"I called a storm," I say as we walk. "I was mad over something stupid. My brothers and my dad were on the boat with me and I was fuming all morning. And then by the time I saw the storm coming, I couldn't stop it. Our boat got thrown against rocks and we were all flung into the waves. I tried to get to them, but everything happened so fast. I nearly drowned waiting out there on the waves hoping they'd come back up—diving as long as my breath would hold and trying to search for them.

"When I finally floated back to shore on a piece of wreckage, I was dumb enough to tell my mom and sister the truth about what happened. I guess I thought they'd understand and forgive me. They... didn't. They hated me for it. So I spent three years doing everything I could to make it right. I worked to get a new boat. I spent every day fishing to earn money like we would have if my dad and brothers were still around. I tried so fucking hard, and it never mattered."

I wipe at my stinging eyes, shaking my head and laughing at myself. "And I shouldn't feel sorry for myself."

"Fuck that. You couldn't control it. You didn't know."

"If I hadn't been mad that day, they would⁠—"

"People get mad, Nessa. Fuck the Empire for making people think powers are something they need to hide. Maybe if you weren't worried about being captured in the night for showing your abilities, you could've learned to control it. It's not your fault."

I look away from him, nodding even though I know I'm not letting his words through my walls. "Yeah. I know."

Raith cups my face, turning me toward him. His touch sends another wave of fire passing into my skin that pools and curls inside me until it feels like he's touching me all over. I know my cheeks are burning, but I can't stop the transfer of energy this time. "It's not. Your. Fault, Nessa."

I hold his eyes, and somehow I feel his sincerity passing through his touch, too, almost like a shadow of the way emotions move through my tether with Typhon. I know he means the words down to his bones.

"I think... I'm worried if I believe that, it'll mean I'm not paying for what I did. That I'm letting myself off the hook."

"You volunteered," he says softly, and I can see the realization dawning on him. "That's why. You were punishing yourself."

I can't meet his eyes anymore. Hearing it aloud makes me feel silly and foolish for it. "They were happy to see me go."

"They don't know what they lost," Raith says quietly.

The simple statement catches me off guard. Before I can respond, he stops, raising a hand in warning. His entire demeanor shifts, tension radiating from every line of his body.