42. Rhett
Rhett
I shouldn’t be here, but my feet keep moving down the hallway—drawn by something. A pull. A need.
The sanctuary hums around me, alive again. Vines curl along the archways, daisies blooming in cracks that shouldn’t hold life. The Ether threads through everything—silver and warm and hers .
I’ve been wandering for a while now. Restless. Unable to settle.
Gray went to check the perimeter and the Feeders who stayed. Theo’s holed up in his room with constant visions. Wes is somewhere with Stellan, Seth’s smirk when I asked told me everything I needed to know. Thane’s avoiding everyone.
And Bree—
Bree is resting.
With Jace.
I told myself it was fine. That she needed sleep. That Jace needed to be with her, to work through whatever guilt’s been eating him alive since we learned about Riley.
But I can’t stop thinking about it.
About her .
About the way she looked at me in the kitchen yesterday—tired but whole, choosing to be here, choosing to stay.
About the way her Ether reached for me even when she was exhausted.
About the fact that I walked in on her with Gray. Stood there and watched. And realized I wanted to stay. To see them together .
The sun’s still low, light slanting through the windows in pale gold bars.
I stop outside her door.
It’s half-open. Gauzy curtains shift in a breeze that smells like rain and daisies.
I should leave.
I should walk away and give them privacy and not—
A sound drifts through the doorway. Soft. Breathy.
My entire body goes still.
That’s not sleep.
My hand moves before I can stop it, pushing the door open just enough to see inside.
And I freeze.
Jace. Bree.
Tangled together on the bed, her body arched beneath his, silver mist curling around them like a living thing.
For half a second, my brain doesn’t process it.
Then it does. It hits me—it’s not Riley at all. It’s Bree.
And every muscle in my body locks.
Not again.
The memory crashes into me—sharp and suffocating.
Riley’s voice. “You’re going to watch.”
The way she moved. The way she looked at me while she touched Jace, daring me to react.
The hollow, sick feeling of being forced to witness something that should’ve been private. Sacred.
My hands curl into fists, heat sparking along my veins.
I should leave .
I need to leave.
But I can’t move.
Because—
Because something’s different.
Jace shifts, and I catch a glimpse of her face.
Her eyes are closed, lips parted, one hand fisted in Jace’s hair. Her body moves with his—fluid and desperate and real.
And then I see them.
The scars.
Silver lines tracing across her ribs. Her hip. The curve of her breast.
Riley didn’t have those.
Riley’s skin was smooth. Perfect. Wrong.
But Bree—
God, Bree is covered in them.
Evidence of everything she’s survived. Every wound she’s carried. Every battle she’s fought just to be here.
They’re beautiful.
She’s beautiful.
My chest tightens, and the heat in my hands flares hotter.
This isn’t Riley.
This is Bree .
And I’m not being forced to watch.
I’m choosing to stay.
Jace’s magic stirs in the room—cool currents of air swirling around them, teasing her skin in ways that make her gasp.
I see the moment he focuses it. The way her entire body arches off the bed, a shocked cry tearing from her throat.
“Oh god—Jace— what — ”
My breath catches.
The fire inside me pulses in response—answering the spike of need, the heat building between them.
I should leave.
But I don’t.
I step forward instead.
One step. Then another.
The floorboards creak under my weight, and they both freeze.
Jace’s head snaps toward me, eyes wide.
For half a second, I see it—the shame crashing over him. The memory of Riley.
Not again.
But I’m not here to hurt him.
I’m not here to take anything.
Not this time.
I’m here because I choose to be.
Bree shifts, reaching for the sheet and drawing it loosely over her chest as Jace moves. The movement is careful. Bashful.
Nothing like Riley.
She stands slowly, the sheet draping around her like a cloak, and crosses the room toward me.
I can’t move. Can’t breathe.
She stops just in front of me, one hand holding the fabric in place, the other reaching for my wrist.
Her touch is warm. Solid. Alive.
“I know you were there,” she says quietly. “When I was with Gray.”
My throat closes.
She knows .
Of course she knows.
Bree’s voice drops lower, and I see the faint blush creeping up her neck.
“I didn’t mind.” She hesitates, then adds, softer, “I think I liked it.”
The words hit me right where it counts, and my body reacts before I can stop it.
She’s not angry. Not hurt.
She’s inviting me.
My eyes flick to Jace, still frozen on the bed, and then back to her.
“Bree—”
“I want you here,” she says. “If you want to be.”
I stand there, hand curling into a fist at my side, fighting the war raging inside me.
The memory of being forced. Of Riley’s cruelty.
Against the invitation in Bree’s eyes. The choice she’s offering.
This isn’t the same.
She’s not the same.
I step forward.
Bree exhales—relief and something deeper—and leads me back toward the bed.
