Chapter 57
“Hey, D. Wanna play a game?”
I could practically hear Doryan’s eye roll.
We’d been sitting in silence for over an hour, watching the rain quicken its rhythm.
He knew this was my favorite place when storms came—high in the mountain peaks, tucked inside a small cavern, where I could watch, listen, and feel my connection to the water.
The Hollow had been woken in the dead of night by alarms after another breach in our wards. We fought the Tyrians back again, but this time… this time we bled for it. Too many of our people were lost. The battle had been chaos, a bloodbath—and not the kind I could stomach.
It rattled me more than I wanted to admit. I’d spotted my sister among the survivors, but the look in her eyes after seeing the carnage had driven me to flee. I vanished into the mountains with River. Not before I emptied my stomach, shaking with the weight of it all.
When the rain started, we made our way back. River dropped me here—knowing this was where I go when storms break—and left to rest.
Doryan clapped a hand on my shoulder, giving me a shake. “Don’t stay out here too long, Fitz. Get all the rest you can. I’ll see you on the field.”
I flipped Doryan the middle finger as he walked away. He returned the gesture with a sharp grin. Tomorrow we march for Mageia. We march for war. And just the thought of it pressed down on me until the weight was almost unbearable.
I whipped around at the sound of approaching footsteps, ready to fire off a smart remark to Doryan—but my heart squeezed when I saw who it really was.
Shayde was walking toward me in the rain, clad in a fresh set of leathers. His hair was wet, slicked back from his face. He would fly out with the other fire elementals before daylight, while the groundborne units rode on foot.
“Doryan said I’d find you here,” he said, ducking his head beneath the stone lip and climbing onto the narrow platform beside me.
“I’ll have to remind him not to share my business,” I muttered.
Shayde pulled his knees up, rested his arms on them, and gazed out at the rising water.
The rain was building now, nearly deep enough to spill into the pool I always came here to watch.
When the water reached just a few inches, the pounding rain would dance across its surface—and soon, the entire clearing before us would transform into a magical display of elemental beauty.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
His words rooted me in place. I lifted my eyes to his, and for a long moment neither of us looked away.
“For everything,” he whispered. “But not for what we had. I could never be sorry for that.”
“And what if I want you to be?” My voice came out weak, completely at odds with the stoic edge of my words.
Shayde slowly shook his head, a soft grin forming.
A dimple surfaced—and my eyes locked onto it.
“Then you’ll just have to hate me a little more,” he said.
“Because I won’t let those moments go. In my twenty-two years of life, I’ve met no one who matches me like you do, Fallon.
Our time together may have been short, and it’ll never be enough for me, but if you need to hate me… I’ll let you.”
My eyes burned. I blinked hard, willing the sting away. “I don’t hate you.”
Shayde stiffened beside me.
“I just don’t know how to forgive you,” I whispered. My voice cracked on the last word.
“And I’d never ask you to do something you didn’t want to do.”
His face softened, but I could see the shift in his expression—the careful way he masked the disappointment. The truth. My heart screamed to tell him the rest. That I wanted to forgive him. That it wasn’t just him—I didn’t know how to forgive anyone.
Because I’d never really let anyone that close to my heart before.
We sat in shared silence as the rain fell harder, pooling at our feet. The soothing sound of the element did nothing to calm my crumbling heart. My traitorous mind fast-forwarded to tomorrow—when we’d be locked in battle with Tyria. Shayde Wylder was more than capable as a soldier. But what if…
What if I lose him before I get the chance to—
“You know,” he said suddenly, voice light, “I really struck out with the two of you. Is there a triplet hiding somewhere I don’t know about? Maybe third time’s the charm.”
His playful tone snapped me out of the spiral. A soft laugh escaped me. He grinned and started laughing too—something real and full. It was contagious. In seconds, we were both caught in a fit of laughter, shoulders shaking, the sound echoing into the storm.
For a moment, there was nothing but rain and reckless joy.
As our laughter faded into the sound of falling rain, I let the words slip free. “It’s too bad my mask broke,” I murmured. “Wearing it made me feel like a queen. I guess that’s why I kept it in my pocket for the trip home.”
Shayde didn’t answer right away, but I felt the weight of his gaze on me.
“I come here when it rains,” I continued, voice soft.
“Because I love watching the water pool in the mountain’s hollow.
Once it rises high enough, the rain dances across the surface.
Even when I’m not channeling, it always seems to rain when I need it most. It’s nature in its purest form.
Untouched. Untamed. It steals my breath every time. ”
He inhaled slowly, as if he had something to say—but then he let it go. Instead, he asked, “So are we screaming or dancing?”
My brows pulled together. “What?”
“In the rain,” he clarified, nodding toward the open air where droplets had begun to ripple across the shallow basin.
I considered it, a smile tugging at my lips. “What if it’s a little of both?”
Without hesitation, Shayde crawled out from under the narrow stone ledge and stepped into the forming pool. Rain soaked him instantly, slicking his hair to his forehead. He turned and held out a hand. “Then do me the honor of screaming and dancing in the rain with me.”
I slipped my hand into his, calloused fingers meeting mine. He helped me to my feet, guiding me into the heart of the water. The icy rain welcomed me like a secret only we shared, landing on my flushed cheeks with the gentlest kiss. The water rippled around our boots.
His hand never left mine. Then he lifted it, holding it in the air as his other settled at the small of my back. I followed, resting my free hand on his shoulder.
Then we danced, the patter of rain our only melody.
The shallow water splashed in time with our steps, echoing our rhythm back to the storm.
When Shayde twirled me, a graceful wave followed our movement, rippling outward like a curtain of silver.
As our momentum built, he spun me through a flurry of quick turns; the water rising and falling in sync.
The dance was a masterpiece of motion, the element dancing with us like it, too, wanted to remember the moment.
The rain soaked us—hair, skin, leathers—until we were dripping with it. But I didn’t care. Neither did he.
Shayde swept me into his arms, cradling me sideways as he turned us in a wide arc across the shallow pool. My legs floated weightlessly, fanned out by the motion, my body fully in his control. It was a move the soiree in Tyria never would’ve had room for—too bold, too free.
When he pulled me back into his arms, our chests were heaving. Shayde’s arm stayed firm around my lower back, keeping me suspended just high enough that we were eye level. My arms looped around his neck, and my boots dangled freely.
Raindrops streamed from the strands of hair clinging to his face. We shared a look—full of things only the two of us would ever understand. Slowly, his hand lifted to cup my cheek, warm and steady despite the chill.
Our mouths inched closer. Breath by breath. Moment by moment. Then—
A flash of lightning. A crack of thunder.
And just like that, the moment slipped through our fingers.