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"I should probably get back soon," I say reluctantly as Raith walks me through the shadowed corridor toward the water tower. There’s a hush through the academy as night falls. Tomorrow is our last day before the Crucible. "The others wanted to meet at midnight. I might try to catch a little sleep before, since tonight may be a late night.”

I feel his eyes on me. "Because of the weapons sabotage.”

I nod. "We only have a small window when Malakai's guards will be away from the cache.”

"And your part in this plan?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral though I can feel his concern seeping through our connection.

"Typhon and I will help Mireen's elemental rust the metal from the inside. Create weak points that will snap under pressure when they try to use them," I explain. "Beck's creating a diversion with some flooding in the courtyard while Brunhild stands lookout."

A muscle in his jaw ticks, and through our tether, I feel his worry for me mingling with admiration. "It's risky. If Malakai catches any of you?—"

"He'll try to kill us. Yeah. But he’s going to try to kill us during the Crucible, too. If we do this, we will be protecting others. We’ll be giving them a chance of surviving, however small, if Malakai’s people come for them. So, no, you’re not talking me out of it. Don’t even try.”

He studies me for a long moment, then sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. "Has anyone ever told you you're incredibly stubborn?"

A small smile that tugs at my lips. "You may have mentioned it before.”

Raith's eyes don't leave mine as he seems to come to a decision. "Midnight. That means we still have a couple hours.”

"A couple hours for what," I ask, my pulse quickening at the hunger of his gaze.

"Good," he says, his voice dropping to that low register that makes heat pool low in my belly. "Because I've been thinking."

"What about?" I ask, though I suspect I already know the answer.

His fingers brush mine, sending that familiar spark of magic between us. "We've both been training hard today. I feel pretty filthy."

"Okay," I manage, despite the sudden dryness of my throat. It's not what he's saying, it's how he's saying it. It's the way his eyes are practically devouring me.

"Come on. We can get cleaned up together." His hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers. "Follow me."

"Where are we going?"

"Showers. You waters have the best ones. I use them after hours when nobody's there. They'll be empty at this hour."

My heartbeat races so fast it feels more like one solid, uninterrupted beat by now. Gods, is this really about to happen?

We descend into a dimly lit chamber. Moonlight drifts in through narrow windows, casting silver streaks across the large circular pool in the center. Above it, enchanted clouds hover near the ceiling, permanently drizzling room temperature water into the bathing pools. There are wet footprints on the stone like others were here not long ago, but I see no signs of movement in the pools.

"We're alone," Raith says, his voice echoing slightly in the empty space. He pulls the latch over the door with a half smile. “Just in case.”

“If you’re about to turn into a siphon, I’m going to be super, super pissed with you.”

Raith shakes his head. “Sexy bear.”

“Good,” I say, smirking at the silly passcode.

He moves closer, something in his expression making me forget to breathe. There's a vulnerability there I rarely see—a crack in the careful armor he maintains.

"What is it?" I ask softly.

He moves to the edge of the pool and holds his hand out, palm upward. A small flame dances across his fingers, illuminating his face with a golden glow. A miniature reflection of the flames is mirrored in his eyes as he watches the spell.

"I dream about you," he says suddenly, the flame in his hand flickering higher. "Not just... wanting you. I've been having dreams. Your memories, I think."

My heart stutters. "What?"

"The tether, I assume. He takes a deep breath. "I saw the storm, Nessa. The one that took your father and brothers."

Ice fills my veins, and I step back, nearly stumbling on the slick stone floor. "You saw that?"

Jolts of ugly panic shoot through me.

He knows. He knows what I did. He knows I failed my own family and got them killed. He knows I'm?—

"Hey," Raith's voice is soft as he releases his spell to cup my face and shake his head. "I can feel what you're thinking. And no. I felt it. The fear. The rain. The waves crashing against the cliffs. The thunder you couldn't control."

My throat tightens. I feel naked already, more exposed than if I had shed all my clothes.

