Because he’s worth waiting for.
And maybe—just maybe—I’m finally brave enough to believe I’m worth choosing too.
9
TORIN
Isaid I’d rather drown. I’ve never told a bigger lie.
I stay on my side of the grotto because crossing that distance would mean admitting I was wrong. Would mean facing the truth I can feel pulsing through the bond with every heartbeat—that I don’t want to drown. I want to live. I want her.
But wanting has always been dangerous.
The bioluminescent moss casts shifting shadows across Zara’s face as she settles against the far wall. She’s trying to sleep, I think. Or at least pretending to. Her breathing is too controlled, too deliberate. She’s as awake as I am, feeling the same ache where the bond stretches between us.
I told her I’d rather die than accept this. And she looked at me with those amber eyes and saw right through me.
“You’re lying,” she said. Not angry. Not accusing. Just observing the truth I couldn’t hide.
She’s right. I am lying. To her. To myself. To the memory of everything I thought I was before she fell from the sky and shattered my carefully constructed world.
The bond pulses with pain—a physical ache in my chest that has nothing to do with the sealed wound on my arm. This is whatrejection feels like. What denying what we are does to us both. The connection doesn’t disappear when I refuse to acknowledge it. It just hurts.
I close my eyes and try to sleep. Try to pretend morning will bring clarity. Try to believe I made the right choice by pushing her away.
But all I can think about is the kiss.
The way she tasted like thunderstorms. The way her lightning danced across my scales and felt like coming home. The way every carefully built wall I’d constructed came crashing down the moment her lips touched mine.
And the look on her face when I pulled away. Not just hurt. Understanding. Like she knew I was running from the best thing that ever happened to me and was willing to let me run until I found my way back.
How is she so brave?
I think of Mira. She was brave too. Brave enough to dream about the sky when everyone told her to stay in the deep. Brave enough to risk everything for a glimpse of something more. Brave enough to keep reaching even when reaching killed her.
What would she think of me now? Cowering in a cave, too afraid to reach for what I want because I might change. Might become someone different. Might lose the identity I’ve clung to like armor against a world that keeps taking things from me.
She’d be ashamed. She’d tell me to stop being an idiot. She’d probably hit me and tell me the sky is right there, waiting, and all I have to do is be brave enough to reach.
Gods, I miss her.
And gods, I’m tired of being afraid.
I open my eyes and look at Zara. Really look at her. She’s beautiful in the moss-light—all golden skin and dark hair and the subtle glow of suppressed lightning beneath her skin. She came here alone to prove herself. Fell from the sky and nearlydied. Let me bind her, drag her through tunnels that terrified her, trusted me when she had every reason not to.
She’s the bravest person I’ve ever met. And she chose me.
The bond knows what I’m about to do before I consciously decide. It hums with anticipation as I push to my feet. Trembles with hope as I cross the grotto. Settles into something warm and right as I kneel beside her.
Her eyes open. She doesn’t look surprised.
“I lied,” I say. The words come out rough. Raw. True. “I don’t want to drown.”
“I know.” Her voice is gentle. Patient. Everything I don’t deserve.
“I’m terrified.” The confession spills out like water through a broken dam. “I’m terrified of losing myself. Of becoming someone I don’t recognize. Of caring about you more than I care about duty, about honor, about everything I’ve spent my life believing matters.” I reach for her hand, and she lets me take it. Lightning sparks at the contact, warm and welcoming. “But I’m more terrified of pushing you away. Of spending the rest of my life wondering what we could have been if I’d just been brave enough to reach.”
She sits up slowly, her amber eyes never leaving mine. “So reach.”
