Chapter 14 · Prove It's a Tonic

The bond hit him like a fist to the chest.

One second his hand was out — six inches from my belly, close enough that I felt the heat of his palm through two layers of wool. Crushed silver-root was still stinking up the rain between us. The next second he was down on one knee in the gravel with his fingers dug into rock, breathing through his teeth like a man who'd taken a bullet.

I did that.

Nine days I'd held the tether shut. Every time his name came up behind my eyes. Every time I woke up reaching for the cold side of a bed. Nine days, and then I opened it. On purpose. In front of him.

He got his breath back before I got my heart back. Slow. Measured. Alpha again.

"Do that again," he said, "and I can't promise what happens in this canyon."

"Get up." Steadier than the rest of me. "I'm not kneeling to you and you're not kneeling to me. Bad look for both of us."

He stood. Didn't let go of the rock right away. That was the only reason I knew I'd rattled him —