"You think I'm a monster," I whisper, the words barely audible even to my own ears. I feel the power inside me churning and reaching out into the room. The normally silent clouds above the bathing pool rumble with the low sound of thunder.

Raith's eyes never leave mine. "No," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "I think you were a child who didn't understand her power." He reaches for me, fingers brushing my cheek with unexpected tenderness. "It wasn't your fault, Nessa."

I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me retreat. "You don't know?—"

"I saw it all," he insists, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheekbone. "The storm started before you even realized what was happening. You tried to stop it. You did everything you could."

"I could've done more."

"I was in your head, Nessa. I saw it with my own eyes. You swam in those waters for hours. You kept diving for them long after you knew there was no way they were alive. You kept going until you passed out and the waves carried you back to shore. Fuck, Nessa. You did more than most would do. Nobody could blame you."

"My mom and sister did."

The thunder above the pool rumbles again, deep and heavy.

He winces, but resolve hardens his features a moment later. "They didn't see what I saw. It wasn't. Your. Fault. Do you hear me, Nessa? It wasn't your fault. They didn't forgive you? That's their failure."

Something breaks inside me—a dam I've built around my grief and guilt. My eyes burn with tears I've refused to shed for years. "They died because of me. Because I couldn't control it."

"They died because of a storm," he says firmly. "Because of powers you didn't understand and couldn't control. You were a child. Trust me, I know about blame. About living with ghosts. About carrying that weight—wondering if there was more you could've done. Walking yourself through it countless times searching for the one thing you could've changed about that day."

Through our tether, I feel the truth of his words—the understanding, the acceptance. It's overwhelming. But beneath it lies something else, something he's not saying aloud.

"Listen to me, Nessa. Running from ghosts is no way to live. Do it long enough, and you become a ghost yourself. All we have is right now. Here. We can't change the past, but we can use it to find strength. So don't run from your past. Use it. Grow from it. Because I need you to be strong. I can't fucking lose you, too. Losing you… it would fucking ruin me."

The admission hangs between us, raw and honest. I reach up, covering his hands with mine where they still cradle my face.

"I don't want to lose you, either," I whisper, leaning into his touch.

He studies me for a long moment, searching for hesitation, for doubt. Finding none, he nods. His mouth finds mine with unerring accuracy, and the kiss is one without any semblance of control. Just raw need and desperate relief. My arms wrap around his neck as he pulls me flush against him, his body radiating the heat I've come to crave.

We stumble closer to the pool, stepping down into the waters until it soaks our boots and pants up to the calf. The rain drifting down on us is warmer now, drenching our clothes and running down between our hungry kisses.

I feel his power flowing into me, fire essence filling my veins, but it's no longer about siphoning his magic. It's about connection—about giving and taking in equal measure. For the first time, I feel myself giving something back to him, a whisper of my own essence flowing into his body, making him shudder against me.

"Wait," he murmurs against my lips, pulling back just enough to gesture toward the clouds above the pool. The gentle warm rain droplets still hit the water with soft plinking sounds. But now steam rises immediately.

I feel its perfect heat on my skin. Not so hot that it hurts, but hot enough to soothe away aches and make me want to curl into him forever—just like this.

"Too hot?" he asks.

"No,” I say, looking straight into his eyes until I feel like I’m swimming in their molten heat. “It’s perfect.” I can feel the magic within me shifting as the thunder stops, but the downpour of rain picks up, falling on us in thicker and thicker sheets. I lean in for more kisses, but he presses a fingertip to my chin, making me pause as he stares into my eyes.

"I remember the first time I saw you." His finger traces the line of my jaw, then drifts back to my lower lip, exploring it slowly as if the world will stand still for us—as if we have all the time we could ever want here. "I heard you were a volunteer. Assumed that meant you were an Empire fanatic like Serena. I wanted to hate you for it, but I still knew I wanted you, even if I didn't admit it. I was scared to want you, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. Worrying about you. Trying to make sure you didn't get killed, but it turned out you were pretty good at watching your own back."

I laugh softly. "I've had a lot of help."

