Chapter 6 #3
Not burning, not to destroy, just enough to hold me. His fire wraps around my wrists like golden restraints, anchoring me in place, searing through the chill taking over my spine. Grounding me.
The water hisses—and slows.
It sinks back into the pool, calm once more.
I collapse back against the stone bench, mortified, and turn my face away. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Don’t be,” he says. His words cut through the storm that’s gathered in my chest.
He pulls me upright so he can wrap a towel and his arms around me, firm and unyielding. His touch is heat and strength and something steadier than either. I match his breath, the vise-like pressure starting to fade from my veins.
When I glance back behind him, any remaining mist settles back into steam like nothing ever happened. Noa’s eyes are still wide—but not with fear. His gaze moves from the water to my face, lingering on the steam curling in the air.
“Gods,” he whispers. His arm curves around my shoulders, his other hand gently touching my cheek. “You really are one of us.”
And in that moment, something changes between us. Not just lust or longing—but belief. Truth.
“Are you okay?” He’s looking at me like I’m made of glass or lightning. Possibly both.
I shake my head—because I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling. I barely understand what I even am.
His hand lifts to brush my cheek again before moving down my neck, the edge of his thumb skimming the place where my pulse is still thundering. “I can help you control it,” he says quietly. “If you’ll let me.”
The words are gentle—the offer is anything but.
He watches me closely, something fierce and unwavering in his gaze. “Has that ever happened before?”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “I haven’t exactly been in a situation like this since you left this summer.”
A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Well, thank the gods for that. I’d hate to have to kill anyone this early in the year.”
The tension breaks.
I laugh—soft and shaky, but real. “This was quite the welcome party,” I tease as he hands me my underwear and bra, noting—somewhat disappointingly—that he’s somehow already fully dressed.
“I would’ve had flowers and chocolates ready,” he says with a lifted brow, “had someone bothered to inform me you were coming.” His tone is easy. Light. As if I didn’t just nearly drown us both in a surge of magick.
He clears his throat, stepping back slightly as his fingers run through his damp hair.
“I told Magnus I’d give you the full officer’s tour,” he adds with a smirk.
“So, just so I’m not a liar—this particular room is mine.
Private hot spring, cold-plunge pool through there, sauna through that door, bathroom over there, and the shower-slash-changing room right here.
” He gestures around us with mock formality.
“Quite the perk,” I say, looking around, “of knowing an officer.”
“I believe you meant,” he says, eyes locking with mine as he pulls me toward him, “quite the perk of dating one.” The words are teasing, but beneath them, something steadier hums. Possessive.
Real. “I meant what I said, Celeste. I’m in this—all of it.
All of me. All of you.” His voice is low but unwavering.
All of me. The phrase tilts something inside that I haven’t looked at for a long time. Because even now, I can still remember silver eyes that once owned every part of me, even the parts I tried to keep hidden.
Noa tilts his head, searching my face—quiet, intent—like he’s reading the truths I’m trying not to show.
His fingers hook gently under my jaw, warm and sure as he tips my chin up.
His palm cups the side of my face, thumb brushing the edge of my lower lip—testing the space between us like a question he already knows the answer to.
“I don’t do half-assed. And I sure as hell don’t do trial runs.
Not when it comes to you. Not now that you’re here. ”
The last word—here—lands with weight, like he still doesn’t trust it to be real.
“I know, Noa,” I say quietly, the words threading between us like breath.
I shove the memories of my past behind me once more and lock the door.
“And what you asked me earlier? I’m in. You and me.
” I reach for the hand by my face, pressing a kiss into his palm before releasing him.
“I’ve been in since the very first second we met. ”
Something in him softens—then sharpens. He pulls me into another kiss, deep and sure, and for a moment, I think my heart might break open from all the emotions floating through it that I’m not quite ready to name.
When he finally pulls back, there’s a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well then,” he says, eyes dancing, “I guess we’ve got a statement to make. First event of the school year and all.”
He hands me his jacket, the fabric warm from his body, the rank and elemental patches glinting under the torchlight like a silent threat.
“Clothes on, Initiate,” he says, tone switching between playful and practical, though his eyes linger on me. “Or else we’ll end up spending the night in here, and neither of us will be making it back to our squads.”