(GILBERT'S POV)
I did not know if it was the mate bond, pulling at me, making me miss him. I did not know if the wanting was mine or the Moon's. And I understood, in that moment, that I did not care. It did not matter. Every road led to the same place: I missed him so badly that it hurt, a physical, animal hurt that lived under my ribs and sat on my chest and made it hard to breathe. I missed him the way a person misses light in a cave. I missed him, and I had pushed him away, and if I died here I would die with his name unfinished in my mouth.
So I reached out.
I knew Vera had said it — she had told us all, sweetly, savagely, that her god had cut every thread that tied us to the outside world. No mind links. No calls for help. No one coming. But I reached out anyway, because when you are dying you stop being rational and start being a person again.
'Jasper,' I sent. 'Jasper, can you hear me? Please. Please, just once. Let me hear your voice once before I go.'
Nothing.
