Chapter 20
brEATHE WITH ME
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, he exhales.
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.
He kissed me.
In the moment before he saved my life, he’d kissed me and there’s no way he’ll admit to it. I can see the infuriating smile already. “You’re always so hopeful, Odelia.”
My lungs burn, refusing me the time to stoke the irritation.
The water’s pressure is still painful in my ears.
There’s no telling how close we are to surfacing.
I push against him as the pain in my lungs increases.
He relents, slowing, and loosens the cage of his arms, making me grapple for him as I feel myself start to drift.
His hands move to my waist, warm, strong, the sudden, sweet bite of his talons taking the whole of my attention for a split moment.
I clench my teeth hard against the need to breathe. Ocean water burns my eyes as I try to communicate what I need.
“Again so soon, savage thing?” His voice is a melody in the water, its vibrations kissing along the exposed parts of my skin.
My breasts tighten under their wrap, but I don’t have time to wait for his teasing.
I slide my hands up his arms and around his neck, pulling myself up so my lips meet his. I can feel his smile.
This man will be my undoing.
Despite the fact that I’ve braced myself, the first brush of his tongue threatens to empty my mind again—empty all of me, so that I might beg him to fill me again.
My lips part, my own tongue darting out to meet his as our mouths seal together.
He tastes almost the way he smells, like citrus and the intense silence that follows thunder in an ocean storm.
My chest begs for relief as we explore each other. His hands stay gripped tight, but I lock my legs around his hips, pulling us closer, tangling my fingers in his hair. At some point, it lost its tie and floats around his head, slipping like silk under my touch.
For better or worse, neither of us will be able to lie about what this is.
When I still, he breathes into me again, then pulls away. “I think it’s just on the other side.” His voice sends goosebumps over my arms. The hair on the back of my neck stands in anticipation. “Let’s try to get there while you still have the strength to resist me.”
The water slows my punch towards his chest, the fabric of my sleeve billowing between us and brushing my face in a way that sends another wave of anxiety through me. Then we’re flying again—down, if the pressure in my ears is any indication. In an instant, we twist again, moving up.
Then break into open air.
I drag in a desperate breath, my lungs filling to the point of relieved pain. The room is dim, lit by spiderwebbed cracks high in the rock above. We’re almost to the surface.
But the room is full of water.
Not drowned in it, but surrounded on all sides. The platform before us is a hand’s width higher than a cavern lake.
“Here.” His voice doesn’t have the same ethereal quality as it did under the water. He ushers us to the platform, urging me to pull myself up. The effort asks for more strength than I have left, but I do, collapsing on the hard stone, sucking in deep lungfuls of wet air.
“I feel a current. I’m going to check it out, but I’ll be right back.”
My throat is raw, strangling my voice. “What if you don’t come back?”
“I’ll come back, little doe.”
Then he’s gone.
My body still hums, heart racing for his touch and how death came so near I could feel the brush of her fingers. I wait.
Strange sounds edge in on the silence. Dripping that echoes, clicks, rumbles I can’t name. No doubt there are creatures hiding in the water—hungry fish, perhaps even the toad creatures—but I couldn’t move if I wanted to, every part of me weighted to the cold stone at my back.
I startle when Rune surfaces, but my hand only lifts pathetically for my dagger and falls over my stomach.
His grin of sharp teeth is radiant in the half-light. “I found it.”
“Found what?” The apprehension flares wild in my stomach.
“The way out. Come on.”
I’m already shaking my head, feeling the rock beneath it as hot tears slip down my temples to itch in my ears.
“I can’t Rune, not again.” I can’t go back to the insistent press of the water—dark, patient, waiting for my surrender.
The fear claws up my throat, like it’s already taken me.
Maybe if we wait long enough, the water will recede.
Maybe it would be better to die here, rather than move towards that watery, inevitable end.
His voice is too patient. “There’s no other choice, Odi. We’re getting out of here. Both of us. And when we get back I’ll make sure Otto rewards you with quail eggs five ways. I won’t even let Tavi take any.”
Tavi. Had she stayed with Elio, or taken a tunnel? Did she make it out, did anyone?
I let my head fall sideways to look at Rune. There’s so much determined hope on his face, but the worry shows in his eyes. We won’t know who survived until we get out of here. His crew is at stake, and here I am, being a shameless, useless coward.
“You should have let me die.” The words carry all the cold logic I can muster. Quietly, I wonder if he’d have saved Nisse too, or if he’d have let me drown if he knew the truth.
He smirks. “Feeling sorry for yourself, Viper? We’ve got two more keys to find—unless you want to cough up the riddles? Maybe then I’ll let the sea take you.”
I press my lips into a line, feeling the irritation crawl its way to the forefront of my jumbled feelings. “Do you immediately piss off all the girls you kiss?”
“Only the pretty ones.”
I huff a laugh, which turns to a sputtering cough. His gaze is steady as he reaches over the ledge, beckoning me closer.
“One more breath, and then it’s over.”
I nod, clench my teeth, then press all thought away so I have the willpower to force my aching body to roll towards him. I’m so cold I don’t feel the water as I slip in, though I can feel his warmth as he cradles me to his chest.
“Once we start, we won’t be able to stop,” I feel the breath of his words on my cheek, “so I need you to take a deep breath. On three, ready?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “One.”
My hands tremble where they grip around his neck. Just one more breath, and then it’s over.
“Two.”
I force my body to relax as I inhale, if only so my aching lungs can take in more air.
“Three.”
We plunge in and speed down, the pain in my ears growing until I’m certain they’ll pop.
He was right about the current. It’s heavy, the water rushing past even as we’re forced to slow.
It’s hard to tell if we’re making any progress.
The thought almost grips me, but I cling to him instead, unwilling to let the little air I have left be used for more panic.
I can feel the strain of his body, the way his muscles coil against the water. For a moment, I wonder if it will win, then we break free, the flow changing, the dark behind my eyelids growing lighter and lighter until we burst into the open air of a clear blue sky.
I gasp, sucking greedy lungfuls of non-stagnant air. We’re near the shore, the crew’s tents visible far in the distance. The Gilded Hart waits down the way, gorgeous as ever.
Soon, Rune is walking us towards the shore, his fin turning to legs before I realise he’s shifted. His arms are warm, his chest solid, but shivers wrack my spine as a breeze kisses my wet clothes. Not even the sun can warm the kind of chill that’s settled in my bones.
The calm of the island is jarring compared to the chaos we’ve left below.
Insects chitter and voices of the crew already call out, relieved to see Rune unharmed.
I expect him to put me down once they see us, once his steps begin to splash in the shallows, but he pins me to him when I move, quietly refusing to let go until we’re far, far beyond the reach of the tide.