Even my brothers look shocked, not one saying a word as they step aside to let me pass.
I carry Sora toward the main cabin, whispering soft assurances to her as I try to calm her violent trembling.
“Shh,” I soothe softly as I walk, and her sobs slowly die down as she tries to pull herself together, but she keeps her face buried against my chest, her cheek icy against my wet skin.
“I’m s–so cold,” she stutters, her arms clinging to my neck.
“I know,” I assure her, snagging a towel from the back of a chair as I take her to the bedroom.
Kicking the door closed behind us, I cross the room to kneel and set her gently on the edge of the bed. Then I wrap the towel around her shoulders, not caring if the sheets get wet as I sit beside her and pull her back into my arms. She huddles closer, her teeth chattering as she tries to soak up my warmth, and I hook my arm around her knees to drag her onto my lap.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” I murmur, holding her close. “I’m so sorry.”
“W–Why are y–you s–sorry?” she stutters, tipping her chin up to look at me through her teary lashes.
Her lips are still a slight shade of blue, and I’m worried she might be hypothermic. Not that the water is too cold for swimming—my brothers and I were diving in before. But the shock might be too much for her system.
“I promised that you wouldn’t have to swim,” I say, gut clenching as I think about our conversation beforehand. She told me she wasn’t a good swimmer. I never should have let her out of my sight.
Sora releases a shaky laugh that ends in a coughing fit that racks her entire body. Guilt rips through me once more as I hold her tightly, trying to keep her in one piece.
She’s still shaking, despite the towel wrapped around her, and I rub her arms briskly to create friction, wanting to bring her temperature up. A hot bath would be most effective, but the thought of leaving her—even for a moment—feels unbearable.
“You saved me, Leo,” she whispers, her arms tightening around her waist, pulling her towel closer as she nestles against my chest. “I thought I was going to die down there, but you came for me. I don’t know that anyone else would have.”
The confession rips at my chest, and I want to vehemently deny it because I can’t imagine anyone standing by and watching Sora die. But then I think of Kenji. He didn’t just stand by—he threw her in.Fury licks through my core like fire, and if I weren’t so concerned for Sora’s welfare at this moment, I would have half a mind to throw him overboard and tell the captain to draw anchor.
“I’ll always come for you,” I promise instead, and as Sora sniffles, I press my lips to the crown of her head once more.
That reminds me of my concern when I found her unconscious beneath the water. Keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her, I lean my head back to search her scalp as I gently comb through her hair with my fingers.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“You were unconscious when I found you. Did you hit your head?”
“No, I—not that I remember,” she says, looking up at me with a frown. “I just swallowed too much water, and then my vision went dark.”
A violent shiver ripples down her spine, and I pull her closer, but I don’t stop searching for signs of a lump or cut. Even if she doesn’t remember, the boat might have hit her after she passed out. But after a thorough search, it would seem she isn’t hurt. Still, she continues to tremble, and my concern grows when I check her fingertips to find they’re tinged the same purplish blue as her lips.
I need to bring her body temperature back up.
27
SORA
“W–What are you doing?” I ask, my heart rate skyrocketing inexplicably as Leo gently moves me back off his lap and onto the bed.
“I think you’re in shock. We need to warm you up, and my body heat is not getting the job done,” he says, his dark eyes worried as they meet mine. “I’m just going to start the shower.”
A hot shower sounds heavenly right about now, and I nod as I pull the towel tighter around me. But as soon as he walks away, a sense of panic starts to rise inside me. I know it’s irrational. I realize logically that I’m safe now. But that doesn’t make the anxiety any less overpowering, and as soon as Leo vanishes through the door to the bathroom, I’m up off the bed, following him.
My legs are like jelly, my ankles wobbling precariously on my wedge heels, and I brace a hand on the bed to bend down and unbuckle them. The world spins wildly around me, but I manage to stay upright as I brace against the bed, taking deep breathsuntil the ground stops moving nearly as much. Then I kick the shoes away from me and pad barefoot to the bathroom door.
Leo’s back is to me, his tapestry of tattoos standing out against his olive skin as his muscles ripple across his shoulders. The hiss of water leaving the shower head makes me jump, and I bite back a gasp as I focus on admiring my husband in his swim trunks. Leo turns when he hears me, and worry creases his dark brow.
“You weren’t supposed to follow me,” he objects, closing the distance between us to wrap an arm around my waist. “You look half-dead on your feet.”
“Thanks. You look beautiful yourself,” I say, sagging against his side.
