But I can’t sleep. Not without him.
My body is here, unwinding in the water—but my heart is in that tent, waiting.
So instead, I swim. Lazy laps.
My hair fans out behind me like kelp in a tide pool, trailing silkily through the water.
I dive under, brush my fingertips along the smooth stone floor—and that's when I hear it.
BOOM.
BANG.
ROARRR!
The night explodes.
I shoot up like a missile, water cascading in sheets from my face.
My lungs seize.
My heart stalls.
And then I feel him.
Not see. Feel.
Thorne is here.
Or…something wearing Thorne’s fury like armor.
The air warps. Magic thickens until it’s syrup in my lungs.
I whirl toward the commotion—and freeze.
Inside Kael’s tent stands a monster.
Fifteen feet tall.
A skeletal colossus of fiery bone and molten obsidian.
Lava veins pulse like lightning beneath his ribcage.
Flames writhe around him, alive and hungry.
His sockets—no, Thorne’s eyes—blaze with twin infernos, so hot they leave the air rippling.
And he’s not just standing there.
He’s lunging.
“THORNE!” I scream—but it’s lost beneath the roar as he barrels toward Kael.
Kael barely manages to summon a geyser of water, shielding himself with a wet hiss and a string of profanities.
“I didn’t even go in! She asked to swim! Am I supposed to refuse the viyella of the Lord of Fire? Fuck’s sake, Thorne!”
“ROAAAAARRRR!”
