18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Those Damned Legs
KYROS
What have I done?
I stare at the ceiling, listening to Sadie breathe. It’s finally slowed and steadied out with sleep. About damned time.
I keep my hands folded over my chest and my eyes fixed firmly on the algae above our heads. My bed isn’t small. I’ve slept here comfortably for years, but tonight it feels impossibly cramped.
Every movement Sadie makes sends a current across my skin, and every exhale draws her scent through the water.
It’s so sweet.
By the depths.
I hate this.
Sadie shifts again, and my jaw tightens.
I should leave. There are dozens of empty chambers throughout the estate, and nobody would’ve questioned me putting Sadie up in one. I don’t know why I brought her here. It was a mistake.
Sadie exhales softly and rolls onto her side, toward me. A few strands of her dark hair drift across her face, swaying gently with the movement of the water. I stare at them, then lose the battle with myself and look at her face.
There’s a faint crease between her eyebrows. Even asleep, she looks annoyed. She’s still pretty, though.
I stare at her for a dangerous amount of time before forcing myself to look back at the ceiling. This is pathetic. I’m Oshea.
Leader of Tideborn.
Protector of my people.
Yet here I am losing a battle with a sleeping woman. A sleeping woman with legs, no less.
Sadie shifts again, the back of her hand grazing my arm. My markings flicker as I squeeze my eyes shut, doing my best to ignore her.
I want to touch her. I want to brush those strands of hair away from her face. I want to know if her skin is as warm as I remember. Human women shouldn’t feel so different from Mer women, but Sadie does.
My gaze drifts toward her before I can stop it, and my markings flicker again. The thin fabric of her clothing clings to the curve of her hip and the length of her leg. Legs.
I still can’t get over the damned legs.
I want—
No.
I force the thought away.
Sadie is temporary. Once the siphon is destroyed and the Great Current returns, I’ll bring her to the surface. She’ll leave, and I’ll never see her again. That’s how this ends.
That’s how she wants this to end.
I murdered her father, for current’s sake. She’s going to spend the rest of her life fantasizing about my death, and I don’t blame her.
Why did she even agree to help? I don’t understand it.
I ruined her life and trapped her in a pod full of strangers who openly debate her execution.
Most people would’ve chosen themselves. Sadie has every reason to, yet she looked at that little girl she’d never met and agreed to risk her life for us.
Humans aren’t supposed to be like that. They’re curious. Resourceful. Destructive.
But brave? Not really.
The siphon sits in one of the most dangerous stretches of ocean I’ve ever seen, and I’ve made no attempt to hide that fact from Sadie. She knows about the pressure shifts and the deepweavers, but she’s still agreed to help.
She’s just as stupid as she is stubborn.
She makes a small sound in her sleep and curls slightly inward, making herself small. Something unpleasant twists in my chest. She doesn’t look brave right now. She looks small.
Fragile.
How would she look if I touched her? If I wound my hands into the dark strands of her hair and covered her warm body with my own. Would she push me away? Would she let me?
I swallow, my throat dry.
A single stretch of my fingers. That’s all it would take to touch her.
My hand twitches.
Sadie mutters something unintelligible and wrinkles her nose, and I finally find the strength to turn away, rolling onto my side. I’m losing control of this situation.