17.1

Nuri woke to the dull, pulsing ache of a headache, the kind that wrapped around her skull like a vice. Her whole body felt heavy, like she’d been dragged through a night of drinking despite touching nothing stronger than water. A low groan rumbled from her throat as she turned over—and the heat pressed against her fingertips made her freeze. Skin. Warm, bare skin.
Memories tumbled back in flashes. Tempest and Rian. Falling asleep wrapped in limbs and breath. And then, sometime in the night, the shift. Now it was Kalmin sleeping beside her—soft snores slipping from parted lips, one arm draped loosely over her waist.
Her gaze slid to him, and she didn’t look away.
There was something so raw about him like this—unguarded in sleep, his features softened, those sharp cheekbones shadowed in morning light. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, to the way his bottom lip was just slightly fuller than the top. What would it feel like to kiss him? Not Tempest. Her. Nuri. To feel the weight of that mouth against hers, to taste him, slow and sure and—
‘Get a grip.’ She yanked the pelt around her like armor, sitting up too quickly. The room swayed, her headache spiking. She needed to get out, get to her room, get some air and space and—god, why did everything feel so tight?
Two doors. One had to lead back to the main house. Hopefully.
“If you wanted to see me naked,” Kalmin’s voice was still thick with sleep, rough and dragging over her spine like velvet and gravel all at once, “there are... easier ways to go about it.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She turned—and instantly regretted it. “Oh!” she yelped, spinning back around as heat flooded her face. “Sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean—”
Kalmin chuckled, slow and deep, and the sound twisted something low in her stomach. “Sure you didn’t.”
She heard the rustle of fabric as he pulled on sweatpants and cursed every deity in existence for how her body betrayed her. Her palms were clammy. Her legs shaky. She could still see the line of his back, the way it dipped into his hips, muscles sculpted like art.
“The door to your left,” he said casually. “It’ll drop you into the hall, under the stairs.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled, all but bolting through the door. Only when her bedroom door clicked shut behind her did she release the breath she’d been holding. Her knees hit the edge of her bed and she slumped forward. ‘Are you awake yet?’
‘Do you think I could’ve slept through that?’  Tempest’s groggy voice rang out inside her, sharp with irritation. ‘The second you saw Kalmin, your panic punched me in the face.’
Nuri winced. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘I’m not mad. I just didn’t sleep well,’ Tempest muttered, her tone guarded in a way that made Nuri's nerves coil tighter.
“You too, huh?” she said aloud, already walking into the bathroom for a quick shower. “Were you awake long after I passed out?”
‘Only an hour or two.’ The hesitation there made Nuri pause.
Only an hour or two. That wasn't nothing. She turned off the water, wrapping a towel around herself as she padded into the closet. Her fingers brushed over the clothes without really seeing them. ‘Why were you up so long?’
Tempest exhaled. ‘Rian and I were talking. You and Kalmin were already asleep. Eventually, we let our guards down and you both slipped forward. That’s probably why you woke up first.’
Nuri chewed on her lip. “Can I ask what about?”
She pulled out light-washed jeans and a pastel halter top with a plunging neckline. Cute. Maybe too cute. But she didn’t put it back.
‘Mostly about the ultimatum Kalmin gave you yesterday. The logistics of graduating so soon.’
Nuri sat on the edge of her bed, towel slipping lower on her chest as she leaned forward. Her voice softened. “You should’ve been enjoying your time out. Not worrying about that.”
‘Well,’ Tempest sighed, trying to sound casual and failing. ‘It was more Rian worrying, to be fair. But I didn’t mind. It was... kind of nice.’
She raised a brow. “You weren’t typing on sticks again, were you?”
‘Ha-ha. Hilarious. No. He has this enormous keyboard—it’s stupidly large. I think it was custom-made. Honestly? I loved it.’
Nuri laughed, tugging on her jeans and top, twisting slightly in the mirror to make sure the halter wasn’t too much. It was. She wore it anyway.
“With his resources? I’m not surprised,” she said, braiding her hair over one shoulder. “Did you guys come to any sort of conclusion?”
‘Sure. If you can call it that.’ Tempest hesitated again. ‘Rian said it’s doable. Barely. But we’d have to grind nonstop. You’d come out the other side wrung dry.’
“I figured as much,” she said, already heading downstairs, the scent of bacon teasing her senses like a siren’s call. Her stomach growled. Then she saw him.
Kalmin stood at the stove, the sleeves of his black T-shirt tight around his biceps, the fabric stretching across his back as he flipped something in the pan. His hair was damp, dark and curling slightly at the ends, one stubborn strand clinging to his temple.
He’d changed. But not enough to undo what she’d seen. Not enough to stop her from looking. And wanting.
“Sit. It’ll be done in a second,” Kalmin said without turning, biting into a strip of bacon before dividing the rest between two plates.
“Okay. Thank you,” Nuri said, sliding into a chair at the table. She watched as he dropped bread into the toaster and set a butter dish on the counter with a knife. “I’m resolved. I want to do it.” Her voice didn’t waver as she locked eyes with him.
Kalmin whipped around, his brows drawn tight. “It hasn’t even been a full day. You’re either severely underestimating what that means, or you haven’t actually weighed the pros and cons.”
“No,” Nuri snapped. “I think you severely underestimate what it’s like growing up hybrid in this world.”
Her voice was sharp, teeth clenched, and Kalmin stilled.
“I was three the first time a purebred tried to kill me, Kalmin. Three. There is no con greater than knowing if I don’t try, it’ll never change. Things will keep going the same way they’ve gone for centuries.”
Silence.