Page 93 of Unravelled
Ren lay there, utterly wrecked, his chest heaving, his head still pressed against the pillows, his hands still tangled in her hair. Slowly, lazily, he cracked one eye open, his lips curving into a dark, dangerous smile. Mira barely had the strength to move, the warmth of satisfaction settling deep in her limbs. The rush of fire that hadburned so hot between them, was slowly ebbing, leaving her body heavy, her mind drifting.
She sighed, her lashes fluttering as exhaustion started to creep in. Slowly, she crawled up the length of his body, pressing herself against his side, her cheek resting against his chest. His skin was warm beneath her, his heartbeat still rapid. Ren hummed, his arm sliding around her, pulling her close, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles along her spine.
“It’s the Emberbane,” he murmured, his voice lower now, softer. “The crash is hard.” Mira’s lashes fluttered, her head tilting slightly to look up at him. She felt safe, wrapped in his warmth, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his chest.
“Sleep, Mira.” She hummed in response, her body already giving in, already drifting. Ren pressed a slow kiss to the top of her head, his fingers still moving in lazy strokes down her back. And as Mira slipped into sleep, the last thing she heard was his voice, low, deep, almost distant. A whisper against her hair, a promise she wasn’t quite awake enough to grasp.
???
Only a few hours passed before Mira stirred. Shadows stretching longer across the walls. The air had cooled slightly, clinging damp against her skin, but the lingering scent of tahla and sandalwood still hung in the silence. She blinked against the low light. Ren’s arm lay draped over her waist, heavy with sleep, his breath warm at the back of her neck.
For a moment, she didn’t move. She listened, to the stillness, to the quiet hum of her thoughts, to the way the Emberbane no longer howled, only murmured beneath her skin.
She slipped free from the bed with care. The room welcomed her with its hush. The bath still waited, the water still warm and fragrant, the petals bobbing lazily at the surface. Mira padded across the stone floor, the cold touching her bare feet like a whisper. She stepped into the bath with a soft sigh, the warmth embracing her. For a heartbeat, she simply stood in the water, watching the petals shift around her. Then, with a slow exhale, she sank down.
She dipped her head beneath the surface and the world went quiet. Mira opened her eyes. Beneath the water, everything was muted, the light, the sounds. The Emberbane's grip on her mind slackened, its claws retreating until all that remained was a quiet, echo at the edges of her consciousness.
Ren had been a choice, her first choice. The first thing she had done purely for herself. Not for survival. Not for duty. But because she simply wanted him. And yet, beneath the water, the vision Danlea had shown her stirred.
The boat drifting through stars. The glowing knot of threads, golden and waiting. The convergence that pulsed with consequence. Mira had the sense that the real choice was still ahead looming, inevitable. Mira blinked the vision away. Her heart beat, slow and deliberate. She exhaled beneath the surface, bubbles rising fast from her mouth.
Slowly, Mira broke through the water, drawing breath into her lungs. Water lapped gently at the rim of the bath. Droplets clung to her lashes as she pushed her hair back. She leaned back against the smooth curve of the bathing pool, letting the warmth settle around her like a second skin.
Soft sound of footsteps broke the quiet Ren stood just within the threshold, the light from the hearth silhouetting him. Mira saw the tightness in his jaw, the tension in his posture as he move through the room. The water rippled as he stepped into the bath, slow, almost tentative, until it reached his waist. He stilled.
“Mira,” he said softly.
She met his gaze, and in the silence that followed, he searched her face like he was trying to find the edge of a storm. His voice was careful, stripped of its usual charm, and laid bare.
"I know what tonight was. I know what the Emberbane can do. But what we did... what I said...” His throat worked. “I meant it. Every word. But if it wasn’t real for you... if it was only the fire”
“It wasn’t,” she interrupted, “I wanted you.”
His breath left him in a slow exhale.
Mira met his eyes, “I choose you, Ren.”
Ren closed the space between them, moving through the water with a quiet urgency. He reached her, his arms slipping around her waist beneath the surface, drawing her against his chest. Mira let herself fall into the embrace, into the warmth of him. His hand cradled her, his body molding to hers like it had always known how.
“Mira,” he began, voice rough at the edges.
His thumb moved along her spine, a small, rhythmic motion as if the words needed coaxing. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, a question ghosting across her features, but Ren continued, his voice a low, steady.
“For the memories you lost because of me. For the choices I made. I really thought I was protecting you.” His voice caught, and he swallowed, the motion sharp and visible, as if every word scraped against something raw inside him. "I was wrong.”
The admission seemed to pull something from him, a weight he had carried too long. His shoulders dropped, and for a moment, he simply looked at her, his gaze a quiet, open plea.
The candlelight cast soft shadows across his face, etching the vulnerability into every line, every curve. Mira let the silence stretch between them, the gentle slosh of water a soft undertone that filled the space with a rhythmic calm. She reached up, her fingers feeling the warmth of his cheek.
“I know.” Her voice was soft, but each word settled with purpose, solid and unyielding.
Her thumb brushed against his jaw, feeling the faint tremor beneath his skin, the unspoken fragility he rarely showed. A shiver ran through him, a barely there motion, and his eyes closed. The weight of her acceptance sinking into him like a stone finding its place at the bottom of a still pond.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispered, the words rough and broken. “I just want you, Mira.”
The air between them seemed to hum, charged with the gravity of his confession. The water cradled them, warm and still, a sanctuary.
