Page 25

CALLIE

T he second I hit the water, I know I’ve done something stupid.

Like, legendary levels of stupid.

The cold hits like knives. Pressure punches the breath out of me before I even kick once. My ears ring, the water shrieks, and somewhere beneath me, the lake groans like it’s being split in two.

But I don’t stop.

Can’t.

Not while I know he’s down here, somewhere in the dark, trying to die a hero without me.

Not on my watch.

I dive harder.

The spell pendant Hazel crafted burns against my chest. It's strung on the same leather cord I used to tie my first camp whistle. A little poetic. A little desperate.

The moment I pass the trench’s edge, the pressure triples.

My ribs scream.

My ears pop.

My vision tunnels.

But then, light.

Faint, at first.

Then stronger.

Silver-violet, like a heartbeat made visible.

It wraps around me, pulsing in rhythm with the charm, with him.

Because Ryder’s down there, pulling magic into the rift with both hands, bracing himself against forces no mortal should touch.

I see him.

His body hovers mid-current, arms outstretched, tendrils of power leaking from his skin like light from cracked stone.

He doesn’t see me.

Not yet.

He’s almost gone.

The magic’s eating him.

I scream his name, underwater, useless but I do it anyway.

And then I grab him.

My hand closes over his wrist just as the spell fires to life.

The pendant lights up like a flare. A shockwave of warmth slams into my spine and surges out like a tidal wave.

It reaches for him.

And he jerks.

His eyes snap open.

They lock on mine.

And gods, he sees me.

He tries to speak.

Can’t.

But I don’t need words.

I feel it through the spell.

The tether’s working.

We’re bound now, threaded together by a spell born of glitter, guts, and a girl too stubborn to let the world end without her boyfriend.

And just like that, the magic fights back.

The old rift magic hates what we are.

It coils around us like a storm made of teeth. Screams in my head. Shoves against the bond like it can tear me away.

But it can’t.

Because Hazel knew what she was doing.

And I did, too.

I reach for Ryder’s other hand.

He takes it.

Shaking. Bleeding magic.

But alive.

And suddenly, I’m not scared.

Not of this.

Not of what’s coming.

Because whatever happens, we’re tethered.

And I’m not letting go.

The moment his hand tightens around mine, the spell shifts.

It’s not just light now, it’s open.

And I fall into it.

Not the lake.

Not the pressure.

Something else.

Something deeper.

My eyes flutter shut without meaning to, and suddenly…

I’m not in the water.

I’m in him.

The first thing I see is cold.

Not this cold.

Childhood cold.

Snow through broken windowpanes. Ryder, small and furious, his fists balled in the corner of a cabin too big for how empty it feels.

His mother’s gone.

His father silent.

Just him and the roar of the wind outside and the weight of silence inside.

I feel his loneliness like it’s been sewn into my bones.

Then the scene shifts.

He’s older.

Teenager. Barefoot on the dock. Arms bleeding from runes burned too deep. His mentor yelling. Power flaring wild and wrong. A friend screaming from the shallows, bones shattered by an accident Ryder never meant to cause.

Guilt swallows me whole.

He didn’t run from his gift because he was weak.

He ran because he was good.

Because hurting someone, even by accident, shattered something sacred inside him.

And he never forgave himself for surviving it.

I see him as a child, training at night, alone, in secret. Failing again. Hating himself for it.

I see the moment he first saw Camp Lightring, not as a soldier, not as a protector, but as a home.

His first real home.

And then I see me.

The way he saw me the day I stumbled off that stolen paddleboard, glitter trailing behind me like sea foam. The burst of irritation in him. The way it burned straight into curiosity.

I feel every time I made him laugh.

Every time I scared him with how easily I got under his skin.

Every time we made love, warm and soft and passionate.

Our first kiss.

The way I glow in his eyes.

I feel the slow realization.

That I wasn’t a distraction.

I was the reason he wanted to live.

It hits so hard I can’t breathe.

My eyes snap open underwater, tears lost to the current.

He’s still there.

Still gripping my hand like the only anchor he has to the world.

Maybe it is.

His eyes search mine.

I nod.

You’re not alone, I mouth.

And then I press my forehead to his.

The rift screams.

But I don’t care.

Because I know now.

This man, the one who tried to carry the world alone, who buried his power out of fear, who let the lake define his worth.

He deserves saving.

He deserves love.

The pressure builds again.

The rift shrieks louder now, desperate, angry, furious that I’m still here.

Still holding him.

Still winning.

But my lungs, Gods, they’re burning.

I fight the panic rising up my throat.

I shake my head. My body jerks once, the involuntary, terrifying pull of reflex.

I need air.

Ryder sees it.

His eyes go wide.

Without a second of hesitation, he leans in and kisses me.

Not out of want.

Out of need.

His mouth meets mine and I feel it, a rush of warmth, of air , of him pressing breath into me like it’s my only lifeline.

Because it is.

My whole body trembles, eyes wide, hands still clutching his, as the tether pulses between us brighter than ever.

I breathe him in.

All of him.

And I realize, we’re still sinking.

But we’re doing it together.

And I believe he’s not going to let me drown.