Page 34 of The Devil's Canvas

"Nope. You’re thinking," he replies smoothly, leaning back like this is nothing new, like he’s already a step ahead. His fingers drum lazily against his thigh, his mouth twitching—half amusement, half boredom, like he’s waiting for me to catch up.

I stare at him, my skin prickling. "Thinking? What? What the hell are you talking about? Don’t say that you can ‘read’ me, no one has been able to do that for years."

He sighs, shifts to his feet, walking toward me—slow, measured, like he has all the time in the world. "Yeah, darling. Thinking."

I swallow hard, trying to suppress the unease curling through me. "I think it’s time you explain."

A ghost of a smile. "The soulmate bond," he says.

I scoff. "The what?"

His amusement doesn’t waver, but there’s something sharper beneath it. "The soulmate bond," he repeats, like I should already know.

I fold my arms, grounding myself. "That’s not real."

"Oh, it’s real," he says, voice steady. "And you’re already feeling it." Julian watches me for a long moment before exhaling. His voice lowers, slow and deliberate. "The bond isn’t a choice. You don’t get to pick who your soul is tied to. Neither do I. It’s written into existence, whether we like it or not."

I shake my head, refusing to accept that. "No. That’s—no. That’s not how things work."

"It is," he says, lips twitching. "A beautiful, impossible, inescapable trap."

That should be poetic. Instead, it feels like a warning.

"You’ve felt it already," he continues, watching me too closely. "The pull. The way your emotions spike when I’m near. The way your body reacts before your mind catches up."

I stiffen but don’t answer.

"That’s the Mark," he says, his gaze flicking toward it. "A physical manifestation of the bond. You can see it, but you haven’t learned how to use it yet. Not fully." He watches me carefully, his voice even, measured. "It reacts—to emotions, to proximity, to supernatural forces. And when I get too close—" he takes a slow step forward, the air tightening, heat curling beneath my skin "—you’ll feel it."

He steps forward, closing the space between us, and instantly, a slow, crawling heat spreads through my veins. A pulse beneath my skin that wasn’t there a second ago. I jerk back, breath catching. "What the hell—?"

Julian smirks. "See?"

My hand presses against my chest, heart pounding.

"It’s not just physical," he says, voice quieter now. "The bond is emotional. You’ll feel what I feel. Anger. Pain. Desire. Fear. It doesn’t matter if you want to or not."

"That sounds like a nightmare."

"It can be," he admits. "Especially when one of us is injured. Pain sharing is part of the deal. If I take a hit, you’ll feel it. Sometimes a dull ache. Sometimes like it’s happening to you."

I swallow hard. "Fantastic. What else?"

He tilts his head. "It goes deeper than that. Over time, it strengthens. If we let it."

Something about the way he says ‘let it’ makes my stomach tighten.

"It’s why I can hear you," he adds.

A chill runs through me. "What?"

Julian’s smirk deepens, like he’s been waiting for me to realize. "You’re not hearing me yet," he says. "But I hear you."

Dread seeps into my spine. "You—" I cut myself off, a dozen thoughts spiraling at once.

How much has he heard?

His expression answers before he does. "Everything, sweetheart."

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