Nerina's POV
The waves obeyed me. That terrifying, beautiful realization sank into me like sunlight through water.
I stood at the edge of the training cove, heart hammering, palms wet—not from seawater, but from the energy pulsing inside me. Kaelen had said I needed to "feel the sea." I had no idea feeling it meant I could command it.
The water rose as I lifted my hand, curling like a serpent. I gasped. It responded.
Then it snarled.
It surged toward me, faster, fiercer than I meant. I stumbled back, but it was too late. The wall of water smashed toward me—
—And Kaelen was there.
His body collided with mine, knocking me back into the sand as the wave crashed beside us. I coughed, eyes wide, limbs trembling.
He was above me, dripping wet, dark hair plastered to his forehead. His hands were braced beside my face, his chest heaving.
"You can't lose control like that," he said, voice low, intense. "The ocean listens to you now. But if you're not careful, it will devour you."
"I didn't mean to—"
"I know," he said more gently. His thumb brushed a strand of wet hair from my cheek, and something in his eyes shifted—softened.
We didn't move. The tension between us was magnetic, dangerous. My chest rose against his. Our breaths mingled.
Then his gaze flicked to my lips.
I forgot how to breathe.
He leaned in—just an inch. Another. My heart thundered.
But then he froze. His jaw clenched. And he pulled away like I'd burned him.
"We should get back," he said roughly, rising to his feet.
I stayed on the sand, burning in the place where he'd almost kissed me.
---
Kaelen's POV
She was a storm I couldn't control.
Watching her connect with the sea, watching her eyes light up in wonder—it did something to me. Something I didn't like.
She wasn't just the girl I was bound to protect anymore. She was the girl who was starting to undo everything I'd built inside myself to stay distant.
And I hated how close I came to kissing her.
I hated how badly I wanted to.
"Stop being a fool," I muttered under my breath as we walked back to the palace. "You're her Guardian, not her—"
Then I saw him.
Standing at the steps of the coral palace was a tall man with sun-golden hair and a smile that curled like a challenge. He bowed with flair to the Queen before turning his gaze—too long, too interested—on Nerina.
"Who's that?" she asked.
I didn't like the glint in her eye.
"Thorne Vaelion," I said tightly. "From the Sky Isles."
He walked toward us with the ease of someone who never feared rejection. His eyes barely flicked to me before landing on her.
"You must be Nerina," he said, taking her hand. "Word of your beauty doesn't do you justice."
She flushed. And smiled.
And I wanted to break something.