But instead of sitting on the edge, she turns to face me fully.
“Sit,” she says, voice soft but certain. “Against the headboard.”
I blink. “Bree—”
“Please, Rhett.” Her hand tightens on my wrist. “I want you here. Really here.”
Jace shifts on the bed, making room, his eyes flicking between us.
I move slowly, sitting on the bed and leaning back against the headboard. The wood is cool against my shoulders, solid .
Bree climbs onto the bed and settles between my legs, her back to my chest. The sheet has fallen away entirely, and I can see everything—every scar, every curve, every mark that proves she’s hers .
She leans back against me, and I feel her warmth through my shirt.
“Better?” she asks, glancing up at me.
I can’t speak. Can only nod.
She reaches for Jace, pulling him closer, and he settles between her thighs—his hands on her hips.
“This is ours,” she says. “No more ghosts.”
Jace’s gaze meets mine over her shoulder.
And I see it—the fear that I’ll hate him for this. That I’ll leave. That I’ll see Riley instead of Bree.
But I don’t.
I see forgiveness.
The heat radiates off me in waves, and I feel Bree shiver against my chest—not from cold, but from anticipation.
My arms move without thinking, wrapping around her waist, holding her steady.
Jace kisses her, and she arches forward into it, her body moving against mine.
I see everything from this angle. The way Jace’s hands trace her scars. The way her breath catches. The way the Ether curls around them both—silver and alive.
“She’s beautiful,” I say, voice rough.
Jace glances up at me, and I see the gratitude in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “She is. ”
Bree turns her head slightly, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “So are you,” she whispers.
The words hit me harder than they should.
My hands move to her hips, steadying her as Jace settles between her thighs.
I watch as he pushes inside her, and she gasps—the sound vibrating through her body and into mine.
And this time, it doesn’t hurt.
It doesn’t feel like violation or cruelty or control.
It feels like belonging .
The Ether pulses—brighter now, reacting to all three of us.
My fire stirs in response, low flames flickering along my forearms. The heat rolls through the room in waves, mixing with the cool drift of Jace’s air magic.
Bree’s hands find mine where they rest on her hips, threading our fingers together.
“You’re both here,” she whispers, and there’s wonder in her voice. Relief.
I lean forward, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “We’re here.”
The magic responds—silver and gold and the faint shimmer of blue, weaving together in the space between us.
I feel Jace’s magic against my skin, cool and deliberate. Feel the way Bree’s Ether threads through everything, binding us together.
And I let myself feel it.
Let myself be part of this.
Jace sets a rhythm—slow and deep—and I feel every movement through Bree’s body pressed against mine.
Her head falls back against my shoulder, eyes fluttering closed .
One of my hands moves from her hip to her stomach, then higher. I cup her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple, and she gasps.
I feel Jace stutter inside her, barely holding on.
“Fuck,” he breathes.
I meet his eyes, and I see it—the question. The permission.
I nod once.
My hand slides lower, finding the place where they’re joined.
Bree cries out—head falling back against my shoulder.
“Rhett—”
“I’ve got you,” I murmur against her ear. “We both do.”
My fingers press against her clit, circling in time with Jace’s thrusts, and I feel it—the way her body clenches, the way she trembles between us.
Jace adds his magic back into the mix—cool currents of air swirling around where my fingers work.
Bree’s entire body goes taut, a strangled sound tearing from her throat.
The magic flares—gold and silver and blue, pulsing so bright it fills the room.
My fire surges in response.
I feel her climbing. Feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter.
“Let go,” I whisper against her ear. “Let us see you come apart.”
And she does.
She shatters between us, crying out both our names, her body arching as Ether explodes outward in a wave of light.
Jace follows immediately, burying himself inside her one last time, gasping her name.
And I hold them both .
Grounding them. Anchoring them.
My fire pulses in time with her heartbeat, and I feel it—the bond flaring bright between all three of us.
When it’s over, we’re all breathing hard, tangled together in the aftermath.
The light settles. The magic quiets.
And we’re just… here.
Jace pulls out slowly, and Bree winces. He brushes a kiss to her temple, murmuring something I can’t hear.
I help her lie back, and she curls between us—one hand on Jace’s chest, the other reaching for mine.
I take it, threading my fingers through hers.
For a long moment, none of us speak.
Then Bree says, voice soft and drowsy, “No more ghosts.”
I look down at her—at the woman who chose us, who forgave us, who’s still choosing us even after everything.
“No more ghosts,” I echo.
Jace presses his face into her hair, and I see the way his shoulders finally relax.
The sanctuary hums softly around us, alive and whole.
And for the first time since Riley, I don’t feel like I’m watching from the outside.
I feel like I belong .
This isn’t forced. Isn’t cruel.
This is ours .
And I’ll protect it with everything I have.