His grip was not crushing, but desperate—like if he loosened it even slightly, she might vanish again. She felt the tremors in his hands, the hitched breaths he tried to disguise. The way his heartbeat still galloped beneath the thin layer of calm he wore.
She brushed her fingers over the back of his hand. “Nythir,” she murmured. “Look at me.”
It took a moment.
When he lifted his head, she saw a crack in him—thin, hairline, but devastating. His eyes were red-rimmed, the silver still smoldering under the surface of his skin.
He opened his mouth, closed it, tried again.
“I thought—” His voice broke. He swallowed hard. “Essie, I thought I was going to walk into this room and find—”
His throat closed.
Her own heart squeezed painfully. She touched his cheek.
“You didn’t,” she whispered. “I’m here.”
“That’s not—” He shook his head and a single tear slipped free. He didn’t even seem to notice it. “That’s not enough explanation for what I felt. For what I—” A strangled exhale slipped from him. “I’ve lost people before. Too many. I know what it feels like when the world goes quiet. And I thought—stars, Essie—I thought the quiet was waiting for me on the other side of that door.”
Esther’s chest twisted.
She had seen many versions of Nythir—gentle, protective, furious, tender—but she had never seen him like this.
Unmasked.
Unsteady.
Barely holding himself together.
He breathed in through his teeth. “When I saw him holding that dagger to you—when I saw blood—I thought…” His voice crumpled. “I thought I was breaking.”
Esther slid her hands up to cup his face fully. “Nythir. You didn’t break.”
“I did.” His breath shuddered. “Inside, I did. But I couldn’t— not in front of you—not while he still had you. I had to stay standing. I had to stay angry. Because if I didn’t…” He shut his eyes like he was frightened of what he’d see. “I don’t know if I would’ve been able to move at all.”
Something inside her softened and shattered all at once.
She pulled him forward until his forehead rested against hers.
“You can break now,” she whispered. “You don’t have to be strong for me anymore.”
His breath caught on a stutter. He bowed his head just slightly, as if his whole body sagged under the weight of relief.
And then, quietly—barely audible—
“Essie, I can’t lose you. Not you. Not ever.”
“You won’t.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him closer. “I’m here. I’m alive. I’m not going anywhere.”
That was all it took.
His arms tightened around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His breath shook in her hair. His shoulders trembled.
Nythir—strong, calm, composed Nythir—finally broke.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
