We were still in the kitchen with Syrin’s arm wrapped around me when the front door opened. Mom stepped inside with two overstuffed grocery bags, keys still dangling from her fingers. “I’m back—”

  She stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes landed on me first, then on Syrin. Then on the glowing cuffs linking my wrists.

  And stayed there.

  She inhaled through her nose. Slowly. Like she wasn’t angry—yet—but the fuse had appeared and she was counting down from ten. “Explain,” she said.

  Syrin shot away from me, leaning against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up. “It—it’s not punitive! It’s for safety! We just—”

  “Why,” Mom said, “is my daughter handcuffed with magic?”

  I held my hands up, the chain glowing faintly. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “Oh good,” Mom said dryly, “because what it looks like is that I left you two alone for one hour and came back to find we’ve entered the fantasy-police-arrest kink chapter of our lives.”

  “Mom!” I yelped, mortified.

  Syrin made a choking sound and went instantly silver.

  Mom sighed and set the grocery bags down on the table. “Okay. Start talking before I assume the worst.”

  Syrin swallowed. “Trina touched the Nightbound yesterday. Then today when she…” He cut off entirely, like he couldn’t say the word kiss in front of my mother.

  “I… held her,” Syrin said, like he was constructing some Jenga tower that would probably come crashing down.

  Oh, lights. He had no idea how much worse that sounded than just saying kissed. But Mom wouldn't really care, and honestly? His frantic corrections were hilarious and kind of adorable, so I stayed silent.

  Mom raised her eyebrows.

  Syrin scrambled to correct. “Just… appropriately. Trina called it cuddling? Nothing untoward! But when I touched her, I felt the shadow infection.” His voice evened out, becoming more confident. “I needed a way to keep the Light from… attacking her unintentionally. The cuffs route the reaction through the chain instead of through fire. They don’t restrict her. They only activate when I panic.”

  Mom stared at him for a long moment. “Okay.”

  Syrin stepped forward hesitantly, as if Mom were a hippo that he had to approach. “I… I need to check you for infection.”

  “Alright,” Mom said. Her voice didn’t even shake. “As long as it doesn’t involve cuddling.”

  Syrin went bright red, and for a second, he looked like he would scramble back again.

  Mom sighed. “You can check. What exactly do you need?”

  Syrin didn’t move, completely frozen now.

  “I’m not mad, Syrin. You and Trina can cuddle if you want, but I will tease you about it. That’s just part of life here.”

  Something in his shoulders relaxed, and he glanced between us like he was shocked Mom hadn’t decided to maul him.

  “Checking for infection?” Mom reminded.

  Syrin took a very long breath and straightened. “I just need your arm,” Syrin said, voice brisk as he entered healer mode.

  She held it out. Light coated Syrin’s fingers, and he took her arm gently like he was doing something sacred. Golden light seeped from his fingers, sweeping up her arm until it encased it. Mom twitched, sucking in a sharp breath.

  “Yours is shallow,” he murmured finally, relief softening his posture. “On the surface. Not rooted. I can clear it quickly.”

  “Trina’s?” Mom asked.

  “Trina’s is… not. It’s deeper, rooted enough to be a true infection.” Syrin’s voice trembled for a moment, and I stiffened.

  Mom froze. “Can you remove it?”

  Syrin let out a long breath. “Yours, yes. Trina’s…” He glanced at me. “Not here. The shadow dug in. It’s delicate if we want to avoid permanent effects.”

  Mom nodded once, not panicked, but bracing. “Alright. That makes sense. It’s been years, but I remember shadow infection working deeper when the contact is prolonged.”

  Syrin raised an eyebrow. “You had contact with the Nightbound before?”

  She shook her head. “Not me, Torrik. And I wasn’t there. Just a secondhand account.”

  Syrin nodded. “He mentioned that when we were traveling. It was the reason he became friends with my father.”

  “Wait. Dad got infected?”

  Syrin hummed. “Yes. It was years ago. He came to the tower for healing. He’d uncovered an infestation of Nightbound. A shadow mage moving into our lands. My father went with him to cleanse it.”

  I blinked. How had I never heard that story?

  “Yes,” Mom said softly. “It was a long time ago.” Then she straightened, all business again. “You said you could fix mine?”

  “Yes. It should be a simple procedure, though it may still hurt. With Trina… The connection to the Light is too unstable. I don’t want to attempt anything until we get back to Kirath. A mistake could kill her.”

