I went to the training hall to calm the edge off. Punching, hitting, moving--motion that emptied the head. It helped, a little.
Sweat cooled, breath evened.
I came back to my room, shook off the uniform, and buried myself in the stacks of books the shadows had dragged in.
Hours of dust and dead words. Nothing useful...until a loose page tore free and fluttered down like a moth.
It landed at my feet. I didn't touch it at first. I let the paper speak.
"Gods decide the couple. Lucky those who get the thread. Together they are extremely powerful.. to be apart is disaster. One always protects the other."
That was it...
Nothing else... No ritual...No loophole...
Just the old superstitions dressed as sacred law.
I swore under my breath...
Figures...Old tales without knife-sharp details.
I already knew one truth--death breaks the thread.
The rest?
Hidden...
Locked...
My power shielded her,
she wouldn't die easily...
Fine...
That meant I had to find another way.
There was only one person who might help: Professor Liza. Kind. Dangerous in the way scholars can be. A woman who buried truths like bones and knew which to dig up.
But tomorrow I had a trial.
Practice first. I emptied the room of my anger with a shadow-dog, letting it chase me until my lungs burned.
Then I slept like a blade under my ribs..
semi-calm, always ready.
.....
The next morning, I finished my fights as quickly as possible. Ten matches. Ten bodies on the floor...
The crowd barely breathed.
But even in victory, my mind wasn't here.
The thread tugged. Constant. Burning. I didn't need to see her to know--Serie was in the stands. Watching...
I clenched my teeth and avoided the pull, leaving before the sensation drowned me.
After the match I left early..without waiting for Leo's summary.
I had something else to do.
Professor Liza's office was lined with maps and broken artifacts. She looked up at my entrance like she'd been expecting trouble. Maybe she was used to me skulking in between classes.
"Kael," she said, surprised but soft.
"What brings Level Ninety to my door?"
I shut the door behind me and didn't bother with niceties.
"I need a favor."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Depends. What would you steal from me this time?"
"How to break a red thread bond."
Her face did this odd thing...shock that tasted like curiosity.
"You....bonded? That… is a miracle." Her voice softened.
"Those threads vanished centuries ago." She leaned forward, fingers steepled.
"You didn't tell anyone?"
"No."
I didn't want anyone to know..
Not Ruan. Not even myself, sometimes. "Keep it that way. Please."
Her eyes turned serious.
"Kael, you can't meddle with fate without consequences. If this is real...." she exhaled, "....it's dangerous."
"Just tell me anything," I snapped. "Anything that'll help me cut it."
She closed her eyes as if thinking through a veiled book.
"There's very little in the texts. One line appears in scattered scriptures: the thread binds two souls. To break it, you must first make them one...soul to soul. One extreme desire shared: love, hate, lust...anything that fuses intent. Only then can the ritual be attempted. But..." she held up a hand, "..no exact ritual survives. And death is easiest, if brutal."
That hit cold. "One soul," I muttered. "One extreme desire." Hate? I tried the word in my mouth and it tasted false. I had never wanted hate for her. If anything, the thread turned everything sideways.
"Seek a seer," Liza added quietly, as if admitting a forbidden name. "They remember older rites. But seers are rare--and seers demand price."
"Where?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Not easily found. Look through the marginalia in the old myth collection. Seers are mentioned in footnotes, broken letters. I'll see what I can dig up, quietly."
I left with a tight head and a list of half-promises. The library called me back like a wound.
.....
Back in my room, the shadows moved like obedient soldiers.
I tore through the tomes we'd issued...holding my breath, looking for a word, any scrap. Marginalia. Old notes..
. A cryptic line written in the margin of a sixth-century codex: "Where two flames cross, the seam may loosen; but the seam eats the hand that cuts." I tore the page out, shoved it in my pocket.
Great.. Helpful... And terrible...
A week bled past like a wound--training, fights, more searching.
Rumors crawled through the halls: Serie was bullied, scraped at by the world. Her friends had drifted away. The hall shouted secrets: level one manifested. I felt my chest snap like wire.
Serie Winston had manifested. Level one.
If she had manifested,
she might feel the bond. Maybe even see it.
That left me no time.
Before she found out, before she dared question it, I had to end this.
I strapped my boots. The shadows coiled around me like chains.
Tonight, I would go to her room
A single thought kept me steady...
