Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
Celeste felt as though the room had shrunk, pressing in around her, the weight of Nathaniel's words settling deep in her chest. A soul bond. The idea itself felt impossible—like something pulled from the pages of a myth. And yet, wasn't that exactly what her life had become?
Amelia was the first to break the silence.
"That's—" She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "That's not a solution. That's—" She stopped, exhaling sharply. "That's insane."
Nathaniel remained impassive. "It's the only way."
Amelia's jaw tightened. "So you're saying the only way to keep Celeste from disappearing is—what? To tie her to something permanent? To someone permanent?" Her voice wavered, frustration and disbelief tangled together.
Nathaniel's expression remained unreadable. "Yes."
Celeste swallowed. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she forced herself to speak. "How does it work?"
Nathaniel's gaze flickered to her. He studied her for a long moment, as if weighing whether she was truly ready for the answer. Then, finally, he spoke.
"A soul bond is more than a contract," he said. "It's a connection at the most fundamental level. It fuses two existences together—one acting as the anchor, the other as the tether. The more unbreakable the bond, the harder it is for anything—or anyone—to sever it." His gaze sharpened. "If you forge one, Celeste, it will make you real in a way that can't be undone."
Celeste's hands curled into fists against her lap. Real. The word was a promise, a lifeline, a flicker of hope in the storm. But there was something else beneath it—something dangerous.
Amelia's voice was careful when she spoke. "And what's the price?"
Nathaniel hesitated. "There's no undoing it. No loophole. If you bond with someone, it's permanent. You will always be connected to them."
The air in the room shifted.
Celeste could feel Amelia stiffen beside her, feel the weight of the unspoken words between them. Because there was only one person in this room who could be her anchor. One person who had always been her gravity, even before she understood why.
Amelia was staring at Nathaniel like he had just given her a death sentence.
"Are you saying I have to—" She stopped herself, her expression unreadable.
Nathaniel didn't blink. "You're the strongest bond she has to this world."
Celeste's throat tightened. She looked at Amelia, searching her face for something—anything—but Amelia's expression was locked in a battle between emotions she wasn't ready to name.
"I can't force you," Celeste said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Amelia exhaled sharply. "I know that."
Silence.
Nathaniel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "This isn't about romance, Amelia. This is about survival."
Amelia snapped her gaze to him, something sharp and raw in her eyes. "Don't tell me what this is about."
Celeste flinched at the heat in her voice. Amelia wasn't angry at Nathaniel. Not really. She was angry at the situation. At the unfairness of it. At the fact that she was being asked—no, expected—to make an impossible choice.
A choice that could never be undone.
Amelia turned away, hands on her hips, exhaling hard. She was thinking. Celeste could see it, the way her mind was moving too fast for her body to keep up.
Celeste forced herself to find her voice. "If you don't want to do this—"
"I didn't say that." Amelia's voice was sharp, cutting off Celeste's words before they could settle.
Celeste's breath caught.
Amelia turned to her, eyes burning with something she couldn't quite name. "I just—I need to think." She let out another unsteady breath, shaking her head. "This isn't something I can decide in the span of a conversation."
Nathaniel nodded. "Then you need to decide fast. Because they're not going to wait."
The room fell into silence again, the weight of the decision pressing down on them all.
Celeste closed her eyes.
She could feel it. The clock is ticking down. The inevitability of what was coming.
And deep down, she already knew.
No matter how much Amelia fought it—no matter how much she wrestled with the fear of what it meant—there was no choice.
Because Amelia had already made it a long time ago.