves, her ribs tighten like someone's pulling a wire through her chest.

Seventy-two hours. Day one's barely halfway done.

Her dad's jacket's draped over the chair by the door. Too far to grab without getting closer to Adrian. She's been wearing the same shirt for two days. Smells like old coffee and the bar's fryer grease.

"What happens when it pulls too hard?"

"The second exchange triggers." Adrian stands. The movement's smooth, controlled. She hates how he never stumbles. "We share blood again.