The triplets felt it like a punch to the gut—that sudden, violent severing of the mate bond. One moment it was there, warm and pulling like a cosmic fishing line, and the next?
Snap.
Gone. Just a hollow ache in their chests, like someone had reached inside and scooped out a chunk of their hearts with a rusty spoon.
"WHAT THE HECK?! Where did it go?! It was RIGHT THERE! I was about to follow it! I had a PLAN!"
"The pull... it just disappeared. Poof. Gone. This doesn't make sense! Fated mates don't just—vanish! They're not a bad cell signal! You don't just lose them in a tunnel!"
It wasn't just Caesar and Caelian who were panicking, even Caelus, the fortress of stoicism, felt his composure crack. His face an unreadable mask of stone, but his eyes were darting back and forth like a man trying to solve a Rubik's cube while the building was on fire.
What does this mean? Is our fated mate dead? Did someone kill her? Did she spontaneously combust? Is that even possible?