"People want to help you because they see what you are," he says, gaze intensifying. "Your strength. Your determination. Your intelligence." His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. "Your stubborn refusal to die when people want you to."

The words bring unexpected heat to my cheeks. "Is that what really attracted you to me? My stubborn streak?"

A hint of a smile touches his lips. "That. And this..." He kisses me again, deeper, his tongue sliding against mine. "And this." His hand skims down my side, over the curve of my hip to cup my ass greedily, pulling my body up and into his.

I arch into his touch as a moan slips from my lips.

"Let me see you," he says, his voice rough with desire.

My fingers tremble as I reach for the clasp of my uniform and slip out of my boots, clothing, shoes, socks, and underwear already completely soaked as we stand up to our claves in the pool, rain cascading down on us.

His eyes track every movement, darkening as I slowly undo each fastening of my clothing. The black fabric falls away, leaving me in just my underclothes—simple cotton, nothing fancy, but the way he looks at me makes me feel wrapped in silk.

Raith's breath catches. "Nessa."

Just my name, but the way he says it—like a prayer, like salvation—makes me braver. I remove the rest of my clothing until I stand before him completely bare, the rain drenching me as a slight drift of steam rises from the water around me. Water droplets catch on my eyelashes, slide down my collarbone, trail between my breasts.

His gaze scorches me, traveling from my face to my breasts, down to the curve of my hips, the juncture of my thighs. He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing.

"Your turn," I whisper.

He doesn't hesitate. His uniform joins mine on the stone floor, revealing a body sculpted by training and battle, touched with dozens of hidden scars I want to trace with my fingers and ask about in some future, sleepy morning where death isn’t breathing down our necks.

I don’t breathe as I drink in the sight of him. I can’t breathe.

Broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips, strong thighs dusted with dark hair, and thick muscle layered beneath tanned skin.

His arousal is evident, thick and hard, and I allow myself to stare, to want without shame. Through the tether, I feel his mix of desire and barely checked restraint—a heady combination that makes my knees weak.

The water is pleasantly warm, growing hotter around him until it's almost like a bath. Rain continues to fall from the enchanted clouds, catching in his dark hair, sliding down his face, trailing over the defined muscles of his chest.

The edges of the bathing pools are shallow enough that the water only reaches waist-height. In the center, it's deep enough to fully submerge yourself.

"Come here," he says, pulling me through the water until our bodies meet, skin against slick skin.

I gasp at the contact, at the hardness of him pressing against my bare skin. His hands settle on my waist, his grip firm and wonderfully possessive. He touches me like a present he can barely wait to unwrap and enjoy, and gods… I just want to fall apart in his hands, to ride the wave of his kisses to the perfect bliss I know lays at the end of that path.

"I've thought about this," he confesses, his lips trailing along my jaw, down my neck. "About you. Like this. Wet. Wanting me." His teeth graze my pulse point, drawing a shiver from me. "Have you thought about it too?"

"Yes," I admit, my head falling back as his mouth works its way lower. "More than I should."

"Tell me," he urges, his hands sliding up my sides to cup my breasts. His thumbs brush over my nipples, making me gasp. "What did you imagine?"

Heat blooms in my cheeks that has nothing to do with his fire magic. "Your hands," I whisper. "Your mouth. The way they'd feel on me."

"Like this?" He bends to take one peaked nipple between his lips, the wet heat of his mouth drawing a moan from deep in my throat. His tongue circles, teases, while his thumb mimics the motion on my other breast.

"Yes," I breathe, my hands finding his shoulders, nails digging into hard muscle. "Just like that."

He takes his time, lavishing attention on my breasts until I'm squirming against him, desperate for more. The water swirls around us, heated by his power until it nearly bubbles, steam rising to mingle with the falling rain.

His mouth travels lower, marking a path of kisses down my stomach. The position forces him to kneel in the pool, water lapping at his chest. He looks up at me, his eyes molten gold in the dim light.

"I want to taste you," he says, hands sliding to the backs of my thighs.

The request makes my pulse skyrocket. I nod, unable to form words past the desire clogging my throat.

