He swam forward, staying above the water as long as possible, cutting a clean, strong path toward the falls. The roar grew louder. The spray blasted their faces. The sapphire glow brightened until it painted both of them in cold blue.
Less than ten feet from the crashing wall, he slowed, turning toward her with a look that begged the universe to prove him wrong.
"Do we need to be on the other side?" he asked, already knowing exactly what the answer was.
Nova nodded again.
Of course they did.
"I suppose you aren't going to let me go for you, are you?" Jax said, half hopeful, half resigned.
"We need my blood to get it," she replied, voice hoarse. Then she added, without hesitation, "And absolutely not."
They held each other's gaze for one suspended heartbeat—water glowing around them, breath mingling, tension coiling tight enough to snap.
Jax cleared his throat, forcing discipline back into his voice.
"Hold on to me tight, Nova. There'll be more currents. Don't let go."
She nodded and pulled herself onto him, wrapping one arm firmly across his chest, anchoring herself against him. The contact sent a sharp jolt through the matebond—warm, electric, undeniable—but neither of them said a word.
They both drew in a massive breath.
Jax dove.
The world swallowed them whole—blue light, crushing water, the roar of the falls above turning into a vibrating hum around them.
Nova tried to swim with him out of pure instinct, but he pulled her tight against him, muscles locking around her like an anchor.
Jax mindlinked her, voice firm but warm.
Jax: Just hold on, Nova. It'll be quicker this way.
She obeyed, gripping him with both arms now, her cheek brushing his back as they cut through the sapphire water. Every movement of his body—every strong pull of his arms, every powerful kick—sent ripples through her.
For one reckless second, Jax almost lifted her hand to brush his lips against her knuckles before remembering two crucial details:
They were underwater.
And they had a goddamned task to finish.
He pushed the impulse down—hard—and kept swimming.
He swam so quickly it startled her. Nova knew he'd been to war and that he trained, fought, bled, survived more than most warriors twice his age. But moments like this… moments where his strength was stripped of bravado and simply was—clean, efficient, instinctive—hit her harder than she expected.
She was amazed by him.
The sapphire-dark currents whipped around them without warning. One slammed into their right side, then another tore from the left, spiraling the water like a vortex. A third current dragged downward with brutal force. They were flung everywhere—dragged, shoved, pulled—violent enough that Nova's grip nearly slipped.
She almost lost him.
Jax reacted instantly.
He twisted, caught her waist, and hauled her against his chest with a force that left no space between them. One arm locked around her back, the other driving through the water in powerful strokes.
Her legs wrapped around him on instinct.
Fear flared through her—a sharp spike he felt immediately through the matebond. Not fear of drowning. Not fear of the depth. Fear of losing each other in the chaos.
He tightened his hold, grounding her, steadying her.
He felt the other thing too—the determination burning under the fear, the reason she wouldn't back down. The reason she would tear herself apart getting to whatever lay beneath this waterfall.
There was no turning around.
He knew it and she knew it.
Jax kicked harder, pulling them straight into the next violent pulse of water, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him sane in the crushing blue darkness.
They broke through the surface on the other side. Jax dragged in a desperate lungful of air, chest burning. Beside him, Nova coughed hard, water spilling from her lips before she finally sucked in a breath.
"Hey," Jax said immediately, hands coming up to her face. He cupped her cheeks, steady, grounding, thumbs brushing wet strands from her temples. His voice was low but urgent. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, still coughing once more before it settled.
He guided her toward the rocky ledge, pulling her onto the soft moss that lined the cave's edge. They collapsed beside each other, chests rising and falling, the sapphire-lit chamber pulsing around them like the inside of some ancient heart.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Jax muttered, perfectly straight-faced, "Just a light swim."
Nova let out a soft laugh. Jax laughed too, low and shaken, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. Her head rested on his arm, damp hair clinging to his skin, her breath warm against his shoulder.
Then she looked away. It was slight—barely a turn of her head—but he felt it. Felt the ache drift through her chest and spill straight into his through the matebond, cold and heavy.
He swallowed hard. He knew that sadness. He knew who it pointed to. He knew what conversations had been avoided… and who had been avoiding them.
This wasn't the time or the place—gods, they were soaked, panting, lying in a hidden cavern after cheating death twice.
But when exactly would be? Fin hadn't spoken to her either. Between the two of them, it was becoming a game of who would break first. A silent round of emotional hot potato.
The lake inside the cave blazed sapphire, the glow rippling up the walls like living light. Towering crystals jutted from the stone—amethyst, gold, rose-quartz, deep emerald—each one humming faintly, as if breathing in time with the falls.
Above them, the ceiling wasn't stone. Not really. It looked carved from the night itself—star maps spiraled across it in ancient patterns, constellations shifting slowly as if alive. The air smelled faintly of moonvine and sweetwater.
A soft breeze—impossible, underground—brushed his cheek.
