“You know,” he said suddenly, voice light, “I really struck out with the two of you. Is there a triplet hiding somewhere I don’t know about? Maybe third time’s the charm.”
His playful tone snapped me out of the spiral. A soft laugh escaped me. He grinned and started laughing too—something real and full. It was contagious. In seconds, we were both caught in a fit of laughter, shoulders shaking, the sound echoing into the storm.
For a moment, there was nothing but rain and reckless joy.
As our laughter faded into the sound of falling rain, I let the words slip free. “It’s too bad my mask broke,” I murmured. “Wearing it made me feel like a queen. I guess that’s why I kept it in my pocket for the trip home.”
Shayde didn’t answer right away, but I felt the weight of his gaze on me.
“I come here when it rains,” I continued, voice soft. “Because I love watching the water pool in the mountain’s hollow. Once it rises high enough, the rain dances across the surface. Even when I’m not channeling, it always seems to rain when I need it most. It’s nature in its purest form. Untouched. Untamed. It steals my breath every time.”
He inhaled slowly, as if he had something to say—but then he let it go. Instead, he asked, “So are we screaming or dancing?”
My brows pulled together. “What?”
“In the rain,” he clarified, nodding toward the open air where droplets had begun to ripple across the shallow basin.
I considered it, a smile tugging at my lips. “What if it’s a little of both?”
Without hesitation, Shayde crawled out from under the narrow stone ledge and stepped into the forming pool. Rain soaked him instantly, slicking his hair to his forehead. He turned and heldout a hand. “Then do me the honor of screaming and dancing in the rain with me.”
I slipped my hand into his, calloused fingers meeting mine. He helped me to my feet, guiding me into the heart of the water. The icy rain welcomed me like a secret only we shared, landing on my flushed cheeks with the gentlest kiss. The water rippled around our boots.
His hand never left mine. Then he lifted it, holding it in the air as his other settled at the small of my back. I followed, resting my free hand on his shoulder.
Then we danced, the patter of rain our only melody. The shallow water splashed in time with our steps, echoing our rhythm back to the storm. When Shayde twirled me, a graceful wave followed our movement, rippling outward like a curtain of silver. As our momentum built, he spun me through a flurry of quick turns; the water rising and falling in sync. The dance was a masterpiece of motion, the element dancing with us like it, too, wanted to remember the moment.
The rain soaked us—hair, skin, leathers—until we were dripping with it. But I didn’t care. Neither did he.
Shayde swept me into his arms, cradling me sideways as he turned us in a wide arc across the shallow pool. My legs floated weightlessly, fanned out by the motion, my body fully in his control. It was a move the soiree in Tyria never would’ve had room for—too bold, too free.
When he pulled me back into his arms, our chests were heaving. Shayde’s arm stayed firm around my lower back, keeping me suspended just high enough that we were eye level. My arms looped around his neck, and my boots dangled freely.
Raindrops streamed from the strands of hair clinging to his face. We shared a look—full of things only the two of us would ever understand. Slowly, his hand lifted to cup my cheek, warm and steady despite the chill.
Our mouths inched closer. Breath by breath. Moment by moment. Then—
A flash of lightning. A crack of thunder.
And just like that, the moment slipped through our fingers.
Chapter 58
I was finishing sheathing my weapons when a knock came at the door.
I unlatched it and pulled it open. “Wylder. Aren’t you supposed to be in the skies by now?” I asked, slipping the last dagger into place.
“Leaving now,” he said, holding out a bow and quiver. “These were hanging on your door. But I wanted to check on something first.”
The gravity in his gray eyes told me this wasn’t a casual conversation. Whatever he needed to say—he didn’t want ears on it. I stepped aside, letting him in, and took the bow and quiver from him. I gave them a quick once-over as he spoke.
“Were you able to channel through yourmarekemwhat we learned from my mother in the Glade?”
I considered the question before nodding. “Yeah. I’m caught up.”
His gaze sharpened. “Are you sure? We won’t get another chance to talk once Tyria reaches Mageia. They’ll be looking for the Tomb and the full prophecy.”
My fingers traced the smooth curve of the bow. “Yes, Wylder. I have the entire prophecy committed to memory. Your mother sealed the only full record of it in her cellar—Tyria won’t be able to reach it. And you already know only Scarlet and I can enter the Tomb. It’s safe.”