He guides one of my legs over his shoulder, then lifts the other, easily holding me as he guides my back to rest carefully on the edge of the pool.

"You're even more perfect than I'd imagined," he says, hot breath tickling my inner thighs as he kisses his way up a devastating path toward my waiting heat.

The warm rain trickles down intimately against my most sensitive flesh, but it's nothing compared to the first touch of his tongue. I cry out, hands flying to his hair to anchor myself as pleasure bolts through me.

"Raith," I gasp, my head falling back and my body digging against the rounded edge of the bathing pool.

He groans as if he's enjoying this more than I am, and the vibration of his voice only adds to the sensation. His hands grip my hips, keeping me steady as he explores with lips and tongue, learning what makes me moan, what makes me tremble. Through our tether, I feel his own arousal building with every sound I make, every shudder he draws from me.

The echo of his emotions is... interesting.

I feel hints of what he's feeling. I sense just how deeply he's enjoying this and how much I turn him on. I've never felt so fucking wanted.

The rain falls harder in response to my rising emotions, droplets sluicing down my heated skin. When he finds that perfect spot, circling it with relentless precision, my knees buckle. If he wasn't holding me so tightly, I would sink down and melt beneath the waters.

"I'm close," I warn, my voice breaking. "Too close. I want?—"

He pulls back, his eyes meeting mine, lips glistening. "What do you want, Nessa? Tell me."

"You," I manage, tugging at his shoulders. "Inside me. Please."

His hands slide to my ass, lifting me effortlessly in the water. I wrap my legs around his waist, gasping as the position brings his hardness against my core.

"You're sure?" he asks, searching my face. "We can wait. Do this properly, after the Crucible, when we have time?—"

I silence him with a kiss, pouring everything I feel into it—the want, the need, the fear that there might not be an after. When I pull back, his eyes are blazing.

"I need this," I tell him. "I need you. Now."

His hands shift, one moving to support my lower back, the other positioning himself at my entrance. "Look at me," he commands softly.

I open my eyes, meeting his golden gaze. The vulnerability there matches my own—the fear of loss, the desperate need for connection, the knowledge that after tomorrow, everything could change. In this moment, we're just Raith and Nessa, stripped of all pretense, all armor.

"I need you to be sure," he says, his voice tight with restraint. "Because once I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

In answer, I reach between us, gripping his thickness in my hand and roll my hips forward, teasing him with my body. "I've never been more sure of anything."

Raith nods. “There’s a trick fires can use… a little heat in the right place and we’re sterile for a day or two.” I feel a flare of his magic in the air and his lips curve slightly.

I chew my lower lip. “Have you… used that trick before?”

“No. You’re the only one I’ve wanted since I stepped foot on this campus.”

His words are like music to me. I thread my fingers behind his neck, urging him closer, breath heavy on my lips. “Please. Fuck me, Raith.”

He groans at my words, sliding himself into me with agonizing patience. His eyes never leave mine, watching for any sign of discomfort. I can feel his emotions. His desires.

He wants to grip me tight and pound into me, fucking me until I scream. But he wants me to feel safe even more. He wants to make sure I’m comfortable. That I feel protected.

There's a brief stretch and burn as my body accommodates him, but it fades quickly into pleasure so intense it takes my breath away.

"You're so warm in me," I gasp. "It feels so good, Raith."

"Gods," he breathes, his forehead resting against mine once he's fully seated within me. "You feel... incredible."

I roll my hips experimentally, drawing a hiss from between his clenched teeth. His hands tighten on my thighs, his fingers digging into my flesh. A devious part of me wants to unleash the beast I feel within him—the beast that wants to fuck me so hard everyone in this wing of the academy will hear my screams.

"Don't move," he warns, his voice strained. "Not yet. I need a moment or this will be over embarrassingly fast."

I smile, oddly pleased by his admission. I press kisses to his jaw, his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath my lips. "Been a while?"

"It's never felt like this," he confesses, his eyes meeting mine again. "Never this intense."

