Neither of us needs to say it. We both know, and we exit the pool, water streaming from our bodies. Raith flares his power briefly, creating a wave of heat that dries us almost instantly. The sensation of warm air rushing over my damp skin makes me shiver.

We dress in comfortable silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other. I feel different somehow—lighter, as if sharing this intimacy has lifted some of the weight I've carried for so long. The guilt over my family's deaths hasn't disappeared, but it's been acknowledged, brought into the light where it can't fester in darkness.

"Our elementals just watched that entire thing... didn't they?" I ask suddenly, the thought occurring to me with mortifying clarity.

A rare, full smile breaks across Raith's face. "I assume so, though Pyrin says he's been trying to give us privacy. In his own way."

"I busied myself with other things, angry human,” Typhon assures me.

As we prepare to leave, Raith catches me by the waist, pulling me against him for one last kiss. It's gentle, sweet, a stark contrast to the desperate passion of before.

"Whatever happens in the Crucible," he murmurs against my lips, "remember what you are. What you're capable of. You don't need to hide your power—you need to embrace it."

"I'm afraid of what happens if I lose control," I admit.

"You won't," he says with absolute certainty. "Not this time. Not ever again." His forehead rests against mine. "I believe in you, Nessa. It's time you believed in yourself."

The words settle into me, a balm for old wounds I've carried too long.

"Survive," he murmurs, pressing one last kiss to my lips. "Whatever it takes. And after..."

"After," I agree, understanding the promise in those words.

We slip from the washing chamber, making our way through darkened corridors toward the water common room where my friends await. For the first time since arriving at Confluence, I feel something dangerously close to hope.

Because no matter what tomorrow brings, I have tonight. I have this moment. I have him.

And maybe I'm finally beginning to have myself too—not the broken, guilt-ridden girl who arrived at Confluence expecting to die, but the woman I'm becoming. The woman who might, against all odds, not just survive, but thrive.

34

The castle corridors are silent save for our quiet footfalls as we make our way toward the eastern wing. Midnight has come and gone, the torches burning low, casting long shadows that dance across the stone walls. Every creak makes my heart skip, every distant sound has me jumpy.