The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 74

Elder Thora nodded once, decisively. “Guards,” she said. “Escort her from the room, ensure she receives counsel and medical attention. We will handle the rest.”

Two Council guards who had been waiting in the corridor stepped in. They moved carefully, not cruelly, and with practiced hands guided Sarai up. The maid’s shoulders shook with fresh sobs as she allowed herself to be led away, Talon and Toren following a pace behind her that could have been protective or possessive — maybe both.

When the door finally clicked shut, the room felt different, emptied of something dangerous but filled with its aftermath. Tyson stared at the place where she had knelt, a tightness in his eyes I didn’t want to name.

Toren turned to me then, eyes raw and gold-tinged, and for a moment, he looked on the edge of falling apart. He reached for my hand and squeezed it once, hard.

“You did good,” he said, voice breaking. “You were brave.”

I wanted to believe him. I needed to.

But as the air settled, the questions that had been creeping at the edges — who ordered this, how deep Lucas’s reach was, what cost would come next — pressed closer. Elder Thora’s expression hardened. She looked at us all, a slow, deliberate gravity reclaiming her features.

“This will not stand,” she said. “Not now. Not ever. We begin the inquiries at dawn.”

Tyson’s head snapped up at that, eyes wild. He wanted action; he wanted retribution; it showed in the rawness around his mouth. But something inside him had shifted—enough that he did not move to follow the first bitter instinct.

For a heartbeat, I looked at all three of them—Toren, Talon, and Tyson—and realized something strange.

The chaos that filled the room bowed beneath me. Not in fear, but in obedience.

I hadn’t spoken. I hadn’t even moved. But I felt it—like a pull through invisible threads, an authority humming deep in my blood.

Was it the bond? Was it because they were mine—or I was theirs?

I didn’t know. But I wanted to.

As Elder Thora turned toward the door, I found my voice. “Wait—Elder Thora, can I speak with you? Alone?”

Her steps paused. She turned slowly, measuring me with that sharp, ageless gaze that seemed to see right through bone and breath alike. “Make it quick,” she said softly.

I nodded.

The others didn’t argue, though I could feel their unease. I waited until the guards disappeared down the hall with Sarai before gently closing the door. It did nothing to comfort me; the bond still pulsed with their presence. Even with the wood and silence between us, I could sense their awareness—like heat, alive and alert.

Elder Thora crossed her arms. “What troubles you, child?”

“I want to know more,” I said quickly. “About the bond. Between me and them. How it actually works. Because I can feel them all the time, and I thought it would be… different.”

The words tumbled out faster than I could contain them. “It’s not just emotional—it’s physical. When they feel anger, I feel it burn. When they’re near, it’s like pressure under my skin. But I just figured there’d be… more. Some clarity. Some control.”

Elder Thora’s lips curved in the faintest smile, a mixture of pity and amusement. “Slow down, child,” she murmured. “You are newly bound to not one mate, but three. It will take time for the connections to settle. You are feeling the bond’s raw edges, not its unity.”

“Unity?” I echoed.

She nodded. “Right now, your energy threads to each of them separately. You feel the dissonance. Once you accept their bonds completely, they will merge—becoming one current, not three conflicting ones.”

I frowned. “Accept them? How? You mean—like… physically, or—”

Elder Thora chuckled quietly. “Acceptance is not always of the flesh, though that helps.” Her eyes glittered knowingly, making my cheeks flush. “It’s the heart that seals it, the spirit that binds it. For each mate, it is different. The bond will tell you what it needs when you are ready to listen.”

Twisting my fingers together, I asked, “So, you’re saying I’ll just know? That the bond will… talk to me?”

“In a way, yes.” She reached out, taking my hand between her calloused palms. Her touch was steady, grounding. “You have been given something rare, Kira. Something ancient. Shadow bloodlines were never meant for the faint of heart. You carry three connections where most would crumble under one. You must learn to balance them—or they will consume you.”

Her words hit like a weight to the chest. “And if I can’t?”

Elder Thora’s expression softened just enough to make me ache. “Then the bond will choose for you. And that is never merciful.”

The silence that followed stretched, heavy and uncertain. I searched her face, hoping for answers, guidance—anything more than riddles.

“How do I even start?” I whispered. “How do I… accept them?”

She studied me for a long time, her gaze unreadable. Then she sighed, releasing my hand. “That is something only you will know when the time comes. Each bond is different. Each acceptance, unique. I cannot tell you how to love them, or how to belong to them.” She gave my fingers a final squeeze. “But I can tell you this: when it happens, you will feel it in your soul—and it will change everything.”

The elevator door shut behind her, and I stood there in the silence she left behind. My chest felt too tight for breath, my thoughts too heavy for clarity.

I could still feel all three bonds humming inside me—Toren’s steady flame, Talon’s sharp edge, Tyson’s dark storm. They were mine. I was theirs.

But how was I supposed to hold all of that and still be me?

I sank to the floor, pressing my hands to my chest as if I could quiet the thrum beneath my skin. For a moment, I thought I could hear them faintly through the connection—Toren’s concern, Talon’s restlessness, Tyson’s restraint.

All of it blends together like a song half-finished.

And I whispered into the empty air, “How do I choose what to feel, when they all feel like home?”