The tether between us pulses, growing stronger with our physical connection. I feel echoes of his pleasure mingling with my own, creating a feedback loop of sensation that threatens to overwhelm us both. I can feel his thick heat filling me and stretching my walls, and... I can also feel a hint of my own walls squeezing against his heat, as if I'm feeling this from every possible angle.

"I can feel you," I whisper, awed. "Not just physically. I can feel your pleasure."

His eyes widen slightly. "I feel yours too. It's..." He shakes his head, words failing him.

When he finally begins to move, it's with controlled, measured strokes that make the water lap gently against the pool's edge. He watches me carefully and slowly zeroes in on the exact rhythm and spot that drives me absolutely wild with pleasure.

"More," I urge, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Faster."

Thunder rumbles overhead again and the clouds twist, churning with increased speed.

"Patience," he murmurs against my throat, but he complies, increasing his pace slightly. Each thrust sends water splashing, the gentle sounds mixing with our ragged breathing.

He walks us backward until my spine meets the edge of the pool again. The position gives him better leverage, and he uses it to grind against me, creating delicious friction where I need it most.

"Raith," I gasp, my head falling back against the stone edge.

I feel his struggle for control, his desire to let go warring with his need to make this last. It's intoxicating, knowing how much he wants me, how hard he's fighting to hold back.

"You're so beautiful like this," he says, his voice roughened with need. His hand cradles my face, turning it so I meet his gaze. "Flushed. Breathless. Taking me deeper."

The words send a fresh wave of heat through me. I tighten my legs around his waist, drawing him impossibly closer. "I want all of you," I tell him. "Don't hold back. Not with me."

Thunder cracks from the magical clouds and the rain grows thicker, pouring down harder around us until the steam rising from the water blots out everything but his face. His eyes.

Something flares in his eyes—a wild hunger I've only glimpsed before. "Be careful what you wish for, Nessa."

The rain falling in heavy sheets that plaster my hair to my face, to my neck. Water in the pool around us begins to move with more purpose, following the rhythm of our bodies, responding to my rising pleasure. I can feel myself drawing water essence unconsciously, making the pool swirl and eddy around us, feeding the clouds above until they swirl and churn, pouring water in a deluge that flickers with white light.

His movements grow deeper, more forceful, each thrust hitting a spot inside me that sends sparks shooting up my spine. I cling to him, hands grasping at his shoulders, his back, anywhere I can reach. The tether between us throbs in time with our bodies, channeling his pleasure to me and mine to him, amplifying everything.

"Tell me what you need," he pants against my ear, his hands gripping my hips tightly enough to bruise. "I want to feel you come apart."

"You. You're all I need," I manage, my voice breaking as he shifts angles slightly, hitting even deeper.

He maintains the perfect rhythm, the perfect depth. Water splashes around us, steam billowing as his fire essence responds to his passion.

Raith's pace increases, his thrusts deeper, harder, driving me toward a peak I can already feel building. The water around us bubbles with his heat, adding to the dreamlike quality of everything.

"Touch yourself," he urges, his voice barely recognizable with need. "Let me see you come undone."

I slide a hand between us, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. The first touch makes me cry out, my inner walls clenching around him. Through the tether, I feel his reaction—a surge of pleasure so intense it nearly sends him over the edge.

"That's it," he encourages, his movements growing more erratic. "Let go, Nessa. I've got you."

The dual sensation of his hardness inside me and my fingers against my clit winds the tension higher and higher. Every nerve ending feels electrified, every stroke pushing me closer to the edge. The pressure builds until it's almost unbearable, a coiled spring ready to snap.

"Raith," I gasp, clinging to him with my free arm. "I'm going to?—"

"Yes," he hisses, his movements growing more urgent. "Come for me. Now."

My release crashes through me like a tidal wave, stealing my breath, my thoughts, leaving only sensation in its wake. My back arches, my head thrown back in abandon as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me. The tether between us magnifies everything, creating a barrage of ecstasy that seems endless.

Dimly, I'm aware of the water responding to my power, creating a vortex around us as if we're in the eye of a storm. But unlike the disaster of my childhood, this power is contained, controlled, never threatening to harm Raith or myself. Never out of control. Not this time.

