Ones I’d sucked into his flesh with my lips and teeth.

Last night’s events crash back into me with the force of a tsunami.

Tides drown me. Tides sweep me away into cold, unforgiving depths. Tides flood my lungs and make me yours.

It would be a mercy.

My face burns with humiliation.

The things I did—the things I said.

“I’ll take your reddening face as a yes.” Zevayr strides over and unties his belt from my wrists, then removes the rope from my ankles.

His hands linger as he massages circulation back into my wrists. There’s a quiet tension in his jaw, and his eyes are shadowed, like he didn’t sleep at all.

“I removed the gag after you fell asleep,” he explains, an apology in his tone.

I can’t meet his gaze.

Wordlessly, I rise and eat my breakfast in silence.

Tides, how will I ever face him again?

If only we had an earthwielder with us. He could split the ground beneath me and let the earth swallow me whole. Maybe I should ask Zevayr to incinerate me with lightning. Maybe if I try hard enough, I could stop my own heart. Or maybe if we find a stream—

Zevayr clears his throat, dancing eyes lingering on my warm cheeks. “Remember when I said I had shared my power before? It was one of my soldiers—a powerful earthwielder. We were running low on food, all our reserves near drained. Normally, he could grow an entire field—carrots, potatoes, berries—ready to harvest, in about an hour.

“But he’d been injured in the last battle and hadn’t fully recovered. So I channeled some of my power into him. And he grew enough food for two battalions in thirty minutes. But afterward…” Zevayr chuckles. “It took eight men to restrain him. He kept trying to sneak into my tent.”

I want to scowl. Or crawl into a hole and never emerge. But when Zevayr says, “he kept trying to sneak into my tent,” I lose it. A startled laugh bursts from my lips.

Zevayr grins, bright and unguarded.

“What did you do?” I ask, still giggling.

“He injured his guards with his wielding. After that, we used valerian root to sedate him. His wife still lords it over him.”

Another laugh escapes me, and he smiles broadly, as if the sound brings him joy. “You didn’t try half as hard as he did. I’m a little offended, if I’m being honest.”

Tears stream down my cheeks from laughter. Zevayr just watches me, eyes bright, his lips curved in a half-smile.

When my laughter subsides, a question lingers on my tongue. I quietly ask, “That couple I told you about, the one caught power sharing … they were just, they—” My face flushes, and I can’t finish my sentence, but Zevayr understands anyway.

“I’ve known couples who power share for … recreational purposes.”

“Have you ever done it?” The words escape before I can cage them.

He shakes his head. “It takes a great deal of trust.” Something soft flickers behind his eyes. “It’s not something I’ve found yet.”

We sit in silence before I can summon the words.

“Thank you.” He arches a brow. “For saving my life. I would’ve died if you hadn’t shared your power with me.” I cut my gaze away. “And … for not taking advantage of me last night. I know I didn’t make it easy on you.” My eyes linger on the love bites lining his neck. “And for your kindness about it now.”

He doesn’t say anything for several heartbeats, his gray eyes just studying me with something akin to wonder. Then slowly, his lips curve into a soft, genuine smile.

We’re packing up camp when he says, “You called me Zev last night.”

I freeze. That’s what his friend had called him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I liked it,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It reminded me that … maybe I’m still someone worth trusting.”

My chest squeezes tight.

“So, yeah,” he continues, eyes flicking to mine. “You can call me Zev. If you want.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ZEV AND I TRAVEL for another week. We’re mere days from the Arbinji army base, and the thought fills me with trepidation.

Everything will change.

I will be wed.

There will be peace.

But my resolve doesn’t feel as strong as it did when I left Tundrayn. I glance sideways at Zev, walking beside me.

I pretend I don’t know why.

“What will the wedding be like?” I ask that night after we’ve eaten.

“Opulent. Majestic. A bit boring, honestly.” The firelight casts long shadows across his cheekbones.

I roll my eyes. “I mean the ceremony itself. What do I have to do?”

“Walk down an aisle. Say a few vows. Promise to act in the best interests of Arbinj.” He thinks for a minute, eyes scrunched. “And there’s a dance at the reception.”

“Dance?”

He glances at me. “Yeah. Ballroom dance?”

I stare at him blankly. An owl hoots somewhere in the trees.

“You don’t have dancing in Tundrayn?”

“We have dancing,” I huff, crossing my arms. “The drum dance.” He arches a brow. “Lots of swaying? Stamping in time with drum beats? Swaying hips?”

His lips quirk. “There’s no stamping in a ballroom dance.”

I bite my lip, brows furrowing.

He rises to his feet, dusting off his pants before offering me his hand. “Here, I’ll show you. It’s easy.”

His smile is soft, and a warmth fizzles inside me that has nothing to do with the crackling fire. This is a horrible idea—whatever this is—but I don’t want it to stop.

Still, I don’t move, and he clasps my hand and tugs me to my feet.

“Zev, there’s no music,” I laugh.

He looks so happy, a wide smile brightening his face. I don’t want to dim the glow in his eyes.

“We’ll manage,” he murmurs. He positions my hand on his shoulder, while his finds the curve of my waist. With his other hand, he intertwines our fingers, raising our joined hands in the cool night air. “Just follow my lead. Step when I step.”

He’s a natural, swaying me effortlessly to a rhythm I can’t match.

“You’re very good,” I breathe. His molten gray gaze snares my own, and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. Something warm and tender and right wells in my chest. Something dangerous.

“My mother taught me.”

While Zev glides across the ground, I … well, stamp. On his feet. Several times.

After the third time, he whispers, “Come up onto my feet, Mayah.”

“No, I—”

His hands bracket my waist, lifting me until I’m balanced precariously on his boots. His soft smile clouds my reservations. My hands wind around his neck, chest brushing against his with every breath.

And just like that, we dance. The world falls away, and it’s only the two of us, beneath the light of the moon, dancing to the music of rustling leaves and the gentle whisper of wind.

Zev’s gaze stays locked on mine, lit with something that looks achingly like longing. He leans in, slow and measured, until only inches separate us. His eyes drop to my lips—lingering—then rise again to meet mine, dark with intent.

“Mayah…” He whispers my name like I’m his salvation.

And I’m weak, Tides, I’m weak. My resolve crumbles.

I cradle his face in my palm. His eyes flutter shut. He covers my hand with his own, pressing it tighter to his skin, graceful fingers trailing over mine. The way he touches me—soft, almost trembling—feels like worship, like he’s terrified I’ll vanish. For one fragile heartbeat, I let myself believe this could be real.

But then his body tenses.

He peels my hand from his cheek, lifting it into the moonlight.

The moment shatters with the gleam of black diamond.

He drops my hand like it burned him, and the heated space between us turns glacial. A veil falls over Zev’s eyes, and any softness I may have imagined evaporates.