  “That complicates things,” Mom said. “She won’t be able to hear all our plans.”

  My head jerked up. “Wait—what?”

  Syrin eyes lowered, shoulders curling slightly. “The Nightbound can listen through the infection. Not perfectly, but enough that anything sensitive becomes a risk.”

  “Seriously?” I snapped. “I’m just supposed to walk into this blindly?”

  The cuffs warmed and drew slightly taut, like Syrin’s fear spiked at my anger.

  I glared at him.

  The tension on the cuffs immediately loosened. “Sorry,” Syrin said quickly. “Instinct. It wasn’t intentional. But yes, for all our sakes, you must be… not blind, but information limited.”

  “‘Information limited’ sounds like a euphemism for blind,” I shot back.

  “Blind people are not incapable,” Syrin said. “You have both me and your mother.”

  “Yes, but isn’t what we are doing super dangerous!?”

  Syrin grimaced. “We can’t avoid telling you some things. If you can deduce it, so can they. It’s not complete secrecy, Trina.”

  I glared at him. “So what is it then?”

  “We can’t hide that we’re leaving,” he said slowly. “You already know about the portal to the tower, but routes, timing, names… those matter.”

  “They might matter to me too.”

  Syrin nodded slowly. “It’s a tradeoff. Just… let me think about it. Perhaps, I can block the connection somehow. It was always easier to simply get rid of it, but that might be possible.”

  I didn’t like it, but dying on the other side wasn’t better. I gave Syrin a tiny nod.

  He let out a relieved breath.

  Mom held out her arm again. “Let’s get this over with then.”

  Syrin flinched. “Not… not yet. Your infection is more shallow, but my connection with the Light is still unstable here. I need to meditate first.”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  “Meditate?” I asked. Everything he’d done before seemed almost instinctive.

  Syrin hummed. “I can’t afford for the connection to slip. You can think of it like trying to… pull the Light toward me? I have to get a grip on it first.”

  Mom bit her lip. “Don’t pull too hard.”

  Syrin froze. “Why?”

  Mom leaned back against the counter. “Well, that’s actually my proposed solution to return. The Nightbound used your connection to the Light to travel here…”

  Syrin’s glow flickered, bronze first, but then it bled to gold. He let out a long, relieved breath. “You think we might be able to reverse the connection to pull us back,” Syrin said.

  “Yes,” Mom said. “We’ll have to stabilize your connection, and we need some sort of tether to keep Trina and me anchored to you, but it might be a solution.”

  I looked back and forth between them. “That sounds a lot more dangerous than the portal.”

  “It is,” Syrin murmured.

  “So… how is that better?”

  “Because it would take us directly to the Tower in Crithlinor,” Syrin said quietly. “No assassins waiting on the road. No traveling through Talnor. No week-long trek across Crithnon to reach the capital. We would arrive where I’m needed most.”

  Mom nodded. “Exactly. I think it’s worth the risk.”

  Syrin turned to me. “Can I use your room?”

  I stared at him. Why would he want—

  “To meditate?” he clarified.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, shaking myself. “That’s fine.”

  Syrin gave me a brisk nod, his hand brushing mine for a moment as he left the kitchen. I couldn’t hold back a shiver as the cuffs warmed slightly. He wouldn’t have done that before our earlier conversation. Guess he was taking the dating thing seriously.

  Mom just watched me for a couple of seconds. “Guess our zoo antics had a bit of a price.”

  I shivered. “Yeah.”

  Mom stepped forward, gently taking my wrist as she examined one of the cuffs. “These are so strange.”

  I let out a short, barked laugh. They were strange. I still couldn’t tell if they were made entirely of light or partially metal. “It’s even weirder to be wearing them,” I said, trying to break the tension.

  Mom frowned and looked up at me carefully. “You okay, honey?”

  Was I okay? Syrin had told me I would turn into a Nightbound if he didn’t heal me, and I was apparently going to take part in a dangerous plan that I couldn’t know the details of, but sure. I was just dandy.

  “It’s okay if the answer is no,” Mom said softly.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Just worried. Syrin said he can fix it. I believe him.”

  Mom let out a hum that probably meant she didn’t quite believe me, but would let me continue on with my delusions. “Want some tea?”

  I let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

  She gave me a weak smile. “Seems our whole family has been shadow infected at this point. What an achievement.”

