Her hands slap uselessly at the stone walls, fingernails scraping over the grime like she could claw her way out through solid rock.
I grab her shoulders, but she’s trembling so hard I fear her teeth will rattle right out of her head. “Hey—look at me.”
“I can’t—I can’t do this again. I can’t die like this.” Her voice cracks on the last words and I can feel it. That moment where something inside her folds . . . gives up.
For a split second, I’m shocked. This is not the pirate I’ve come to know. One so fierce and capable thatshe laughs while covered in monster gore. Wields weapons like she was born in a war. Sometimes I wonder if she was.
Tears stream down her face, too many for me to wipe away. I grab her wrists and tug her towards me, wrapping and arm around her waist. “You listen here, little doe. I told you I would get us out, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”
The cold water hits her ribs. Her lips are going blue. She tries to pull from my embrace, pressing back against the wall like she’s trying to escape into it, eyes wide and glassy, fixed on nothing. And I know, if I don’t snap her out of this now, she’ll be gone before the water even wins, so I pull her closer.
“Odelia.” I command her attention with my voice, but her gaze can’t meet mine as a sob escapes her lips.
Without thought I shift as the water reaches her chin. I have to convince her to calm down so we can get through this. “There is a current below. I saw a doorway beneath us. We can swim through.”
She shakes her head, small and frantic, the movement brushing her wet hair against my jaw.
I press my forehead to hers, forcing her to feel my steadiness. “It’s the only way.”
Another sob shudders out of her, the sound barely louder than the water lapping at her mouth. Our heads press against the ceiling. “Rune—”
“Do you trust me?”
The pause stretches, heavy as lead in my chest. Her breathing is fast, shallow, gulping at the last pocket of air. Then, finally, she nods, crumbling. The cry that slips out ofher is raw, the kind that rattles bone, and the water catches it, air leaving her in a burst of bubbles as it surges over our heads.
Her fingers clamp around my forearms like a lifeline, nails biting into my scales. Her eyes widen, and for a heartbeat, I don’t see the pirate with a sharp tongue and steel spine. I see a woman trembling against me, every ounce of fight tangled with fear, trusting me with her last breath.
So—fuck it. I do the only thing that makes sense.
I frame her face with both hands, pull her to me, and seal my mouth over hers.
BREATHE WITH ME
20
ODELIA
The ice of my limbs turns to flame in an instant. The cold gives way to glorious heat, spearing through my chest, rising hot in the skin of my neck, sinking deep into the very marrow of my bones. I’m on fire. Melting beneath the touch of his hands and the warmth of his body. The water disappears. The keys. The map.
I’m drowning. Distantly, the animal is screaming that I’m drowning.
But his mouth is locked on mine, strangely gentle despite the way his long fin loops around my waist and legs like a serpent, dragging me closer, pinning me still. He traces the tip of his tongue over the seam of my lips, annihilating any half-formed objection the fear in me tries to grip.
I’ve been touched before, need sated in the shadow of apathetic alleyways, unwelcome thoughts silenced by the quiet that comes with a rough hand and a willing neck. But this . . . I don’t have words for this.
I’m aching. Close to tears for simple, gentle closeness. For the plump of his lips and the way he clings, like he hasn’t considered letting go.
When his fingers tighten, when they thread into my tangled hair, when his tongue pushes my lips apart, filling me with a taste like stormlight, I give in.
The sun is gone. The soil won’t sing for me again. The ocean will win at last, but I’ve traded my final breath to be here, rooted in nameless feeling.
Time stops, an eternity between now and the inevitable crush of suffocation.
I’ll die here.
Instead, heexhales.
My chest inflates with borrowed breath, and then we’re moving, flying through endless dark. Adrenaline rekindles in the pins and needles that assault my hands. Inertia drags all the blood towards my limbs. I can’t see, but I can feel how fast we’re going, forced to tuck my face into his chest to stop the pressure of the water from ripping open my eyelids and still-tingling lips.
