Page 114 of Bound By Song

I see it in Dane, too – the way he never stops tracking her movements, the quiet care he pours into everything he does for her. And Blaise…Blaise is no longer playing games. He’s here. He’spresent.

And me?

I’ve been falling this whole time.

Falling for her fire. Her fight. Her walls and her jagged edges and the softness she tries so hard to bury. Her scent is already soaked into my skin. Her laugh lives somewhere behind my ribs. She frustrates the hell out of me – but I’d burn the whole world down if it meant keeping her safe.

She’s ours.

And god help anyone who tries to take her away.

I push to my feet and step out of the room.

Dane is waiting, leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. His expression is unreadable, but the sharpness in his gaze tells me he heard everything. He doesn’t miss much.

“She’s still fighting,” I tell him.

Dane’s jaw ticks. “Of course she is. I think it’s nerves. Less about her omega and more about her…inexperience.”

I scrub a hand through my hair, tension thrumming beneath my skin. “She doesn’t trust it. Any of it. She thinks if she gives in, she won’t get back out.”

“She won’t,” Dane says simply. “Not the same.”

He’s right. We all know it. Once an omega lets herself belong, once she sinks into it, there’s no undoing it. She can claw atthe edges all she wants, but she’ll never be the same as she was before.

“Then we wait,” I say, voice low. “She’s exhausted, but when she wakes up, she’s going to fight us all over again.”

Dane exhales slowly, rubbing at his jaw. “She’s ours, Xar.”

Dane’s words hang in the air, unshakable as stone.

She’s ours.

I don’t argue, because I know it’s true. But knowing it and havingheraccept it are two different things entirely. I honestly thought we were making progress with this.

Dane pushes off the wall, rolling his shoulders like the weight of the conversation is settling into his muscles. “She’s pushing now, but when her full heat hits, she won’t be able to.”

I nod, my jaw tightening. “We need to be ready.”

Because this? This was only the beginning. The warning signs. A deep, residual craving, her instincts still tangled up in the aftermath of something her body isn’t done with yet. When the next wave hits – when she fully crashes into heat – she won’t be able to fight it, no matter how much she wants to.

Dane runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “She needs to eat. Hydrate. We have a short window before her body drags her under again.”

“She won’t take it from us easily,” I mutter.

“She doesn’t have to,” Dane says. “We make it easy. Make it natural.”

I glance back towards the door. “I don’t think Blaise will get her to eat something. She likes fighting him.”

Dane hums in agreement, then hesitates. “But it’s not just the physical.”

No. It never is.

She needs more than just food and water. She needs comfort. Safety.Touch.

She needs to wake up and not immediately feel trapped. She needs to know she still has a choice – even when every instinct inside her is screaming that she doesn’t.

Dane exhales, low and slow, almost thoughtful. Then, so softly I almost miss it, he hums a few quiet notes under his breath.

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