Summary: In a moment of crisis, Nesta and Rhysand discover the depths of their powers are more intertwined than either had ever imagined.
Nesta sat on the highest balcony of the House of Wind, staring out at Velaris. The night sky stretched endless above her, stars twinkling like distant promises. She had come here to escape, to think, to breathe. But the weight of her power sat heavy inside her, always burning just beneath the surface.
It had been months since the war, since she’d been made into something more than human, but still she felt like a raw nerve, thrumming with untapped energy. Her powers were a mystery, volatile and fierce, yet they seemed to refuse her control. And while she hated asking for help, this—this force inside her—terrified her.
She didn’t flinch at the voice, though it sent a shiver down her spine. Of course, he would find her. Rhysand’s voice was smooth, like velvet caressing her senses, but she knew better than to fall for the easy calm he projected.
He stepped onto the balcony beside her, his wings rustling slightly in the soft night breeze. “What are you doing up here alone?”
“What do you want, Rhysand?” she asked, not bothering to look at him.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. He leaned against the railing, his dark gaze studying her. “You’ve been avoiding your training.”
Nesta clenched her fists, the power inside her flickering in response. She didn’t need this conversation right now. “It’s not training if nothing changes. I’m no closer to controlling it.”
Rhysand’s lips curled slightly. “Power like yours isn’t tamed easily. It requires patience.”
“And how would you know?” Nesta shot back, finally turning her gaze to him. “You’ve always had control. You were born into this.”
Rhysand’s amusement dimmed, replaced with something darker, more thoughtful. “You think I’ve never struggled with my power?”
Nesta narrowed her eyes, but before she could speak, Rhysand continued, his voice soft yet dangerous.
“When I first came into my power, it nearly consumed me. I was young, reckless, and there were times when I thought it would destroy me.” He stepped closer to her, his violet eyes glowing in the darkness. “But I learned that power like ours isn’t about control. It’s about trust. Trusting yourself.”
Nesta’s throat tightened. Trust wasn’t something she gave freely, not even to herself. Especially not to herself.
“You’re holding back,” Rhysand said quietly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “You’re afraid of what you might become.”
She glared at him, but there was no denying the truth in his words. Her power was a beast, wild and untamed, and she was terrified of unleashing it, of what she might do if she let it free.
“You don’t understand,” she muttered. “It’s not the same.”
Rhysand’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the High Lord of the Night Court looked almost… vulnerable. “Maybe not. But I do know what it’s like to fear your own power.”
They stood in silence for a long moment, the night air thick with tension. Then, without warning, Rhysand reached out and took her hand. Nesta’s instinct was to pull away, but something in the way he looked at her—something fierce and unyielding—kept her still.
“Let me show you,” he whispered.
Before she could protest, she felt it—his power, cold and ancient, slipping into her like a shadow. It wasn’t invasive or forceful, but rather, it wrapped around her own power, coaxing it out from the cage she’d locked it in. Her breath hitched as her magic responded, a burning heat that flared in her chest.
For a moment, they were suspended between worlds, their powers intertwining like threads of night and fire. She could feel his mind brushing against hers, not probing, but simply… being there. A quiet, steady presence in the storm.
“Don’t fight it,” Rhysand’s voice echoed in her mind. “Let it flow.”
Nesta gritted her teeth, her heart pounding. She didn’t know how to let go, how to trust this power that had been forced upon her. But Rhysand was there, anchoring her, guiding her.
Slowly, she loosened her grip on the control she’d been clinging to for so long. Her power surged, wild and untamed, but instead of overwhelming her, it danced with Rhysand’s, like flames licking at the edges of the night.
The stars above them pulsed, brighter and closer than they’d ever seemed before, as if they, too, could feel the magic swirling between them.
“I can’t—” Nesta gasped, the power threatening to spiral out of control, but Rhysand squeezed her hand, grounding her.
“You can,” he said softly. “You’re stronger than you think.”
With a deep breath, Nesta allowed the full force of her power to rise, no longer fighting it, no longer afraid. It roared through her like a tempest, fierce and unrelenting, but she wasn’t alone. Rhysand’s magic was there, not controlling, but supporting, balancing the raw intensity of her strength with his own calm.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Nesta didn’t feel like she was drowning.
As the power ebbed and flowed between them, she caught a glimpse of something deeper, something beyond the magic—an understanding, a connection that went beyond the bond that linked her to Cassian. This was different, more elemental, as if their powers had recognized each other long before they ever had.
And in that moment, Nesta understood what Rhysand had been trying to tell her. Power wasn’t something to be controlled or feared. It was a part of her, just as it was a part of him.
When the storm inside her finally settled, she opened her eyes to find Rhysand watching her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.
“You did it,” he said quietly, his voice laced with pride.
Nesta let out a shaky breath, her hand still clasped in his. She wasn’t sure what to say, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. For once, she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with sharp words or bitter retorts.
Instead, she simply nodded, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips.
Rhysand smiled back, and for the first time, Nesta realized that maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t as alone as she thought.
And maybe, power wasn’t the enemy after all.
