7
I watched him swim toward the tree, where he had hung the rope and his dagger’s sheath from the branches extending above the water. Then, I turned back to the approaching storm.
Where did it come from?
I knew storms could develop quickly over open seas. However, similar to the Lake Caran flood, I felt there was something unusual about those darkening clouds.
Something filled with evil.
“Are you going to help me or what?”
The human’s arrogance snapped me out of my thoughts, and I hardly had time to shoot him a withering look before he took a deep breath, dove with the rope in his hand, and moved to the other side of the tree.
I could leave.
I had to leave.
Rain and choppy seas were nothing to me. I expected to be home in two or three days, maybe sooner. I needed to start swimming, and once the storm subsided, I would rely on the stars at night to determine my direction.
Instead, I remained where I was, afloat, unable to bear the thought of leaving the soldier to the storm’s fury.
Calling myself an idiot, I went back to the tree and helped him wrap the rope around it as the water began to ripple. He returned to my side, and we tied the remaining ends of the rope around our waists.
A small wave caught us off guard, initially pushing him against me and then gently slamming us against the tree.
I found myself squeezed between the tree and the human. His body swung against mine. His legs moved between mine, causing our knees to bump accidentally. We were so close that his chest kept brushing against mine, and the thought that he might feel my hard nipples made me blush with embarrassment.
His gaze got under my skin, so deeply that I could feel its hold around my pounding heart, its intensity making it hard to breathe steadily.
I couldn’t stop staring at him.
And he wouldn’t stop gazing at me as if he wanted to devour me.
Suddenly, I felt his fingers on my ribs. I took a sharp breath, stiffening. His expression darkened, his burning eyes challenging me to stop him as his hand moved down on my hip.
But I didn’t do anything.
I had never been touched like that before—so confidently and deliberately. It was overwhelming and unsettled me.
Because I wanted more.
Much more.
I wanted his touch to be rougher.
I wanted it everywhere.
His mouth slightly lifted to one side, and, in an instant, he pulled out my dagger and forcefully pushed it into the wood, just inches from my head.
My brow pinched.
His smirk grew a bit wider. “Relax, Elf.”
He stared at my lips for a moment too long, then swam away to fetch his dagger.
I exhaled sharply, slightly panting, and relished the wave that slapped my heated face.
The soldier returned, stuck his weapon next to mine, and delivered fierce strikes at both ends of the hilts, causing the blades to pierce deeply into the tree. Then he grabbed his dagger and jerked his cunning gaze toward my weapon.
I glared at him, then held onto my weapon tightly.
Rain started pouring heavily, turning torrential in an instant. Large waves began to rise and crash against the tree. Lightning and thunder tore through the thick clouds, so low that they appeared to loom over us.
The fierce currents grabbed the tree, spinning it continuously. The waves crashed around it, submerging it again before we could catch our breath.
And rather than gripping his dagger with both hands, that foolish human attempted to wrap an arm around my waist to keep me close, believing I needed his help to endure the water hell we were in.
Therefore, when a wave hit us with full force, his fingers slipped off the hilt.
But my hand found him at once.
I grasped his forearm and pulled him up, guiding him back to his dagger so he could grab it again as he coughed and gasped. Then, I seized his tunic collar, pressing him against the tree.
“Stop trying to protect me!” I shouted in his face to break through the loud whistle of the wind and the roar of the sea. “I’m stronger than you.”
I wrapped my legs around his hips and moved his hand away from his dagger to replace it with mine. Imprisoned in my arms, he looked at me as if I had lost my mind, then a ravenous spark flashed in his eyes when I tightened my thighs to keep the currents from pulling him away.
“Bind yourself to me,” I told him, glancing at the rope around my waist. “ I will protect you.”
For the tiniest sliver of a moment, I thought I saw anger shadow his face.
Then he reached for my rope. It took a while because the water had made the knot I’d tied even tighter, the waves battered us from all sides, and the rain blinded us.
When he finally managed to untie it, he wrapped the rope around our waists, pressing our abdomens together.
Then he attached the remaining length of my rope to his.
We were once again terribly close. Holding the daggers, I loomed a few inches above him. My long hair fell over my face, forming a sort of curtain that shielded us from the storm.
He lifted his arms from the water and clasped his large hands over mine, as if to reinforce my hold on the hilts.
His eyes locked onto mine.
And they never once left them.