Page 160 of Bonded Chaos

Her words made even less sense as I reread them. I practically had to drag her, kicking and screaming, to the tavern just to get her to leave her apartment.

Cadence was many things, but adventurous wasn’t one of them.

As for finding a mate, the woman practically flayed me with her eyes for daring to suggest such an atrocity. There was no way I’d ever believe she left her home and our parents to find a mate.

None.

I know this may seem like it’s all come out of nowhere, but trust me, Callum, this is what I want.

You don’t fucking say!

Everything is as it should be.

Please try to understand.

Right now, I am choosing to focus on myself.

I am excited for the first time in a long while.

I winced.

Reading those words for the second time hadn’t been any easier. Was her life so unfulfilling, so dull, that she felt the need to leave without a word just to escape the tedium?

I didn’t want to believe it, but there was a part of me that wouldn’t blame her if she did. She carried the load when it came to our parents, and I had unfairly allowed her to do so. The demands of her job were also all-consuming, and I had to believe that the monotony grew tiresome.

Now, I know Mama and Papa will worry, but they don’t need to.

Could you please try to reassure them that I will be all right?

Eternally yours, Cadence.

Yeah, there was little chance of that, and I doubt her letter would ease their worries.

I leaned back in my chair, running my hand through my hair as I considered her words.

There was something not quite right.

Cadence had spoken with a formality that was devoid of her usual playfulness, and she never missed a chance to tease me.

Then there was the way she had written her sentences. They felt overly constructed — as if she were weaving an intricate knot, and all I had to do was pull the string taut for everything to fall into place.

Unease settled in my chest as I fought to make sense of it.

I placed the letter on my desk and drew a deep breath as I struggled to settle my spiraling thoughts.

Glancing around me, I took in the disheveled state of my home and tried to remember the last time I had tidied it.

My eyes snagged on the tiny wooden horse Cadence had made for me when we were children, and nostalgia mixed with anguish at the memory. It was a ghastly thing, and the only way to tell it was a horse was to squint so much you could hardly see it.

But Cadence had been so proud. She mentioned it countless times in our letters over the years.

Our letters.

“Shit!”

I tossed everything off my desk and scrambled to find a blank piece of parchment and some ink.

My pulse quickened as I recalled the way we used to hide messages in our letters as children. The first letter of each paragraph spelled out the hidden words. It was a simple trick, but it worked.

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