Raith's rhythm falters as my inner walls pulse around him. With a hoarse shout, he follows me over the edge, his body tensing, his face buried in my neck as his cock throbs and pulses within me, filling me with a fresh wave of subtle warmth. Through the tether, I feel his release as if it were my own, triggering a second, smaller climax that leaves me trembling in his arms.

The water around us has reached near-boiling temperatures, his fire essence completely unchecked in the throes of passion. Steam fills the room, thick enough that I can hardly see anything at all. The rain continues to pour. Compared to the heat Raith is generating, it almost feels cool now.

For long moments, we stay tangled together, our hearts pounding in tandem, our foreheads pressed together. Neither of us speaks—there are no words adequate for what we've just shared. I can feel his wonder, his satisfaction, his lingering desire... and beneath it all, something deeper that neither of us is ready to name.

Finally, reluctantly, he eases me off him, keeping me close as we float in the cooling water. My legs feel boneless, my entire body liquid with satisfaction.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice rough.

I nod, too overwhelmed for words. I sense his concern, his fear that he might have hurt me or pushed too hard.

"I'm perfect," I reassure him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "That was..." I trail off, unable to find the right words.

"Yeah," he agrees, understanding completely. "It was."

The rain above us slows to a gentle drizzle, then stops entirely. The enchanted clouds disperse, leaving only moonlight to illuminate the room. I study his face in the silvery glow.

"I still feel bad I changed your scars," I admit, tracing where the scars used to knot and tangle his flesh and now they only cause it to ripple and shine. "They were part of you. Part of your story."

His expression softens. "They're still part of my story. But my story is changing, just like the scars did. Nothing is going to ever give me back what I lost. It hollowed part of me out. Left a void inside me I wasn’t sure I’d ever fill. But… then you happened.”

I smile. “I happened, huh?”

“Nessa Thorne. A force of fucking nature,” Raith says with a soft smile. “I tried not to fall for you, and your stubborn ass wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“I’m not sorry,” I say, planting a playful kiss on his neck. “Not even slightly.”

He considers this, his thumb tracing idle patterns on my shoulder. "Neither am I.”

The words feel significant, weighted with meaning beyond face value. I lean into him, drawing comfort from his solid presence, from the steady beat of his heart against my cheek.

His fingers trail through my wet hair, combing it away from my face with a tenderness that makes my chest ache. "When I saw into your memories," he says softly, "I felt something else. Something beneath the guilt and fear."

I tense slightly. "What?"

"Relief," he says, his voice careful. "Not at what happened—never that—but at finally having a reason to leave. To escape a life that felt too small for you."

The observation strikes so close to a truth I've never admitted, even to myself, that I feel exposed all over again. "How could you possibly?—"

"Because I felt the same way," he interrupts gently. "When my world burned down around me, there was grief, rage, horror... but underneath it all, a terrible freedom. The freedom to become someone else. Someone new. To break away from the path set for me."

I swallow hard, remembering what I've glimpsed of his past—the child destined to rule some distant land, the burning castle, the screams of his family.

"I wish there had been another way to make my own path,” I say.

"I know," he says, pressing his lips to my forehead. “But sometimes the universe gives us what we need in the cruelest ways possible."

We fall silent, the only sound the gentle lapping of water against the pool's edge. I think about his words, about the terrible truth in them. Perhaps we are both born of catastrophe, forged in tides and flames we never wanted but learned to harness nonetheless.

"I need you to know something," he says after a long silence, his voice low and serious.

I pull back slightly to look at him. "What?"

His hand cradles my face, thumb brushing my lower lip. "This wasn't just about wanting you. The sex, I mean. It's more than that. It has been for a while."

My heart clenches. It's not a declaration of love, not exactly, but coming from Raith—guarded, cautious Raith—it's monumental.

"For me too," I admit softly.

"I meant what I said earlier. I can't lose you too." His voice drops to a whisper. "I won't survive it."

I cover his hand with mine where it rests against my cheek. "You won't have to."

