I don’t know how to explain it, not even to myself. But Nightfall is mine now.
This world. Its seas and storms. Its glittering shores and looming shadows—I belong here.
And I belong with him.
Which means I can’t hide. I can’t leave these things unsaid, not if we’re going to have any kind of future.
I lift my chin, forcing the words out even though they scrape my throat raw.
“She said you were the reason her daughter drowned herself. And she wanted me to follow.”
Kael’s breath hitches like I’ve struck him, and the storm in his eyes flares brighter in the dark.
My heart aches at the sight, but I don’t look away. I can’t.
We both need this truth, no matter how much it hurts.
“She said Maureen killed herself because of you. She wanted me to drown and disappear in the sea with her daughter. It was—terrible.”
For a moment, the only sounds are the distant tide and the erratic thud of my own heart, like a trapped bird beating the cage.
The words spin in my skull and then settle like cold stones.
Kael’s fingers close around mine—warm, fierce, grounding—and the world steadies a fraction.
“Fuck! Oh my gods,” he breathes, voice ragged. “I’m so sorry, Telya.”
He’s rigid with something fierce and terrible, but he doesn’t pull away.
Instead, he wraps himself around me tighter, as if binding me to him will stitch whatever’s broken.
The pressure of him is fierce and oddly holy.
I feel held, claimed, and protected all at once.
A sick, hollow thought claws up through me.
What if that shove had turned to nothing but water and weight and death?
What if Kael never whispered the word breathe to me?
The idea tilts something in my chest—everything I have feels suddenly fragile.
Like a candle in a storm.
If she had succeeded, there would be no more mornings, no more tempestuous nights, no more conversations about magical creatures, no more chances to learn everything I can about Kael.
Like his favorite curse words. Or favorite foods.
No more chances to see him laugh.
I would be gone.
I would cease to be.
I cling to him like a child to a parent who has just promised the night is theirs to keep.
A sob rips through me, jagged and useless, and he holds me tighter, his breath hot against my hair.