  I grimaced. “Not one that I was hoping for.”

  “No,” Mom agreed.

  “You good?” I asked quietly.

  She gave the smallest of shrugs. “Hungry.”

  I nodded. Then we both got to work. It was a familiar rhythm. I reheated some leftovers for her while she set the kettle to boil. Then she went through the shopping bags, putting things away or setting out the stuff to dye Syrin’s hair. Minutes later, I had a steaming teacup in my hand, and Mom was digging into some lasagna from yesterday.

  I settled at the table across from her. “Mom?”

  “Yeah, honey?” she said without looking up, buttering a piece of leftover French bread.

  “Back at the zoo… when you fought that shadow wolf.” I fiddled with my teacup. “Those weren’t half-remembered moves from Kirath. You’ve been training.”

  She finally glanced up. “I always train, honey. What do you think I do at the gym every week?”

  I blinked. “I don’t know. Treadmills? Weights? Normal-people gym things?”

  Mom snorted. “I do those too. But they don’t prepare you for drakelings. Kickboxing gets you closer. They used to have more martial arts options too.”

  I tightened my grip on my cup. “But… why?”

  Mom’s hand tightened on her fork. She stared at the lasagna on the end for a second and then put it down like this was far too serious for a bite.

  She stared at her plate for a long moment before lifting her eyes to me. “I wasn’t trying to go through a portal that first time, Trina. I was just out for a swim with my friend. And then I stumbled through that cave, and I wasn’t at the beach anymore. I was in Kirath.” Her jaw tightened. “I wasn’t prepared. Not even a little. And I almost died. More than once.”

  Her hands flattened on the table, like suddenly she needed its support. “I know it’s been years, but it still scares me.”

  I blinked. “But you know where the portal is now. I doubt one is just going to open next to you.”

  “Not that,” she said softly.

  “Then what?”

  She swallowed. “Being helpless.” Her fingers trembled slightly. When was the last time I’d seen Mom shake?

  “You’re the most capable person I know,” I whispered.

  She gave a small, almost broken laugh. “But what if I’m not enough, Trina? What if you were visiting your father and something happened? What if he wasn’t there—again—and it was up to me to protect you? Alone.”

  She looked down at her hands. “I promised myself I’d never be that helpless again. Not if your safety depended on me.”

  “Oh,” I said quietly.

  Mom nodded and went back to her lasagna, like she’d said as much as she could manage for now. I let the moment lapse and just sipped my tea. It was an herbal one. Lemon something, but it was calming.

  It reminded me of earlier this week, when Syrin had tried to make tea and set off every fire alarm in the house. My fingers tightened on my teacup. He’d thought he had control then, and the whole kitchen had vanished under a cloud of steam. What if something went wrong with healing Mom?

  I took a steadying breath, glancing at the kitchen door. He wouldn’t do that. Syrin was far too responsible to try something like this if he thought it would go badly. And when it had really mattered, he hadn’t failed.

  Trust. I just had to trust him.

  Maybe I should take a cue from Syrin. Maybe I needed to meditate too. It would probably be good for me.

  “Trina,” Mom said quietly.

  “Yeah?” I looked up. She’d cleared her plate and was twirling her fork between her fingers, but her eyes were on me.

  “It seems like you two came to some sort of… accord while I was gone. About your relationship.”

  I froze. “You could tell?”

  Mom rolled her eyes. “I walked in on him with his arm around you. Of course I could tell.”

  “We’re just… going to try it. Date. See where it goes.”

  Mom’s hands stilled, and the fork came to a stop. “Oh, honey…”

  I did not like that tone. “What? You told me to slow down. I did. I like Syrin, but I can’t make a decision like this before I’ve even seen Crithlinor. Maybe I’ll love it. Maybe I’ll hate it. We’ll go, and then I’ll decide.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Mom said softly. “And I’m proud of you for thinking this through. Just…” She exhaled. “Be careful. I’m not sure Syrin has a place in his head for a ‘temporary relationship.’ I don’t think he knows how to hold something like that lightly. He didn’t grow up with that, and it’s not in his nature.”

  My heart beat harder than it should. I wasn’t being reckless. I had thought this through. “Are you saying I should break it off now?”

  “No! I just want you to think, Trina. Go into this with your eyes open.” Mom was silent for a moment, like she was searching for the right words. “Going to Crithnon before deciding is wise. Just know that a kiss means something different to you than it does to him.”

