Page 17 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

The engine strains against the current as the shoreline appears far in the distance, too far to reach safely. The wind howls louder, rain hammers the ocean until visibility disappears almost instantly. I grip the wheel harder, refusing to let go.

"Come on," I growl through clenched teeth.

The boat slams against another wave, wood groaning as the hull shudders beneath me. Lightning tears across the sky, and for a brief moment, blue light illuminates the storm clouds above. Something moves within them, vanishing before I can identify what I've seen, and my pulse spikes at the sight. The storm tightens around me like a noose, like a trap closing in from every side.

A massive wave rises ahead of the boat, and my stomach drops at the sight of it. The wall of water towers above the vessel, impossible and unnatural in its size. I try to turn the boat away, but it is already too late.

The wave crashes into me with the force of a building collapsing, wood splintering as the world flips beneath me.

Then everything becomes water.

Freezing darkness swallows me whole, the force driving me deeper as my shoulder slams into something hard. Pain explodes through my body, but I kick upward anyway, fighting a current that drags me sideways with every attempt. Another wave crashes overhead, and my lungs burn as I force myself higher, the surface appearing and disappearing in the same breath. The sea refuses to let go of me, a violent current wrapping around my legs—pulling, dragging, demanding.

I break through the surface long enough to gasp, though air barely reaches my lungs before another wave crashes into me. Saltwater floods my mouth, my throat, my chest, and I cough violently as the ocean answers by shoving me back under.

Darkness surrounds me, pressure crushing from every direction as the water keeps coming without mercy. Every attempt to rise ends with another wave slamming me back down, and my muscles begin to weaken beneath the relentless assault. The wolf fights. So do I. But the sea is far more relentless than either of us.

The current twists around me as the storm roars above, my lungs burning hotter with every passing second.

I need air. I need⁠—

Another wave strikes before I can finish the thought, water pouring into my lungs as agony tears through my chest. My vision blurs, the darkness growing heavier as the ocean drags me deeper still. The surface becomes distant, unreachable, the last of my strength slipping away with every second that passes.

Suddenly since entering the storm, real fear takes hold of me—not fear of drowning, but fear that no one will ever know what happened out here. My body sinks further into the dark, and just as it closes in completely, I feel it.

Heat.

A sudden burst of warmth ignites inside my chest, bright and impossible and alive, spreading through me like fire burning beneath the sea.

And for one impossible moment, the darkness recoils.

7

REINA

The feeling hits me so hard that I nearly drop the lantern, freezing halfway across the lighthouse balcony as the ocean stretches beyond the cliffs, dark and restless beneath a ceiling of heavy clouds. Wind lashes against my coat, carrying salt and rain across my face, and something inside me twists in warning.

Something is wrong. Not wrong in the way the failing wards are wrong, and not wrong in the way the recent storms feel unnatural—this is different. Urgent. Sharp. Like a hook sinking straight into my chest.

I grip the railing as the sensation intensifies, a pulse and then another rolling toward me from far offshore, and my stomach twists at the thought that follows. Someone is out there. I don't know how I know it, only that I do, and the sea is screaming loud enough that I can't pretend otherwise.

I race for the stairs, the lantern swinging wildly from my hand as I descend, my pulse pounding when I reach the base of the lighthouse. The wind grows stronger with every step, the ocean louder, and whatever is happening offshore is getting worse fast.

I break into a run, the cliff path blurring beneath my feet as loose stones scatter behind me on my way toward the harbor. People turn to stare, though I barely notice them—the feeling in my chest leaves room for nothing else. Someone is dying. The certainty settles deeper with every step I take.

As I reach the docks, a familiar voice calls my name.

"Reina," Gideon says, crossing the harbor toward me with his expression shifting the moment he sees my face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"No," I say, shaking my head.

"What happened?" he questions.

I glance at the water, the answer leaving my mouth before I can soften it. "Something is offshore."

His frown deepens. "What kind of something?"

"I don't know," I admit, frustration rising because I have no proof to offer him—only instinct, only magic, only a feeling so powerful it feels impossible to ignore. "I can feel interference."