he hated the bond. hated that it was there, pulling at him with every glance, every moment you were near. but he couldn’t—didn’t—let himself give in. you deserved someone who could offer you all of him, and every part of himself was still bound to the shadows of his past, to the guilt and scars he carried. you deserved better than a broken warrior who still couldn’t figure out what to do with the bond between you.

his gaze flicked to you, and for a brief second, he wanted to reach out, to pull you close and feel the warmth of the bond between you. but the thought of that—of giving into it—sickened him.

“do you ever wonder if it’s worth it?” he asked, his voice rough, as though the question burned. his words weren’t about you, not entirely. it was about him. the truth was harder than he could admit.