“Is it?” she asks, her voice soft as dark clouds swirl around her shoulders, thickening the air with charged emotion. “The monster who facilitated my father’s murder is out there, drawing breath. Hunting us. I need to learn how to control Mor before he finds us, and it’s too late.” She shakes her head slowly, a deep line forming between her brows. “I’m out of time—again. Everyone is counting on me, and I… I’m so scared I’m going to fail. But more than that, I’m angry. I’m so, so fucking angry, Kaebl—at Slaine, the stars, the fucking fates—but most of all, with myself. Because it’s right there. I can see it, taste it. All I need to do is reach out and grab it, and I—” Her voice cuts off as a silent sob shakes her chest, her glistening eyes betraying all the hurt she won't allow herself to say. “Why can’t I just do something right for once in my life? Why does it always have to be so fucking hard?”

I inch closer to her, afraid if I speak, she’ll put her walls back up and close me off forever. Sensing my hesitancy, Dagny brings a hand up to her eye, wiping away a stray tear as she forces out a hollow laugh. “Look at me, crying like a spoiled child…”

As someone hopelessly incapable of showing emotion, it's refreshing to watch someone express it so freely. My lips tip upward in a grin as I reach out, wrapping my hand around hers and giving it a light squeeze. You’re so much stronger than you realize, my love. An entire ocean of power is in your veins—a few drops are bound to leak out occasionally.

She returns my gesture, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth as a tingling warmth spreads between our palms. “You’re sweet. More so than I deserve.”

I wholeheartedly disagree—on both points.

Her smile widens, the darkened clouds hanging over her head fading into nothingness. “Well, I think you’re sweet. When you’re not being a grump, that is.”

I tilt my head, a pleasant warmth blossoming in my chest as her tinkling laughter fills the space between us. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to insult me in such a way.

“Don’t take it personally. I think I’m just delirious,” she says, taking her lip between her teeth as she gazes up through her lashes. “And anyway, you’re a hot grump, so it’s okay.”

Is that so? A rumbling growl vibrates my chest as I fight against my instinct to shove her smirking face into the ground and mount her. It’s unwise to taunt me, my love. Especially now, when I’m so close to the edge.

“The edge of what?”