Come on, woman. Fight. I’ve seen ye fight—ye near took that man’s head off with a piece of wood.
He pressed his fingers to her throat, searching for a pulse. There—faint as a whisper, slow as winter coming. But there.
Erik hesitated only a heartbeat before making his decision.
The old ways. TheAndi—the breath, the soul, whatever name the Christians wanted to give it. His people believed that drowning stole the breath from the body, that it fled through the mouth and nose and left only an empty shell behind. To return it, one had to share one’s own.
He bent over her, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other tilting her chin up. Her lips were cold as ice against his palm. He exhaled slowly, breathing warm air into her mouth, willing his warmth into her lungs, his life into her death.
Take it. Live, damn ye…
Once. Twice. A third time, their lips nearly touching as he breathed for her. Then, she convulsed.
Water erupted from her mouth as she coughed—violent, wracking spasms that shook her entire body. Erik turned her onto her side, supporting her as she choked and gasped, bringing up what felt like half the Inner Minch onto his furs. Her eyes flew open, wild and unfocused, the blue-green of a stormy sea.
She saw him… or more specifically, she saw that she was naked except for a fur blanket, pressed close enough to a strange man to feel his breath on her face, his hands on her body.
Her palm cracked across his face with surprising force.
The slap echoed in the small cabin like a gunshot. Erik’s head snapped to the side, more from surprise than pain, though his cheek stung fierce enough. For a heartbeat, he just stared at her, his hand rising instinctively to catch her wrist as she drew back for another blow.
He caught it. Held it. Then immediately released her, raising both hands in a gesture of peace.
“Easy,” he said, his voice rougher than he’d intended. “Ye’re safe.”
“Safe?” Her voice was raw, scraped bloody from seawater and coughing. She clutched the fur to her chest with one hand, her eyes darting around the cabin like a trapped animal seeking escape. “Safe? Ye… ye undressed me! Ye?—”
Gods, even half-drowned and furious, she’s ravashin’.
“Aye, I did.” Erik kept his voice level, matter-of-fact. “Ye were drownin’. The cold would’ve killed ye faster than the water if I’d left ye in those clothes.”
“So ye just…” She sputtered, her face flushing from pale to pink to nearly crimson. “Ye cannae just… ye’re nae?—”
“I saved yer life.” He let a hint of steel creep into his tone. Not anger, just fact delivered with the weight of truth. “So before ye strike me again, perhaps a ‘thank ye’ might be a better move.”
She stared at him, her chest heaving with each breath, water still dripping from her hair onto the furs. He could see her mind working behind those blue-green eyes—fear giving way to confusion, confusion to reluctant understanding, understanding to something that might have been embarrassment.
“I...” She swallowed hard, wincing. “Ye saved me?”
“Aye.”
“From the water?”
“Aye.”
A beat of silence. Then her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How?”
Erik’s jaw tightened. He’d hoped she wouldn’t ask. “The old ways. We breathe warmth intae the drowned. Returns theAndi—the breath of life.”
Her face went through several interesting colors. “Ye…breathed intaeme?”
“Aye.”
“Intae me… mouth?”
“Where else would I breathe, woman? Yer ear?” Despite himself, his lips twitched. “Though with the way ye were sputterin’, I wasnae sure it would make much difference.”
Her eyes went wide with outrage and—was that a flush? “Ye… ye kissed me while I was unconscious!”
