He hit the water hard, a burst of foam swallowing him whole. No one dove in after him. Not a single soul.
Ursula harrumphed, her lips pressing into a thin line. She could almost hear herself sayingI told you so. She let herself sink, letting the sea cradle her as she peered through the gloom. Below the surface, the man drifted, ropes tangled around his limbs like hungry hands.
He wasn’t struggling. A deep gash ran along his forehead. Dark blood curled into the water, mixing with the debris sinking around him. The hit had knocked him out. If the ropes didn’t drown him, the weight of his own body would.
Ursula told herself it wasn’t her problem. He had made his choice—to care, to save, to throw himself into the fray like a noble, self-sacrificing fool. And look where it got him.
Last time she saved someone, she'd lost her crown. She'd lost everything.
So what would this cost her?
With a frustrated flick of her tail, she surged forward, closing the distance between them in seconds. She would just put his head above water. That was it. She wasn’t saving him.
She was simply… delaying the inevitable.
CHAPTER THREE
Eric felt like he was dreaming. It was the best dream he’d ever had. He was floating, weightless, adrift on a sea of warmth and silence. There was nothing to concern himself with. Nothing pulling at him. No burdens pressing on his shoulders.
The kingdom was fine. His mother was alive and nagging at him to finish his lessons. His father was strong, steady, the ruler Eric had once believed him to be, the ruler their people needed.
“Keep your head above the water.”
The voice was not from the waking world. It was not from the dream, either. It was something divine in its clarity.
It was a woman’s voice. Sweet would be the wrong word to describe it. It was more husky. It wascommanding, warm like firelight and sharp like steel. He didn’t know if it was memory or magic. But he obeyed.
His muscles screamed in protest as he fought his way upward. His limbs moved as though submerged, and the sea pulled at him. His head broke the surface, and air—blessed, raw, cutting air—filled his lungs in a gasping rush.
That was all he needed to do. Nothing else. Just breathe.
There were no other responsibilities here. No throne to worry about. No arranged marriages. No future looming like a storm on the horizon, ready to consume him whole.
All he had to do was be.
“Breathe,” the voice demanded.
Right, and that. Eric did as he was told. Or he tried to. He wanted to please her. Somehow, he knew that it would please her if he followed her instructions.
He coughed, water pouring from his mouth and nose. He blinked against the sting of salt in his lungs and moonlight in his eyes. Or at least he thought his eyes were open.
Was he still dreaming? It had to be a dream. His mother was no longer on this earth with him. His father was off somewhere in the country, surroundinghimself with sycophants and courtesans. His father was the reason Eric was all wet.
Why was Eric in the water? Because he’d gone to sea. Why had he gone to sea?
“Don’t you dare die on me when I took the effort to save you.”
She’d saved him. He wanted to say thank you. He wanted to save her right back. He was good at saving things, good at cleaning up messes. He wanted her to know that. He wanted this angel to come to depend on him. But first he had to get her in his line of sight.
And there she was. She was an angel. An angel with hair that was a wildfire of red, a flame untamed by wind or tide. Her eyes, impossibly blue, deeper than the sea, pierced through him. That smile—half amusement, half challenge, all annoyance—it stirred something in him, something restless and unfamiliar. Because it wasn’t a smile. It was a smirk.
No woman had ever smirked at him like that, as though she expected him to prove himself worthy of her attention.
He liked that. He liked that she would make him work for it. He wanted to work for her attention. Once he caught her attention, he would bask in it forever.
Something shifted. Something burned in his chest. It was slow at first. Then searing, spreading like fire through his ribs.
A need. Desperate. All-consuming. Air. He needed more air.
