The next thing Mal remembered was waking up.
"She did this," Phillip said. "She did this to us."
Mal wanted to praise the roots that he finally got it. That they were finally on the same page. But they were no longer alone in the tower.
"Looks like the two of you are awake."
Aurora stood in the doorway framed by the sunlight, her golden hair glinting like a crown, her expression sharp and dangerous. Beside her stood an equally stunning redhead in adress of soft sea-green. In her hands, she held a conch shell like the one on the dresser. Its surface gleamed as though freshly plucked from the ocean's depths.
"Can you believe that all that nonsense about True Love's kiss was real, Ari?"
The redhead shook her head, her long hair moving over her shoulders like octopus tendrils.
"This time, I'll make sure you stay asleep. Permanently."
Aurora turned to Ari, who lifted the shell to her red-glossed mouth and blew. Water erupted from the conch in a massive surge, rushing forward with an unstoppable force. The tower trembled under the weight of the blast.
Phillip lunged, shoving Mal aside with the force of his body. It was of no use. The waters came for them both.
The wall of water slammed into them, icy and unrelenting. It tore through the space, sweeping her and Phillip off their feet.
The water enveloped her, cold and brutal, stealing the breath from her lungs. She reached for Phillip, but the force was too great. The tower walls blurred into chaos as the wave blasted them out of the window.
They fell together, the roaring water cascading around them like a shroud. Mal’s heart was a panicked drumbeat in her chest as they plummeted. Her hand brushed against Phillip’s. Their fingers locked.
Mal sent out her magic. It surged, desperate to protect them. But the fall was relentless.
The world spun as they hurtled toward the forest below. The last glimpse of the tower window faded into the distance. Aurora’s mocking laughter and Ariel’s sinister smile lingered in Mal’s mind.
And then Phillip's arms were around her. Her forever fortress against anything that dared cause her harm. The safe space she could let down her defenses and rest in. Except now,there was nothing below them except the ground coming fast as they fell from the tower.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Phillip thought heat was supposed to rise. The air was cold as they fell. It whipped at his face, tearing at his clothes as he clutched Mal tightly against him. Gravity pulled them downward with merciless speed. The ground rushed up to meet them. His only thought was simple: If this was the end, he would go down protecting her.
But Mal—his fierce, indomitable Mal—was already calling upon her forest.
Branches reached out as they plummeted. Thick boughs stretched to slow their descent. The leaves rustled like a whispered prayer, cushioning their fall.
But they were falling too fast. The branches bowed beneath their weight. One by one, the boughs snapped, sending them tumbling farther.
Below them, vines slithered through the air, wrapping tightly around their bodies, pulling taut to slow their speed. They, too, stretched thin. Trembling with effort, the vines snapped.
Mal and Phillip weren’t over the earth. The dark gleam of water spread below them like a waiting abyss. Phillip’s stomach dropped as they crashed into the icy depths.
The water was colder than the air. It slapped him hard, a hammer, knocking the air from his lungs, the sense from his brain. Thank the godmothers it was not enough to break his hold on his beloved.
He'd made Mal a promise. He would not break it. He would never let her go again. His promise held firm, as did his arms around her.
The water swallowed them whole, dark and frigid. For a heartbeat, Phillip struggled. The primal urge to breathe burned in his chest. Then something strange and wondrous happened.
Flora—soft, delicate plants with bioluminescent tendrils—rose from the depths to cradle them. The plants wound gently around their limbs, their glowing fronds swaying like dancers in the current, easing them into the water’s embrace.
Blue vines slid over Phillip’s face, covering his mouth and nose like a soft veil. Panic surged, and he thrashed, fighting against the alien sensation. His muscles burned. Water sloshed in his ears, making everything sound distant and warped.
Mal’s hand found his. Her touch was steady, reassuring, even beneath the water’s pressure. He turned to her, and what little breath that remained left him. And then his lungs took in more.
The same plants covered her mouth, their tendrils pulsing gently. She wasn’t panicking. Her eyes, dark and steady, met his, filled with quiet trust. She pressed her palm against his chest, her magic thrumming in soft waves through her touch, urging him to calm.
