Page 39 of These Fractured Bonds

She asked, “Is there any way to make it more… pleasant?”

“Unfortunately, no. Only with experience will the worst symptoms subside.”

“Why does it suck so much?”

“It may be comforting to know that these are universal symptoms. Every Fae who has ever shadowstepped experiences them. On average, it takes about four to five times for the vomiting to stop.”

“Great. Only four more times to go,” she muttered. “So, how does it work when you’re not being hunted by nox creatures?”

“You’ll want to stick close to me.” He raised his arm, signaling her to close the remaining distance.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always serious.”

She raised her eyebrows. Underneath the ice shell existed the August she had befriended, and although she couldn’t remember, she knew he wasn’talwaysserious. His arm remained raised, revealing his well-defined chest underneath his open jacket. Warmth crawled up her neck.

“How come Leo isn’t shadowstepping with me?”

His features hardened. “He shadowstepped with you under great duress—an emergency—but it’s too risky with his level of power. And… he’s never visited the Curse Eater before.”

She understood two things then: One, August didn’t approve of Leo risking shadowstepping with her. Two, he had visited the infamous Curse Eater in the past. Her interest was piqued, and noticing he had relaxed, she was emboldened to ask the question that had been on her mind all morning.

“Were weactuallyfriends?”

It had the intended effect. His irises lit up, a myriad of emotions warring in the browns and greens. He stamped them out, like snuffing out a flame, but not before the word escaped his lips like a confession he hadn’t meant to make.

“Yes.”

The turmoil fascinated her. She knew not of a friendship that had caused such throes before, but Yareli, like an expectant juror, deemed his answer sincere. She slipped her arms around him, and unlike his cold demeanor, he was warm. It rushed through her, building into a steady pulse in tempo with her heart. It was nothing like Leo’s heat—red-hot flames threatening to consume her until she was nothing. She ignored the leap ofher heart. It was traitorous to feel nervous with Leo nearby. But August smelled like a forest. Pine sap and wood filled her nostrils, filling her lungs with its delicious, earthy scent. It left her lightheaded, almost giddy. Unlike August, who seemed unfazed, she struggled to keep her face neutral.

He continued his instruction without missing a beat. “I’m going to place my arm around you.”

He enveloped her, and she swore he stiffened. Her pulse quickened. Her nostrils flared.

“You need to be closer than that,” Leo yelled, and Yareli flinched. Guilt hit again like a hot blade in her lower back.

“He’s right. Come closer.”

August’s words sent a shiver down her back, and she knew she was fucked. She tried blaming it on her nerves. It was the pending adventure; the newness of it—a new location, a new friend from her lost past, a new hurdle to overcome. It was a paltry defense, and she knew it, but she would hold onto the denial for now.

He drew her closer until her chest pressed against his. She closed her eyes, her throat dry.

“What next?”

“We shadowstep. It will be like a constricting, heavy blanket until you feel like you’re suffocating. It’s going to be frightening, but I need you to trust me. Don’t let go of me, not even for a split second.”

She searched his eyes for any uncertainty, but she found none. “I trust you.”

And she found that she truly meant it. She trusted him regardless of her missing memories.

He tightened his grip on her, and without warning, he shadowstepped. At first, she saw the change rather than feeling it. It darkened as if the sun’s flame had died, throwing her back into the night's embrace, and she was lost. Lost in the dark,in the otherworldly experience of manipulating space to their desire, August’s warm body was her tether to reality. A heavy and oddly viscous blanket wrapped around her, tightening with every passing moment until she cried out in pain. Her whimpers died, replaced by wheezes as it choked her. She fought every instinct that told her to rip at the fabric on her throat, because doing so would require her to let go of her anchor. As she lost consciousness, the fabric disappeared, and she gasped for air.

Her knees gave out on her, and August caught her, helping her to the ground.Burning. Her throat was on fire, and nausea hit like a viper. She threw up her breakfast. August held her hair up, rubbing circles on her back until she stopped vomiting.

“Would you like me to soothe your throat?” he asked.

“Yes,” she croaked through tears.