OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: OF FRACTURES, FIELD ORDERS, AND THE GIRL WHO

"The doctor's just one. Can't accommodate all of us. So I figured... might as well wait for my boyfriend."

She said it like it was normal. Like I wasn't five seconds away from collapsing into a thousand pieces and handing her each shard with a please.

I stared at her, unsure if I wanted to reprimand her or fall into her arms and never come back up.

"I'm still mad, you know."

My voice cracked a little—not with emotion, but with tension. She didn't know how close I'd come to losing it back there.

"With who? Your council or my Court?"

"Both," I muttered. "Especially you, though. Because–-"

Because I saw a bruise forming beneath your vest. Because I saw your fingers twitch like you were fighting a ghost. Because I saw you dive into chaos like it was home.

"—I scared you?" she offered.

I clenched my jaw.

Because yes. Because she shouldn't have had to.

"That was supposed to be a normal manhunt game," I said. My voice didn't waver-but my insides did. "You staged it like you were in a warzone."

She just smiled. That Ardent smile. That royal smile.

"Because that's how the Court moves. Dramatic and theatrical."

Of course. The Court. Always with their performance. I didn't mean to let it out, but the question slipped through anyway—quiet, almost fragile.

And the question I didn't want to ask came out. My voice came out quiet.

"You said... you don't hear his heartbeat."

I meant Xythe. I didn't say his name. I didn't have to. And when she looked at me—no flinch, no guilt, just calm—I didn't even feel angry.

Just... unsure. Like I was seeing half of a story she didn't know how to finish. "Then why do I see a web of eight different heartbeats connecting to yours?"

She didn't answer. Not right away. Instead, she exhaled—slow and steady like it hurt to hold in.

"Crown Protocol," She said. Of course."I can't tell anyone unless my cousin, Lyle, says so."

I didn't move. Didn't look away. I couldn't. Because deep down, I already knew—whatever it was, I couldn't touch it. Couldn't challenge it. Couldn't stop it.

"But if you're Saichel," She added quietly, "you can say anything. Because no one ever believes him anyway."

My chest tightened at that. Like somehow she was trying to soften the blow by making it absurd. But she wasn't lying.

"Actually... those threads? They're mostly for simulation battles. Or things the Headmasters ask the Ardent Court to handle."

She bit her lip, hesitating again. "But for everyday, it's just Xythe and Saichel. Connected to my ring."

She lifted her pinky. There it was—faint, but glowing. That pulse. The link. A heartbeat I couldn't hear.

I didn't say anything.

Didn't argue. Couldn't. Crown Protocol. Ardent immunity. She was part of something beyond my reach. And I hated that—hated how powerless it made me feel.

So I did the only thing I could. I stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.

Tight. Unshaken. The kind that said what words couldn't. That maybe—just maybe—stitched something broken back together.