I must end this before it ends me.
The University hummed beneath the moon like a beast breathing. The thread pulsed against my skin like a second heartbeat.
I tasted iron...
I pushed open the window.
The night swallowed me...
South Wing... First floor...
I moved like a shadow, my own darkness carrying me toward her door. The bond pulled stronger with every step...like a rope dragging me by the chest. Her room wasn't shielded. Typical.
I slipped inside.
The tug hit me like a hammer. The thread burned red and bright in the dark. She stirred at once, eyes opening, lashes fluttering. And then she saw it.
Her gaze followed the thread, searching its end until it landed on me. Fear flashed across her face. I felt it in my gut.
She tried to speak but no sound came.
I used the moment, crossing the space in two strides. I was on her bed before she could blink, my hand pressed over her mouth.
Her eyes flared wide.
Recognition....
"Don't make noise," I hissed, voice low and dangerous. "I'll kill you if you do. Just listen."
Her body tensed beneath my palm, then slowly she nodded. I removed my hand, fighting my own reaction to the heat of her skin.
"Can you see that?" I asked, jerking my chin at the glowing thread.
"Yes," she whispered, voice shaking. "Why? Why are you here? What is this?"
"It's the damned red thread bond," I spat. "Why or how...I don't know... But I want it cut. That's it."
"I want the same," she shot back. "I don't want to be chained to you either. Cut it, whatever it is. And leave my damn room."
"Neither do I," I growled.
She narrowed her eyes. "How do we cut it?"
I hesitated.
"We need to be one soul by one extreme desire first. Then the ritual. I don't know the ritual yet, but I'll get it. The easy way…" My mouth twisted. "…is just to die."
Her jaw set. "Then you die."
Anger surged. My hands cupped her cheeks, not gently.
"If that were possible, I'd have killed you already. But my power keeps protecting you. This thread steals from me....steals my power."
She laughed. No fear in her eyes.
"That's why you're here? Then maybe it'll help me survive here. Why should I cut it?"
I froze. "What?"
"If this bond benefits me, why would I give it up?" she said coldly.
"After cutting, you'll kill me. I'm not that stupid. I didn't ask for this thread. But if it keeps me alive, I'll use it."
"F**k you."
The words tore out.
"Lose your temper, Mr. Alanto?" she taunted softly.
"Tell me the truth. What do I get if we cut it? No lies. I don't care about this thread, but I won't throw away a shield for nothing."
I muttered, "Fine. I'll protect you after the bond breaks. Until your graduation. Kael Alanto doesn't make empty promises. I swear on my father."
Her expression flickered. "Fine."
I swallowed...
My voice came out low. "What do you feel about me?"
She blinked. "What?"
"Before the ritual we need a mutual feeling. A strong desire. Hate? Love? Lust? Something. Otherwise it won't break. This thread is messing with my head. So..what is it from your side?"
"No. It's not hate,"
she said slowly. "It's…" She hesitated, green eyes glinting. "…lust."
I hadn't realized how close I'd leaned in until then. My face was inches from hers, her breath mixing with mine.
The word hit me like fire.
I didn't think.
I kissed her.
Hard.
She didn't move at first, didn't push me away.
Her silence felt like agreement, and it made my body react before my mind could stop it.
Her lips were soft, warm, dangerous. I pulled back a second...ready to run..but then she kissed me back.
My mind went vacant.
Nothing existed but her.
My hands found her waist. Her fingers slipped into my hair. The thread burned brighter and hotter with every touch. I felt her little moan as my lips trailed down to her neck, her collarbone.
The world spun. I was losing myself.
"Enough,"
she whispered suddenly, pulling away. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes dark.
"So it's mutual. It's done then? Only the ritual left?"
My mind scrambled. "Maybe. I don't know. I'll find the right answer soon."
"Good." Her voice was steel again. "Now leave."
I stood, heart hammering, her taste still on my lips. Something in her eyes flickered...anger, confusion, or something else entirely.
I gestured toward the window.
"I shielded your room. No one can touch you now. My promise. My benefit."
She didn't answer, just pointed at the window again.
I left.
Back in my room, her scent still clung to me. Her lips still burned against mine. My chest ached but it wasn't pain. It was sweet, sharp, like something had finally cracked open.
I pressed my palms to my eyes.
I didn't want to think about it.
But I couldn't stop.