Bonds

Chapter Six

~Maya’s POV~

Natalia’s voice, muffled through the phone, jolted me out of a daze. “You really think he did it?” Her words felt like sandpaper against my raw nerves.

I let out a sigh, “I don’t know,” the confession scraping my throat, “But think of it, Natalia. If I were to bomb a place, why would I leave evidence that it was me on the bomb?”

“Exactly!” Natalia’s sharp tone crackled through the receiver. “My thoughts exactly. But still, he’s the only one with a motive to stop the wedding. Maybe he realized what he lost.”

I shook my head, the gesture echoing the hollowness inside me, “I looked into his eyes. The Alex that loved me… I didn’t see that man anymore. There was anger, yes, but also a stranger, someone consumed by something I couldn’t understand.”

A beat of silence hung between us, thick with unspoken doubts. “So maybe it was his way of making good on that threat. Maybe this was his way of showing Everton that he means to really go to war with your father.”

“And my father, of course, couldn’t help but blame me,” I muttered, bitterness lacing my voice.

“When are you going to stand up—?” Shebegan, her question hanging in the air.

“No, Natalia, please don’t,” I interrupted, my voice laced with a plea. “I did that once, and it ended with my heart in pieces. That fire…” I choked back a sob, the memory a barbed wire twisting in my gut. “It’s gone.”

“Amaya…” Her voice was laced with concern, reaching across the miles to wrap around me in a virtual hug.

I clutched the phone tighter, “It’s gone,” I repeated.

Silence followed as I stared at myself in the mirror. A stranger stared back, her eyes dull with pain, her lips drawn in a tight line of resignation.

fog. “Amaya…” she began, her tone softer now, filled with understanding. “It’s not about the fire, darling. It’s about the embers. They’re still there, glowing under the ashes. You just need

Natalia, bless her bluntness, knew me too

the explosion. Daniel, of course, is already planning a redo of the wedding since I, apparently, need to finish my vows. A smaller one this time,

with disapproval. I knew she wanted to cuss out my father but

we ditch the dust and debris of today and paint the

forming on my lips. “It’s past

eyes I knew would be dancing in her eyes, “You are a grown woman, not a porcelain doll to be shelved at his will. I know it’s easier to just comply, to shrink into the shadow he casts, but damn it, Maya, that’s not you. I miss the girl who could stare down a rogue wolf and laugh in his face. I miss the firebrand who started a rebellion in college because a professor misquoted Nietzsche. I miss the you that wouldn’t back down from anything, the you that punched Nathan in the

the gut, jolting me out of my

wiping the tears that threatened to

chirped, her excitement infectious. “Big Shot, it’s called, and rumor has it they have

about Nathan and Ivy?” I

a night to forget the bomb, the broken vows, the piece of shit that broke your heart. Plus, I have this new outfit that practically screams ‘watch me dance,’ and you wouldn’t want to deny me the

warrior goddess on fire, and meet me by the back gate in ten minutes. We’re painting the town ruby red,

bubbling up from a place I thought had been buried under the rubble of the day. The Natalia Rant, as she affectionately called it, had a way of doing that, of stripping away the self-doubt and reminding

on a breath of newfound

voice

there’s dancing. Lots and lots

laughter echoing down the hallway. “Tonight, my friend, we dance like there’s

life in my eyes, chasing away the shadows of fear and resignation. The girl who punched Nathan in the face and defied her father wasn’t dead, she was simply hibernating. And tonight, Natalia

burning cheeks. My heart hammered in my chest, a wild hummingbird trapped in a cage of nerves and excitement. There she was, Natalia, silhouetted against the streetlamp, arms crossed and lips pursed

you long enough, Rapunzel,” she teased, her voice a familiar melody in the symphony of the

collar of my leather jacket tighter against

through my flimsy excuse. “The alpha throwing

I denied, though the lie tasted bitter on

“I get it,” she said, “It’s been a hell of a

a balm to my bruised spirit. I let out a shaky laugh, feeling the

mischievous glint in her eyes. “Now, about that