"I don't feel blessed," she whispered. "I feel like I failed."
"You did not fail. You faced something monstrous and held your ground. You gave everything you had to give." I pressed my forehead to hers, breathing her in. "That is not failure, love. That is courage. That is strength. That is exactly what our people needed."
The words broke something loose inside her. Her face crumpled like parchment in a fist, and a sob ripped from her throat—raw and ragged, like something with claws had torn it free.
"Come here," I murmured, and she scrambled into my lap, straddling me as she pressed her face into the curve of my neck. Her entire body convulsed with the force of her grief, great wrenching sobs that seemed to originate from her very bones.
I wrapped my arms around her and held fast. One hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. The other splayed across her spine, anchoring her to me as she shattered. Her tears scorched my skin through the fabric of my tunic as her fingers clawed into my shoulders with desperate strength.
"I tried so hard," she choked out between sobs. "I tried so hard, Ruka."
"I know. I know you did." I rocked her gently, instinctively, the way the earth rocks the trees in a storm. "Let it out, love. I have you. I'll always have you."
She wept until I thought she might drown in it. Wept for the people whose names she'd learned too late, for the children who would grow up with nightmares. For every smile she'd forced, every tremor she'd suppressed, every scream she'd swallowed to appear strong enough to stand and fight a demon we could not see.
I held her through the tempest, my lips against her hair, whispering truths into her skin. That she was forged steel wrapped in silk. That her courage put warriors to shame. That I loved her with a ferocity that terrified me, over and over, until the words became a prayer.
Gradually, the storm passed. Her sobs gentled to shuddering breaths, then to the occasional hiccup. Her death grip on my shoulders eased, though she remained pressed against me as if I were the only solid thing in a world gone liquid.
"I love you," she breathed against my neck, her voice scraped raw. "I love you so much."
"And I love you," I murmured, kissing her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "More than the sky loves the stars."
We remained tangled together until exhaustion dragged her under. Her breathing deepened, her body melting into mine with complete trust. I eased us down onto the furs, drawing the coverings over us both. Even in sleep, she burrowed into me, seeking shelter in my warmth.
I studied her face in the dying firelight—the salt-tracks glistening on her cheeks, the bruised crescents beneath her eyes, the tiny furrow between her brows that wouldn't smooth evenin dreams. My warrior. My heart. This woman who shouldered mountains and never complained about the weight.
Eventually, sleep claimed me too, though my arms remained locked around her like a vow.
I woke to darkness—that suspended moment before dawn when even the stars seemed to pause. Jordan was already awake, her body restless against mine, hands mapping the planes of my chest with an urgency that sent heat pooling low in my belly.
"Jordan?" Sleep roughened my voice to gravel.
"I need you." The words tumbled out raw and fractured, her fingers pressing into my skin like she was trying to anchor herself to something real. "I need—please, I can't—"
Understanding crashed over me. All that grief, that fury, that bone-deep helplessness—it had to go somewhere. Had to transform into something she could control. And right now, she needed to feel alive, to feel anything except the crushing weight of sorrow.
"Then take it," I murmured, my hands sliding to her hips, thumbs tracing circles against her skin. "Take everything. I'm yours."
She kissed me hard, all teeth and desperation, her mouth crashing against mine with bruising force. There was nothing gentle about it, nothing soft or sweet or tender. She bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, and I growled low in my throat, the taste of copper sharp and metallic between us as I pulled her closer, my fingers digging into her hips.
Her hands were everywhere—clawing at my shoulders with nails that left trails of fire, raking down my chest hard enough that I felt the sting even through my shirt, gripping my hair hard enough to sting and yank my head back. She was wild, almost feral in her need, her breath coming in ragged gasps against my mouth, and I let her be. Let her take what sheneeded. Let her pour all that rage and grief and frustration into me, let her use me as an outlet for everything she couldn't say, couldn't scream, couldn't let out any other way.
Her body pressed against mine with desperate urgency, every curve molding to me like she was trying to disappear into my skin, as she ground her hips down with increasing intensity, seeking friction, seeking pressure, seeking release, seeking anything to drown out the pain that was eating her alive from the inside out.
"More," she gasped against my mouth, her breath hot and ragged, each exhale trembling with desperate need. "I need more. Please."
I rolled us over in one fluid motion, pinning her beneath me, and she arched up with a sound that was half sob, half moan, her entire body trembling with the force of her desire. Her legs wrapped around my waist immediately, pulling me harder against her, the heat between us almost unbearable. Her nails scored down my back, leaving burning trails in their wake, and the sharp pain of it only drove me harder, made me want to give her everything she was demanding and more.
"Don't hold back," she panted, her eyes fierce even in the darkness, pupils blown wide with need and something that looked almost like desperation. "Don't you dare hold back with me."
So I didn't. I gave her everything—all the strength and power she needed to push against, to fight against, to lose herself completely. I captured her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand as I claimed her mouth again, swallowing her desperate sounds, tasting the urgency on her lips. She bucked against me, fighting my hold even as she surrendered to it, the contradiction of her need written in every trembling line of her body, every gasping breath.
Our bodies moved together with bruising intensity, each touch almost violent in its need, in the raw hunger that had been building between us for far too long. The platform creaked beneath us as I drove into her, hard and deep, giving her no quarter, no gentleness, nothing but the raw intensity she was begging for. She met me thrust for thrust, her hips rising to take me deeper, her body demanding more even as she gasped and writhed beneath me, lost in sensation.
She bit my shoulder hard enough to leave marks, her teeth sinking into muscle with enough force to make me groan, and I responded by gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, my fingers digging into soft flesh as I angled her exactly where I wanted her, where I knew she needed to be. The new position made her cry out, her back arching off the furs as pleasure crashed through her in waves she couldn't control.
"Yes," she hissed, her voice raw and broken, barely recognizable. "Like that. Exactly like that. Harder."