Page 178 of Unbound

I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me retreat. "You don't know?—"

"I saw it all," he insists, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheekbone. "The storm started before you even realized what was happening. You tried to stop it. You did everything you could."

"I could've done more."

"I was in your head, Nessa. I saw it with my own eyes. You swam in those waters for hours. You kept diving for them long after you knew there was no way they were alive. You kept going until you passed out and the waves carried you back to shore. Fuck, Nessa. You did more than most would do. Nobody could blame you."

"My mom and sister did."

The thunder above the pool rumbles again, deep and heavy.

He winces, but resolve hardens his features a moment later. "They didn't see what I saw.It wasn't. Your. Fault.Do you hear me, Nessa? It wasn't your fault. They didn't forgive you? That's their failure."

Something breaks inside me—a dam I've built around my grief and guilt. My eyes burn with tears I've refused to shed for years. "They died because of me. Because I couldn't control it."

"They died because of a storm," he says firmly. "Because of powers you didn't understand and couldn't control. You were a child. Trust me, I know about blame. About living with ghosts. About carrying that weight—wondering if there was more you could've done. Walking yourself through it countless times searching for the one thing you could've changed about that day."

Through our tether, I feel the truth of his words—the understanding, the acceptance. It's overwhelming. But beneath it lies something else, something he's not saying aloud.

"Listen to me, Nessa. Running from ghosts is no way to live. Do it long enough, and you become a ghost yourself. All we have is right now. Here. We can't change the past, but we can use it to find strength. So don't run from your past. Use it. Grow from it. Because I need you to be strong. I can't fucking lose you, too. Losing you… it would fucking ruin me."

The admission hangs between us, raw and honest. I reach up, covering his hands with mine where they still cradle my face.

"I don't want to lose you, either," I whisper, leaning into his touch.

He studies me for a long moment, searching for hesitation, for doubt. Finding none, he nods. His mouth finds mine with unerring accuracy, and the kiss is one without any semblance of control. Just raw need and desperate relief. My arms wrap around his neck as he pulls me flush against him, his body radiating the heat I've come to crave.

We stumble closer to the pool, stepping down into the waters until it soaks our boots and pants up to the calf. The rain drifting down on us is warmer now, drenching our clothes and running down between our hungry kisses.

I feel his power flowing into me, fire essence filling my veins, but it's no longer about siphoning his magic. It's about connection—about giving and taking in equal measure. For the first time, I feel myself giving something back to him, a whisper of my own essence flowing into his body, making him shudder against me.

"Wait," he murmurs against my lips, pulling back just enough to gesture toward the clouds above the pool. The gentle warm rain droplets still hit the water with soft plinking sounds. But now steam rises immediately.

I feel its perfect heat on my skin. Not so hot that it hurts, but hot enough to soothe away aches and make me want to curl into him forever—just like this.

"Too hot?" he asks.

"No,” I say, looking straight into his eyes until I feel like I’m swimming in their molten heat. “It’s perfect.” I can feel the magic within me shifting as the thunder stops, but the downpour of rain picks up, falling on us in thicker and thicker sheets. I lean in for more kisses, but he presses a fingertip to my chin, making me pause as he stares into my eyes.

"I remember the first time I saw you." His finger traces the line of my jaw, then drifts back to my lower lip, exploring it slowly as if the world will stand still for us—as if we have all the time we could ever want here. "I heard you were a volunteer. Assumed that meant you were an Empire fanatic like Serena. I wanted to hate you for it, but I still knew I wanted you, even if I didn't admit it. I was scared to want you, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. Worrying about you. Trying to make sure you didn't get killed, but it turned out you were pretty good at watching your own back."

I laugh softly. "I've had a lot of help."

"People want to help you because they see what you are," he says, gaze intensifying. "Your strength. Your determination. Your intelligence." His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. "Your stubborn refusal to die when people want you to."

The words bring unexpected heat to my cheeks. "Is that what really attracted you to me? My stubborn streak?"

A hint of a smile touches his lips. "That. And this..." He kisses me again, deeper, his tongue sliding against mine. "And this." His hand skims down my side, over the curve of my hip to cup my ass greedily, pulling my body up and into his.

I arch into his touch as a moan slips from my lips.

"Let me see you," he says, his voice rough with desire.

My fingers tremble as I reach for the clasp of my uniform and slip out of my boots, clothing, shoes, socks, and underwear already completely soaked as we stand up to our claves in the pool, rain cascading down on us.

His eyes track every movement, darkening as I slowly undo each fastening of my clothing. The black fabric falls away, leaving me in just my underclothes—simple cotton, nothing fancy, but the way he looks at me makes me feel wrapped in silk.

Raith's breath catches. "Nessa."

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