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River felt like she was floating on a cloud as she stepped out of the taxi in front of her parents’ house.

Not even the fact that she was returning to Waterborn House wearing the same dress as yesterday could ruin her mood. Her mother had tried calling earlier, but River let the call go to voicemail. She didn’t need Tertia ruining the amazing way she felt.

The way Nikhail had made her feel.

He was… everything. Being with him last night and waking up in his arms this morning had been better than any dream she’d ever had. She hadn’t been afflicted by a single nightmare, hadn’t dreamed of a single scream or crashing wave or impending storm.

It wasn’t just the fact that he’d given her the best orgasms of her entire life—although that had certainly been a high point.

It was the fact that Nikhail had gone to such great lengths to take care of her.

No one had ever done that for her; no one had ever made her feel like her needs were as important as theirs .

And it had been… incredible.

Her magic had been quiet this morning, humming softly in her veins. As if it, too, was at peace.

River paid the taxi, keeping her coat wrapped around herself as she bounded up the steps. The clawfoot tub in her bathroom was calling her name, and she was already dreaming of the bubble bath she would take.

She would enjoy every second of her tiny vacation because she didn’t think Doctor Collins would let her have another one for a long time after this.

That thought should’ve upset her, but it didn’t.

She’d spent the taxi ride planning ways to spend time with Nik back in Lakewater.

They could get to know each other more deeply, away from the watchful eyes of her family.

Daydreams of watching sports games on the couch when she was off, of sleepovers, dates, and movie marathons, occupied her so thoroughly that she didn’t notice the shift in the air at first.

No, it wasn’t until she’d taken off her scarf and bounded halfway up the stairs that she registered that something was wrong. The air, which had been filled with the steady hum of hospital equipment for nearly two decades, was silent.

There were no beeps, no whines, no whirring. There was nothing at all, except for a low, ragged sound that was so foreign, River didn’t recognize it at first. She stood on the stairs, her fingers clenched, as she listened intently.

Several seconds passed before she heard it again, coming from the east wing. Her father’s wing. A keening sob filled the air, the low sound as sharp as any dagger.

No .

No, no, no, no, no.

For the longest moment, River stood there, frozen in the grips of time. Even her magic seemed to hold its breath, trying to understand what was happening.

Maybe it was in her head. Maybe she hadn’t heard it. Maybe this was a dream, and she was still in Nikhail’s arms, and she’d wake up and everything would be okay.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

There were so many maybes swirling through her mind that she remained there, a statue on the stairs, until another sob ripped through the air.

And this time…

This time, River knew it was real. It wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She slipped her phone into her pocket, her fingers trembling.

That sound…

Her mother was crying, and if she was here and not at the disaster Nikhail had been called to, if she was sobbing and the hospital machines had been turned off…

River’s arms fell slack at her sides. Her purse fell, sliding down the stairs. There came a clatter as her keys tumbled out of her bag, but she didn’t bother to turn around and pick them up. She raced up the stairs and turned left, running as fast as she could.

She ran and ran until she got to her father’s room, where she skidded to a stop. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her eyes burned as she gripped the doorframe with white-knuckled hands.

“No,” she breathed.

How could this be happening? She’d been here last night before leaving with Nikhail, and her father had been fine. His vitals had been steady, the nurses had been looking after him, and his heart had been beating on its own.

But now …

Now, Cyrus’s empty eyes were staring at the ceiling, his hands were folded over his stomach, and all the machines were off. Tertia had thrown herself over his body, her hands were gripping his shoulders, and she was sobbing .

River stared into the room, took in her father’s lifeless eyes, and shuddered. For the first time in years, she didn’t use her mother’s given name. She didn’t look at the Representative, wondering why she hated her.

She just whispered, “Mom?”

The word felt foreign on her tongue, nearly as foreign as the sound of her mother’s grief.

Her mother lifted her head, and tears streamed down her face. For a moment, her eyes were devoid of the hatred they usually held, of the anger, cruelty, and malice River had gotten used to. For a moment, they were nothing but pools of deep-seated grief.

The Representative opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her eyes slid to Cyrus, and she lifted a shaking hand.

“Mom?” River asked again, her voice trembling.

Pinching her lips together, Tertia slid her fingers over Cyrus’s eyes, closing his lids. Her hand rested on his cheek for a long moment, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry, River.” And gods help her, but it sounded like she was telling the truth. Like she meant it. Like Tertia was actually sorry, like she really did care that this… that Cyrus was….

River’s fingers tightened on the doorframe, and wood cracked beneath her fingers. “When?”

It was the only word that she could say, the only word that could make it past her lips.

When did this happen? When did he…

Die .

The word hovered on the tip of River’s tongue, swirling around in her brain, but she couldn’t say it.

If she did, if she acknowledged what she saw, what her medically trained brain already understood, it would mean that the only parent who loved her was gone, and she hadn’t even been here to say goodbye.

Her knees trembled, and she clutched the doorframe, trying to stay upright.

Oh, gods. She’d been with Nikhail, having the best night of her life, while her father died .

Had he suffered when the Stillness swept over him one final time, stealing his ability to live? Had he been awake and wondered where she was? Had he looked for his daughter in those final moments?

River had so many questions, and each one was worse than the last.

Tertia sucked in a breath, and the sound was like shattered glass. “An hour ago. I tried to call you.” But River had let it go to voicemail. “I called your brother, and he’s coming back, but…”

It was too late, because Cyrus was dead. He was dead, and River hadn’t been here.

