“You do.”

“I’m just zh’ūltis, I guess.”

His husky laugh vibrated through me. “If you were ahktallis, you would not have come here.”

My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Still holding me, he faced the waterfall. “We are going to climb it.”

“No, we’re not.”

“We are. It will be fun.”

“Whatever you think ‘fun’ means, you’re wrong.”

He grinned, scooped my feet off the ground, and launched toward the towering mountain, ignoring my protests the whole way.

Many hours later, sitting beside Zylas with the roar of the falls filling my ears, the frothing water plunging over the cliff right mere feet away and miles upon miles of rainforest stretching before us, bathed in the sunset’s golden light, I had to admit he was right.

The climb had been fun—terrifying, but fun. And the terror had been well worth this indescribable view.

Leaning my head on his shoulder, I smiled into the darkening sky, ready for our next sunrise together and whatever it would bring.