Page 104 of River & Rue

She shakes her head and picks up her pace. Wisps of storm trail behind her, teasing my skin with electricity and my nose with ozone.

“You were right, dammit!”

My shout freezes her in place and shatters the forest’s seal of silence. The canopy sways and murmurs, birds trill, and the undergrowth flutters. Two brown rabbits hop onto the path in front of Rue. They look up at her for a long moment, noses twitching, then bound beneath a giant fern.

I halt a few feet from her back.

“You were right. I want more. I want you. What upset me was the rest of what you said. Hearing that you’ve mapped our ending when we’ve barely started really sucked. But I’ve had time to think about it. I know you’re scared. But I’m with you. We can do this together.”

She turns, lifting eyes of impenetrable ice.

“No,” I whisper. “Don’t lock yourself away. Please.”

“You think I’m scared. Of what, exactly? Having you break my heart?” She shakes her head. “You don’t get it. You can’t break what’s already broken.”

“You said⁠—”

“I know what I said. And I know what I didn’t say. You’re an amazing man, River, but this was never going anywhere. Even without our external complications, physical chemistry doesn’t equate to relationship potential.”

My teeth clench, trapping hurt disguised as an angry retort. I chew the urge until it’s gone, reminding myself this is what she does when she feels threatened—the clinical voice, the blank expression, the cold eyes. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. It means she cares more than she’s comfortable with.

Ivy warned me this wouldn’t be easy. Granny said if I wanted to save our tether, I had to be the first to stand unflinching in the depths of her chaos. She also said I needed to remind Rue who she is, and for once, the deeper meaning unveils itself without struggle.

I can’t remind Rue who she is without first reminding myself who I am.

Born during a historic ice storm, under a full moon that brought the highest tides in a century, I’ve carried the whims of the skies inside me my entire life. I don’t control the weather. I never have, and I’ve never wanted to. But I do feel it—just like I feel her. Summon the storm means fully embracing my gift. And my gift is to feel, witness, and surrender.

Releasing a measured breath, I take another step toward Rue. She tenses, eyes narrowing. Shards of ice batter me, but I welcome them.

“You know our chemistry isn’t just physical. It’s soul deep and always has been. I didn’t see it for too long, and I’m sorry for that. But now that I do…”

One more step brings me close enough to wrap my fingers around the thick base of her ponytail. I tug her head back. She gasps, spine bowing, eyes flaring. Ice fractures, melts, reforms again. Her winds roar in my ears.

“I’m not walking away from you, Rue St. James. Ever. I’ll follow you to hell if I have to. So run, hide, rage, fight, deny. Do whatever you need to do. I’m not afraid of the storm inside you. Unleash it. I. Want. In.”

She bares her teeth. “Red flags, much?”

My other hand finds a nylon strap. With a swift yank, her body falls flush to mine. At the feel of me against her stomach, a note of breathless need leaves her. Her peaked nipples tease my chest with each of her rapid breaths.

Thunder rolls, quaking us both.

I graze my cheek over hers. “How’s this for a red flag? I’ll give you three days, and then I’m sliding all of this”—I roll my hips languidly—“inside your sweet, needy cunt. I’m going to fuck you so slowly, for so long, that you’ll forget ever not belonging to me.”

A whimper caresses my ears. Her defenses flicker in and out of existence, her mind at war with what her body knows.

“River, we can’t…”

Hovering my lips an inch from hers, I stare into her eyes. They’re fully thawed now. Screaming gales of blue fire.

“You don’t have to be afraid. All that pain you keep locked inside, all your spinning winds and punishing rains—I was made to hold them. To hold you.”

Tears swell and escape the corners of her eyes. “I lied. I’m terrified. The girl who used to dream of someone like you died a long time ago. I… I don’t know how to believe in magic anymore. I don’t know if I can. What if I can’t? What if you get tired of waiting or you decide I’m not worth it?”

My heart burns and liquefies, pouring heat through my limbs.

“I’m not waiting, remember? I’m following where you lead. All I want is for you to feel safe enough to let me see all of you. Until then, I’ll dream for both of us. I’ll believe enough for both of us. And when you jump, I promise I’ll catch you.”

She swallows a sob, her nose scrunching. “You were definitely written by a woman.”