Magic. Old magic. The kind that predated wolves, dragons, kingdoms… maybe time.
Jax let out a low breath.
Nova rose, water streaming from her hair. Her short silk robe was soaked and see through. It clung to her in a way that made Jax's breath hitch. He yanked his gaze away from her.
To be fair… neither of them had planned for impromptu drowning lessons today. They were supposed to be reading a book. Maybe unraveling a vision. Maybe—if she collapsed again—he'd carry her to Fin's bed and lay beside her until she settled. He'd actually been planning that. Quietly. Shamelessly.
He definitely had not planned on jumping off a waterfall with her.
He heard whispers and followed her train of sight.
Nova stepped toward the cavern wall, lifted her hand, and spoke a phrase in an ancient tongue. The wall shuddered. A serpentine dragon carved into the rock peeled itself forward. Its jaws opened, revealing a circular recess shaped precisely for the token.
Nova fitted the token into place.
The wall twisted. Stone shifted with a deep mechanical groan, turning the token as if the dragon itself were biting down.
The cavern answered.
A stone altar rose from the floor, pushing upward through moss and tangled roots with a heavy, shuddering tremor. Old magic stirred—older than Varos, older than the first kingdoms, older than the bloodlines that claimed to remember their beginnings.
At the top of the altar sat a shallow metal basin etched with runes that pulsed faintly.
Inside the basin, a small sapphire flame already burned.
Steady. Silent. Unnatural.
Its light crawled across the cavern walls, throwing long shadows that flickered like wings.
Nova walked toward it without hesitation.
Her eyes never left the flame. She bent once on the way, picking up a sharp-edged stone. `Her steps were steady, purposeful, instinctive.
At the altar, she drew the stone across her palm. Silver blood welled instantly. She held her hand over the basin, letting drops fall into the flame.
The flame shifted—flaring brighter, almost white.
Whispers stirred from the stone walls, cold and layered.
All who stand within the chamber must bleed.
Nova's brows tightened. She hadn't seen that in the vision.
Before she could turn, Jax was beside her.
No hesitation. No question.
He took the stone from her hand, sliced his own palm, and let his blood fall into the flame beside hers.
The sapphire fire responded immediately—stretching upward like it had been waiting for him.
The basin vibrated beneath their hands. The flame sharpened, narrowing into a focused, spear-like column.
And then the voices delivered the command—cold, absolute, ancient:
Submit your hands to the flame for judgment.
Jax froze for half a heartbeat. Nova didn't.
She reached out first, pressing her bleeding palm straight into the sapphire flame. It didn't burn—it felt cool, strange, alive.
Jax followed, placing his hand beside hers, their blood mixing again in the heart of the flame.
The reaction was instant. The sapphire fire exploded upward—roaring from the basin in a column to the cave ceiling. The blast struck the ceiling with a thunderous crack, sending ripples of blue light through the crystal constellations overhead. The air shook. The stone altar trembled.
The voices rose with the fire:
A bond older than this living breath.
Known to fate beyond love and death.
In this turning, fate inclined,
Agreed to seal what was entwined.
It is sealed.
A love unbroken. Pure. Defined.
The whispers thickened, overlapping like a chorus of ghosts.
Nova blinked hard. Not a tear fell—but her throat tightened, her jaw set. Jax felt it through the bond, like a hand closing around his heart.
The flames shifted—deepening, darkening—casting long shadows across the cavern walls. The whispers returned.
A promise whispered within the mother's breath.
A life born of love, undone by death.
Too early to be known or named,
Gone before the world was claimed.
The voices deepened, turning colder, sharper—like the chamber itself inhaled.
Jax's world stilled, watching Nova. She didn't react outside of a soft tightening around her eyes. He felt a flicker of pain so sharp it pierced the matebond like a blade.
It surged inside her like a trapped tide, but she remained composed. Unshakeable. Devastatingly calm.
Before he could speak, the flame roared again, higher, brighter—white-hot at its core.
The flame has seen you.
Worthiness is confirmed.
The Moonthread Amulet may pass to your hands.
The voices turned cutting, clinical. An executioner delivering fact.
Be warned, Moon Goddess descendant.
You have less than two full moons to live with a soul split.
The words struck like a blade. Jax inhaled sharply.
Nova didn't. She stared straight ahead, unblinking, unmoving, ignoring the words entirely. In fact, she was annoyed by it. Just add this to the list of the others that said she was going to perish.
The flame had not spoken a name, but the details it had given moments before made the warning unmistakable.
It was her.
Jax felt her pain. Her annoyance and resignation. Followed by her acceptance.
And he felt, with sudden clarity, that he might burn this entire ancient altar out of existence if it spoke another word about losing her.
Within the fire—now no more than a dim, trembling glow—a golden token took shape.
An amulet, thicker than the one Nova had used a moment ago.
A gold chain curled beneath it like melted sunlight, the pendant suspended in the dying flame as though held in the palm of the fire itself.