Page 185 of Bound By Song

Because I’m here. I’m safe.

And for the first time in my life, Iknow– deep in my bones – that I’m not alone.

It’s a wondrous thing.

“Mm.” Blaise stirs first, nuzzling into my throat with a lazy sigh. “She’s awake.”

“I know,” Dane murmurs from my other side. “Her breathing changed.”

“I felt it,” Xar rumbles, voice sleep-rough and close to my ear. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” I whisper back.

“How do you feel?” Dane’s hand smooths down my side in slow, grounding strokes.

“Floaty,” I admit. “A little sore. Starving.”

That earns a low chuckle from all three of them.

“How long was I…?”

“Five days,” Xar says, kissing the back of my shoulder. “You made it through the full heat. Crashed hard last night.”

Blaise hums against my neck. “Scared the shit out of me, honestly. You went completely out. Thought we’d broken you.”

“It’s the bond,” Dane says gently. “It grounded you. Pulled you through the last of it.”

I close my eyes and let the weight of that settle. Five days of raw intensity. Of surrender. Of them. And now – this soft, golden quiet.

My stomach growls so loudly I feel it in my toes.

“There she is,” Blaise grins. “Alright, honey. That’s our cue. Come on – Eggs Benedict, coming up.”

Breakfast is slow, warm, and perfect.

I sit on the counter in Xar’s hoodie – faded black, stretched soft with wear, too big on me in a way that makes me feel held. I watch them move around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine: Blaise whisks hollandaise like his life depends on it after begging to be allowed to do something and promising he won’t mess it up, Dane poaches eggs with the calm efficiency of a man who’s done this a thousand times, and Xar slices buttery brioche instead of English muffins, muttering about “textural superiority.”

The bond hums between us – steady and low, a thread of contentment that pulses every time they glance my way or brush past each other. I catch waves of amusement from Blaise, the quiet protectiveness of Dane, and the focused calm that always seems to roll off Xar in low tides.

We eat together at the little kitchen table, still half-lit with soft Christmas lights, and the food tastes like heaven.

After, I slip upstairs for a long, hot shower –alonefor the first time in days. Don’t get me wrong, the bathroom in the nest is lovely, but I’m desperate for a change of scenery. The steam rises around me as I take my time, washing away the final traces of heat and nesting and scenting. Curious, I graze my fingers over my three new bond marks – and gasp. They’re so sensitive. I comb conditioner through my hair. Shave slowly. Linger under the water like I’m defrosting.

When I finally step out, a folded pile of clothes waits for me on the dresser. A cashmere jumper the colour of ash-dove grey and a pair of deep forest-green leggings. On top, a note in Blaise’s scruffy handwriting:

Wear this one. You’ll look like a forest fairy in it.

I shake my head fondly – but I wear it anyway. The jumper is soft enough to make me sigh. And the leggings hug me in all the right ways. For the first time in weeks, I feel like myself again.

Just…warmer.

Softer.

Loved.

I decide today will be a day of recovery. Of lounging around and doing nothing, even though I’ve basically spent the last week on my back. I blush. I mean, my body is sore in ways that tell me I was not lazy during my heat. I think one more day to recover and just enjoy being bonded is more than okay. But I will check on the chickens later. No doubt Dane or one of the others looked after them while I was unable to.

Downstairs, I pause in the hallway, the bond flickering in and out as I tune into them. Dane is upstairs, probably measuring up for the next room he wants to renovate. I didn’t realise it before, but beneath his calm stillness, there’s a burning need to bedoing.Maybe it comes from being a drummer, but I suspect it comes from his need to protect. All of my alphas have it, but his trauma makes his need more pronounced. He’s content and calm though, so I have nothing to worry about.

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