A hand landed on River’s shoulder, and she spun around. Megan, her father’s nurse, was clutching her clipboard to her chest. Tears streaked down the nurse’s face, and she looked at River with pity.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Doctor Waterborn.”

River had said those words dozens of times. Sorry for your loss. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your loved one has passed away. I’ll say a prayer to Dyna for you.

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

But now …

Now the phrase took on an entirely new meaning. Megan didn’t have anything to be sorry for. She’d just been doing her job.

The nurse was in the clear.

River, on the other hand…

She shouldn’t have left. She should’ve stayed by Cyrus’s side all night long. Hadn’t she known? Hadn’t she felt like something was off for weeks? Ever since Mrs. Valois’s death, she’d been worried about her father.

And the one time she let herself go with Nikhail, the one time she had a night just for herself…

A roaring filled River’s ears, and it took several moments for her to realize that it was coming from within her. The peace from earlier was gone. Maybe it had never been there.

Her magic was no longer quiet, no longer slumbering. Now it was a powerful hurricane, thrashing against her will.

And she…

She had nothing left. She couldn’t stop it any more than she could bring her father back from death’s cold embrace.

A sob wrenched its way out of River’s throat as she turned and raced down the hallway. No one stopped her. At some point, she kicked off her heels. She ran down the hardwood floors in bare feet, the roaring never stopping, never letting up.

She half-raced, half-slid down the steps to the main floor, running, running, running.

“I’m sorry, Doctor Waterborn .”

Megan’s words echoed through River’s mind, over and over again, but they weren’t louder than the roaring.

Nothing was louder than the roaring.

She grabbed a set of keys hanging by the garage door, her vision blurring as she slipped into the driver’s seat of a black two-seater convertible .

This was her father’s car, and he…

He would never drive again.

Oh, gods. River mashed the button to open the garage door, and the moment the car could fit through the gap, tires screeched as she pulled out. She’d left her purse behind, along with her license, but what did that matter?

She drove faster and faster, barely registering the white flakes falling on the windshield. The wipers pushed the snow out of the way, but nothing seemed to stop the tears leaking from her eyes.

This was her father’s car, and he was dead, and she…

She needed help.

She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going at first, just that she was going away . Waterborn House was on the outskirts of town, and she couldn’t stay there any longer. Couldn’t be in that place filled with her father’s memory.

He was gone .

A wretched sob ripped out of her.

She drove out of her parents’ gated community as quickly as she could. Rambling estates with pristine gardens passed in a blur, becoming strip malls and neighborhoods as she drove far too quickly on far too slippery a road.

Horns honked at her, but she barely heard them over the rushing in her ears.

Death battered in her veins.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, she slammed her finger against the car’s console. The vehicle was connected to her phone, a remnant of the last time she’d been in it, and she swiped through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for.

“Please pick up,” she moaned, passing a park with children playing on the swings. They were shrieking with joy. Laughing. Happy. Alive . “Please.”

Waves of magic pounded against her weakening dam, each more powerful than the last. Her stomach cramped, and the car swerved as grief overwhelmed her.

The phone kept ringing, and a ragged sob ripped through her. The waves crashed harder and harder and harder. Why weren’t they stopping?

Her mantra was long gone, vanished as if it had never existed.

Her control? Nonexistent.

Death had stolen them, along with her father.

River sobbed. She couldn’t get the image of Cyrus’s lifeless body out of her mind, and she couldn’t stop hearing the sound of her mother crying.

And then, the ringing stopped.

“Nik?” she whispered, gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled fingers. “Nik, I need?—”

“Hello, this is the voicemail of Nikhail Galebringer,” said an automated female voice. “He’s not available at the moment, but please leave your name and number, and he’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

There was a beep, and then…

“You promised,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You said it would be okay, Nik, but it isn’t.”

It would never be okay again.

She didn’t bother ending the call as she yanked the car off the road. She couldn’t. She left it running, throwing it into park before stumbling out the door. She barely registered the cold snow beneath her bare feet as grief raced through her.

It was too much .

The roaring was too loud, her heartache was too powerful, and the waves…

The waves collided with her dam, demolishing it. It wasn’t a slow break, nor was it one that could be easily repaired.

Her magic crashed in her veins, and River stopped trying to fight it. She fell to her knees as water poured from her hands. Hurricanes were less dangerous than her.

The sky blackened, and rain gushed from the heavens, matching the water she was sending into the world.

Even though she’d somehow driven herself to the edge of Golden City, even though there were people all around, even though she’d done everything in her power to prevent anything like this from ever happening again, River broke.

She shattered .

Her father was dead, Nikhail wasn’t picking up his phone, Ryker was gone, and she was alone .

She’d always be alone.

It turned out that even though she’d tried to trick herself into thinking that she could be normal, even though she’d gone to therapy and had mantras and a few stolen moments with Nikhail, she couldn’t escape the pull of her magic.

She was a bringer of death, and she’d been a fool for trying to escape her fate.

Sobs ripped through River as water cascaded all around her. Her storm came faster than ever before, washing away the snow. Shouts and cries filled the air, echoing the torment reverberating through her soul.

Nearby, death smiled, eagerly waiting for the souls she would gather for it. This was her fate. Her destiny.

River Waterborn was the Cursed One, and she would never be able to outrun her storm .

The End… For Now

Thank you for coming along with River and Nikhail for the First half of their journey.

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