"Promise me," he says, suddenly fierce. "Promise me you'll be careful in the Crucible. That you won't take unnecessary risks."

"I promise," I tell him, though we both know it's a vow that may be impossible to keep. The Crucible is designed to test us to our limits, to push us into situations where death will be around every corner.

He kisses me again, deep and thorough, as if trying to memorize the taste of me. When he pulls away, his expression is serious.

"We should go," he says reluctantly. "Your friends will be waiting."

"There's one thing," I say. "Typhon told me our tether will fade over time because I only swore myself to you. At first... I thought that was a good thing. But if you wanted?—"

"What do I need to do?" He asks the question seriously and so suddenly it warms my heart. The idea of losing this connection scares him as much as it scares me.

“You’d need to swear an oath to me, just like I swore one to you.”

"Tell me what to say." His voice is fierce, and I can already feel how badly he wants this. "The tether helps me keep you safe. And now that I've felt this." He frowns, shaking his head. "Losing that piece of you. It already feels like a piece of me. I don't want it to go anywhere."

I nod, understanding completely. "The oath should come from your heart. Something you mean. Just like when you swore an oath to Pyrin.”

I wait, heart pounding as I watch him think. It's only a moment before he speaks.

"I'll protect you. No matter the cost. No matter the battle. No matter fucking what. I'll be there to keep you safe. Always. Forever. That's my oath."

His words ignite a warmth in my chest that grows so hot it nearly burns. I feel something snapping into place, like the fragile thread between us is pulsing and growing thicker.

I close my eyes and smile. "Okay. Yeah. I'm pretty sure that worked."

"Good." He runs a fingertip down my cheek. "I mean it, Nessa. Before you... I was fighting for revenge. It was only anger pushing me forward. Grief. Regret. But you've given me something I didn't have. Something that matters. And I'll do anything to protect that. To protect you."

I kiss him deeply, wishing we never had to leave these waters and this moment. It feels like a perfect bubble of time, a memory I know I'll revisit as long as I live, and yet I know reality is pressing in on us. Time runs on, and our survival might depend on how we spend these next hours before the Crucible.

Neither of us needs to say it. We both know, and we exit the pool, water streaming from our bodies. Raith flares his power briefly, creating a wave of heat that dries us almost instantly. The sensation of warm air rushing over my damp skin makes me shiver.

We dress in comfortable silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other. I feel different somehow—lighter, as if sharing this intimacy has lifted some of the weight I've carried for so long. The guilt over my family's deaths hasn't disappeared, but it's been acknowledged, brought into the light where it can't fester in darkness.

"Our elementals just watched that entire thing... didn't they?" I ask suddenly, the thought occurring to me with mortifying clarity.

A rare, full smile breaks across Raith's face. "I assume so, though Pyrin says he's been trying to give us privacy. In his own way."

" I busied myself with other things, angry human,” Typhon assures me.

As we prepare to leave, Raith catches me by the waist, pulling me against him for one last kiss. It's gentle, sweet, a stark contrast to the desperate passion of before.

"Whatever happens in the Crucible," he murmurs against my lips, "remember what you are. What you're capable of. You don't need to hide your power—you need to embrace it."

"I'm afraid of what happens if I lose control," I admit.

"You won't," he says with absolute certainty. "Not this time. Not ever again." His forehead rests against mine. "I believe in you, Nessa. It's time you believed in yourself."

The words settle into me, a balm for old wounds I've carried too long.

"Survive," he murmurs, pressing one last kiss to my lips. "Whatever it takes. And after..."

"After," I agree, understanding the promise in those words.

We slip from the washing chamber, making our way through darkened corridors toward the water common room where my friends await. For the first time since arriving at Confluence, I feel something dangerously close to hope.

Because no matter what tomorrow brings, I have tonight. I have this moment. I have him.

And maybe I'm finally beginning to have myself too—not the broken, guilt-ridden girl who arrived at Confluence expecting to die, but the woman I'm becoming. The woman who might, against all odds, not just survive, but thrive.