And again.
Ten feet. Five.
Blood teased the back of my throat, and when rain started falling again—heavier this time—my arms trembled. I tried to drive my weight forward to make it easier, but when I reached for the rope this time I missed, and my surprised cry made Darcke snap straight.
Gasps mingled with the merry shouts.
When I looked down, I could make out Rakkel’s and Fedic’s terrified faces, and Viljan’s blanched one behind them. But it was Kilia’s arched brows and wide eyes, which shifted into something far more sinister when his eyes found mine, that made me cough from the burn in my throat.
Panicked, I tried to propel myself forward again. With the same outcome.
“Stop playing and pull yourself up,” Darcke barked.
I used more leverage, but my strength had waned entirely, and my fingers only barely brushed the rope.
“Pullyourself up.”
I can’t.
He moved forward on the lookout.
So close but so fucking far it might as well been Hel.
“Pull. Yourself. Up.”
A sound I’d never made before left me as I tried again, but it was futile. I was almost not able to hold on with my left hand anymore, the fingers on it long since numb from the cold. The sky opened at that time, and it filled my mouth when I laughed. The gods must have been thoroughly entertained by now.
“Heir,” Darcke called, but I didn’t even acknowledge him.
This is how you want me to go? Before everyone?
I shut my eyes when my hand fell useless to my side, the rope quivering beneath the one I still held on with.
Then I was in the air, something hard wrapping around my wrist, but I was not falling like I’d expected. Instead I moved upward, and I was slammed against something soft and hard at the same time. When I realized it was Darcke’s body, I tried to fly backward, but the rope around me didn’t allow it and only fused us harder together.
He shook his head. “Fucking showoff.”
“Let me go,” I snarled, trying to push off his chest.
“This was not my choice.” His face turned to the mast. “You can let her go now, thanks,” he growled to the ship.
She only creaked in response, and when another bout of rain that felt like being drenched beneath a waterfall fell atop us, the rope tightened.
“What the fuck?” Darcke’s arms were stuck against his sides, and his face filled with a look of cold betrayal. “What are you doing?”
Screams started beneath us when the ship did nothing against the tall waves, and the vessel pulled at the others when she heeled, her hull licking the ocean.
“Stop, right now,” Darcke ordered. “I’m serious.”
She heeled again, sending my forehead into Darcke’s chin. His arms instinctively went around me, and I arched backward as far as I could, my top lip curling.
“Stop touching me,” I snarled.
“I’m fucking trying.”
Another wave hit, and more shouts of fear rose across the decks when we moved the other way. I slid backward until the wall of the lookout bit into my back and Darcke was pressed against my front, so close I could count every muscle lining his torso if I wished. Which I did not.
As I opened my mouth to say as much, a silent warning sparked through the air. I closed my lips again, and the tension coiling around us softened.
