Page 164 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

At some point, I witness the belly of Darkwater sinking beyond us, bodies floating around it. The captain’s quarters submerges into the ocean, slowly descending into the darkness, the entirety of that ship now destined to become one with the ocean floor.

The masts of the Darkwater are the last thing I see before the glowing orbs around the sirens are all that’s left for light, the fires completely gone.

When they seem to be finished, Melona connects her gaze with mine. “Jane’s wound is incredibly delicate. It holds well underwater, but above, she will need to remain nearly completely still for almost a week.” She nods as one of the sirens hands me a canvas bag, which moves in slow motion compared to the creatures of the ocean. “In there are vials that will keep her barely conscious, just enough to drink water and maybe even eat. A human healer will need to care for her after.”

“It will be done,” I say.

They let me near Jane, and I hold her against my body as the sirens hook ropes under my arms to pull us to Storm’s Fury. I hold her close enough that she’s firmly affixed to me, but not so close that my abrasive armor will dig into her exposed skin. Her hair streams behind to reveal her sleeping face while we’re being pulled.

Slowly—barely—I begin to accept I somehow survived.

With Jane.

J A N E

I’m so lost when I crack open crusty eyelids.

I first note the dryness of the bed I lie in, compared to the rains. Did I… did I dream everything? I clearly cannot be dead, for my body achesfartoo much. It’s as if I got trampled on by a hundred horse hooves.

My neck is stiff as I barely move my head, staring out a window for a very long time, mindlessly watching a puffy cloud. Peaceful, golden rays beam through, my eyes moving to watchthe floating particles in the air. My mind is absolutely blank, as if I knowthisis the dream, and I don’t want to awaken.

Inhaling deeply, I whimper and lift my hand as if to touch my chest, but eventhathurts. Breathing is also surprisingly painful, like each breath is dragging broken glass inside of my chest.

My lungs.

The ship.

My heart rate increases as I swiftly examine the small room I’m in—all of my concerns disappear when I spot Soren in the corner. He has a blackened eye, a new, deep cut on his lower lip and jaw, and bandages cross over his body underneath his loose tunic. His dark, grimy hair is pulled back.

His legs are spread as he sleeps, a hand on either armrest while his head leans against the wall behind him.

I’m too afraid to move—what if that breaks this dream? I nearly start to cry at the idea that I’m actually dead; does that mean he’s dead, too?

His eyes suddenly shoot open, revealing the crystal clarity as he blinks and lowers his gaze to me, not moving anything else. He blinks multiple more times before recognition comes to his eyes, one of them bloodshot, and he leans forward while trying to cover a painful grimace. “Jane,” he says with that gravelly voice I love.

I can’t help myself.

I crumble.

Tears flow, which morph into crying from pain as my chestburns. Soren comes forward, pulling me into his thick, strong arms. I start clinging to him out of pure joy, laughing and crying more.

Sometimes, I shudder and groan from how much it all aches and burns.

He holds me so tenderly I could melt, like I’m being embraced by love incarnate. “Careful. Your lung took a lot ofdamage. Some might be permanent. The sirens healed what they could, and there’s no other healer on board.”

“I’m so sorry about Anya,” is the first thing I say. I pull back, prodding at my neck. “Her necklace.”

“It’s safe. It was around your neck, and one of the sirens took it off. I found it in a bag they gave me.” He pulls me back in and gently kisses my head. “You’re safe, Jane?—”

“You came for me.”

This man is now lodged so deeply within my heart, I don’t ever want to know a world where he doesn’t exist. There’s something that burns between us that’s brighter than anything I can explain, this love and gratitude so vast I nearly want to burst.

“Of course, I did,” he answers.

For a while, we just sit there like this, leaning my full weight against him as I learn the rhythm of his beating heart. The faint thudding means I’m utterly safe. It’s the sound ofhome.

“The others? What happened to everyone? My dad?” I ask when I realize they must have been there, too. “The other Cinders…”