Page 122 of Knotting the Firefighters
That's still the plan?
Despite the bonding complication?
Silas's smirk is subtle but present, medical mask slipping slightly.
"If thinking of it as a trial period makes you comfortable, why not?" His tone carries indulgence usually reserved for children or particularly stubborn patients. "We can spend three months determining true compatibility, then reassess based on results."
That's... reasonable?
More reasonable than I expected?
Though his phrasing suggests he thinks results are predetermined.
"What about the bond?" My hand gestures vaguely at all of them, indicating the invisible connection apparently linking us. "Permanent pack bonds aren't exactly reversible. This isn't a subscription you can cancel with a customer service call."
Silas's expression shifts to professional assessment, medical expertise taking precedence:
"There are medical interventions for dissolving bonds when it's determined to be in the best interest of the pack and Omega. Rare circumstances require extensive documentationand psychological evaluation, but it is possible if the situation genuinely isn't working."
Escape route.
He's providing an escape route instead of insisting this is permanent regardless of my feelings.
That's... surprisingly respectful?
Aidric frowns—expression suggesting he disagrees with Silas's reassurance but doesn't vocalize objection. His silence speaks volumes about internal conflict, about wanting to argue but recognizing that doing so would reveal too much.
Calder moves then—crossing the distance between us with deliberate steps, his hands finding my hair with familiar tenderness that makes my breath catch.
"I'm not breaking my bond with you," he states with quiet certainty, amber eyes holding mine with intensity that steals rational thought. "Regardless of what others choose, regardless of how this experiment proceeds—you're mine and I'm yours and that's not changing."
Oh.
That's—
That's a lot.
"You have to go to LA," I remind him, logic attempting to override the flutter in my chest. "Captain position, your own station, everything you've worked toward. You can't abandon a career for—for whatever this is."
For me.
Can't abandon dreams for a broken Omega who keeps running into burning buildings.
Calder shakes his head, a gentle smile contradicting the firmness in his voice:
"I'm not going."
What.
"You—what?" Eloquence has completely abandoned me. "But the promotion, the opportunity, the validation you've been chasing for years?—"
"Probably a trap," he interrupts calmly, like discussing the possibility of rain rather than a career-ending decision. "Suspicious timing, convenient circumstances, everything designed to remove me from your support system when you're most vulnerable."
His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing across skin with reverence I don't deserve.
"Plus, I realized something while you were sleeping—going to LA wouldn't make me happy. The badge, the authority, the professional recognition—none of it matters if achieving it means losing my peace."
His peace.