  I flinched. “So, I shouldn’t kiss him?”

  Mom sighed. “That’s not what I’m trying to say either. Kissing isn’t wrong. Dating isn’t wrong. You just need to be aware that stepping closer will cost him much more than it will cost you if things end badly.”

  I bit my lip. “So, how am I supposed to choose? If I push him away now, it will hurt him too. Maybe I can stay. Isn’t it better to try?”

  Mom was silent for a long time. I folded my arms, waiting for judgment. Finally, she let out a long breath. “I don’t know the answer. If you think there is a real chance it could work, that there is a real chance you could stay, maybe it’s worth the risk. Just… take it with your eyes open.”

  I stared at the luminous cuffs on my wrists. I didn’t want to step away without even trying. That seemed wrong, but if I went down this path… What if Crithnon was all wrong for me? What if I couldn’t do it? Would I break him? Was the only choice now a wedding or for someone to suffer? That wasn’t fair.

  The cuffs pulsed faintly against my wrists; whatever Syrin was doing seemed to have some effect. It didn’t help. It just seemed like a metaphor for being shackled to fate. If this failed, was I doomed to choose between a life that didn’t fit me or leaving, just like Mom? I wasn’t her. Syrin wouldn’t abandon me, but… I also didn’t want to abandon myself along the way. I had needs too.

  My hands tightened on the teacup, trying to hold back the tears pricking my eyes. No, Mom was right. I was most like Dad. Was I promising Syrin something I couldn’t live with? Was I trapped between their choices, no matter what I did?

  “Trina,” Mom said softly. “I can see you panicking.”

  “I… is my only choice now to be lucky and love Crithnon or break him? I don’t know if I can stay if it’s wrong for me, and if I did… I’d be miserable. That doesn’t seem better.”

  Mom crossed her arms. “No. Syrin isn’t glass, Trina. He lost his mother, his sister, potentially his father—”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “Wait. He told you about his sister?”

  Mom gave me an amused look. “We talked once while you were sleeping. I told him I wasn’t happy that he was lying to you.”

  I blinked. Mom… Mom and Syrin had a whole relationship. They’d had conversations without me. How had I missed that?

  Mom watched me carefully, and then said softly. “I’m getting to know him. That’s one reason I don’t want him hurt, but you leaving won’t break him. He was laughing at the zoo earlier, after his sister. After assassins. After all that loss.”

  I traced along one of the cuffs. It was true. That was kind of miraculous, wasn’t it?

  “He’s hurting,” Mom continued, “but he’s not shattered. He’s learned how to deal with loss. That boy is much stronger than you are giving him credit for, and thinking he’ll break is doing him a disservice.”

  I winced. Maybe I’d gotten a little too wrapped up in myself, but it was hard. How was I supposed to balance all this? It seemed impossible. And loss was still loss. It hurt no matter how strong you were.

  I twisted my fingers around the teacup to keep my hands from shaking. “It’ll still hurt if I leave,” I whispered.

  Mom nodded. “Yes, but the thing that hurt me most was your father making an oath, and then breaking it. He promised, he married me, and then threw that promise away. It was the lies that hurt most.”

  I sucked in a breath. “So what do I do?”

  “You be truthful,” Mom said. “That’s how you avoid doing what your father did to me. You don’t make commitments until you think you can be happy with them. Not just him, with the life that being with him requires. You just need to be truthful with him. It’s okay to give him hope, but false hope would be cruel.”

  I swallowed, throat tight. Before I could answer, soft footsteps sounded in the hallway. Mom and I went still as the door eased open.

  Syrin stepped into the kitchen, his glow settled into a low, steady gold. It was the calmest I’d seen him since the zoo. He paused at the threshold. “Am I… interrupting?”

  “No,” I said quickly, wiping the emotion from my voice. “We were just talking about… family things.”

  He nodded once, eyes flicking to the cuffs, then back to me. “In that case,” he said quietly, “I am ready.”

  Mom and I exchanged a look. She let out a sharp breath, and it hit me that she was far more nervous about this than she’d ever let on. It would all be okay… right?

  I looked back at Syrin. My panic must have been obvious, because his face softened immediately. “I can do this, Trina. You don’t need to worry. I wouldn’t try if I wasn’t certain.”

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  Mom’s voice was steady. “Where do you want me?”

  Looks like we were really doing this, whether I was ready or not.