Page 8 of Summertime Hexy
“Yes,” I say flatly.
“Mine too,” she mutters, and starts walking toward the infirmary.
The bond yanks at my arm like a leash. I stumble slightly, catch myself, and swear under my breath.
“Oh right,” she says over her shoulder. “Can’t move more than ten feet apart or the tether zaps us. Forgot to mention that.”
“Of course you did.”
We get halfway down the trail before we’re intercepted by Alice, who looks at the glowing bond, the dark scowl on my face, and Hazel’s guilty smile, and sighs like she’s aged ten years in ten seconds.
“Don’t tell me,” Alice says. “Botched binding sigil?”
“She lit a squirrel,” I supply.
“It wassmoking,” Hazel says.
“Do you want me to call Thorn?” Alice asks, already pulling out a communication crystal.
“No,” Hazel and I say in unison.
We both blink.
Alice raises a brow. “Well, that’s horrifying.”
Back in the cabin, it becomes painfully clear we’re going to have to coordinate everything—from bathroom schedules to spell prep to where we sleep. Which is apparently six feet apart, on bunks, like prisoners in a particularly sassy fairy jail.
Hazel kicks off her boots with a dramatic flourish and flops on the bottom bunk. “This is fine. We’ll make it work. Just two professionals sharing magical space. Totally not awkward.”
I don’t respond. I’m at the desk, scanning a text on tether spells, trying to ignore how loud her presence is. Her magic, normally scattered and wild, is now brushing against mine constantly. Little sparks. Warm pulses. Her emotional state bleeds into my edge of the tether, and it’s like riding shotgun in a car with no brakes.
“Stop clenching your jaw,” she says after a while.
“Stop making me.”
“I’mnotmaking you.”
“You’re leaking.”
Hazel sits up. “Excuse me?”
“Emotionally,” I say. “You’re leaking emotion through the tether. Focus. Rein it in.”
She scoffs. “Says the brooding bloodsucker who’s been radiating ‘I hate everything’ vibes since breakfast.”
“I do hate everything,” I mutter. “But at least I contain it.”
She watches me for a beat. Then, quieter, “Is it always like this for you? Feeling everything all the time?”
I pause.
“Yes,” I admit. “But I’m trained for it. You’re not.”
She looks down at the tether and swallows. “I didn’t mean to… mess things up.”
I glance up.
Her voice isn’t sharp now. It’s soft. Almost… embarrassed.
