Selis’s laughter cracked, brittle and sharp, as she stood in the center of the cramped common room. Her dark curls spiraled wild across flushed cheeks, lips set in a defiant line. With every heartbeat, her rage bled through her white linen shirt—sleeves bunched to the elbows, hands trembling. Kavi stood across from her, jaw set, eyes wary beneath the shadow of her black fringe, fingernails digging crescents into her palms. Vael lounged by the window, arms folded, shirt half-unbuttoned and carelessly untucked—too relaxed, too removed, watching them like he was hungry for the fallout.

“Tell them,” Selis hissed, voice slicing the air. “Or I will.” The accusation sent silence rippling outward. Kavi’s eyes darted to Vael, lips parted, breathing ragged. Fear and longing warred on her face—she was both exposed and desperate to disappear.

Vael’s mouth curled into a slow, dangerous smile. “Nothing’s changed,” he murmured, each word a calculated blade. “You always want what’s already broken.” His gaze burned into Selis, then flicked to Kavi. For a moment, he softened—a flicker of regret, gone as quick as a match’s flare.

Kavi’s voice broke. “I’m sorry.” She choked back a sob, but the confession was drowned by Selis’s fury. “You weren’t sorry when you took him from me.” Selis’s fists slammed the table. “Did he promise you more? Did you think you were special?” Her words landed like blows.

Kavi flinched, shoulders shrinking inward. She wore Drevik’s faded hoodie over cut-off shorts, half-swallowed by its warmth, but nothing could shield her from the raw, exposed ache in her eyes. “I never meant—” Her voice faltered. She looked down, fingers tracing the ragged edge of a healing scar just visible at her wrist.

Selis turned on Vael, voice trembling. “You break everything you touch.” For a split second, grief replaced her anger. Vael’s eyes hardened, chin lifting in silent dare. The room fractured around them.

Kavi spun and fled, socked feet barely making a sound as she slipped out the door. Outside, the salt wind ripped at her hair as she stumbled toward the rocks, pain and guilt pounding in her chest. She barely noticed the rain starting, icy needles pricking her skin, until someone called her name.

Drevik, broad-shouldered in a threadbare tee, jogged down from the harbor path—brow furrowed in concern. “Kavi!” His voice was low, steady, grounding her. He caught up, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She tried to shrink away, but he wouldn’t let her.

She met his gaze—steady, blue-green, open in a way she’d never trusted. Her face was streaked with rain and tears, lips bitten raw. “You shouldn’t—” she whispered, ashamed. Drevik shook his head. “I want to.” His thumb brushed her cheek, slow and careful, treating her like fragile glass.

Kavi’s breath hitched. Vulnerability made her reckless this time—she surged forward, meeting his mouth with desperate force. Drevik steadied her, one strong hand at the nape of her neck, the other at her waist, holding her as the sky let loose above them. Their kiss was raw and hungry, but as they broke apart, he searched her face.

“You want this?” he murmured, eyes searching hers for doubt. Kavi nodded, lips trembling, fear melting into longing. Drevik’s hands traveled beneath the hem of her hoodie, tracing the curve of her lower back, warmth against cold skin. She shivered, but not from the rain.

They fell together onto the wet sand, Drevik pulling her close, their bodies tangled, skin pressing to skin under the gray dawn. He moved with aching patience, touching every scar, every hidden place, worshipping each one until Kavi felt herself unfurl—seen, chosen, needed. Every moan and sigh blurred with the wind, their urgency dissolving into deep, steady tenderness.

For the first time, Kavi didn’t flinch from the honesty of her own pleasure. She clung to Drevik, fierce and unguarded, until the tremors faded and the world stilled to the soft rhythm of his breath in her ear. He kissed her temple, cheeks, eyelids, reverent. In his arms, shame receded. Her heart found a fragile peace.

Elsewhere, dusk crept over the lighthouse. Vael stood at the base of the spiral stairs, Mirael pressed flush to his chest, lips ghosting over his. Her manicure gleamed as she traced his jaw, a smirk twisting her perfect mouth. “Ready to trade secrets for pleasure, Keeper?” she whispered. His answer was a reckless, devouring kiss—two predators circling, lust and power knotted tight.

Across the common room, Selis stared at her phone. A message flashed: I know what you did to him. I have proof. Meet me, or everyone will. Her hands shook. It was Mirael.

A storm gathered on every horizon.

To be continued...