Page 36

Not safe. Not safe. Not safe.

Mer snapped, her reality blurring when he came closer.

No one would touch her ever again without her consent.

She launched from the tub and tackled the king, water spraying everywhere. Raziel grunted and stumbled backward with the force of her attack. They crashed through the flimsy front door of the tiny little house, wood splintering everywhere.

She hissed as they hit the ground hard.

The king rolled quickly on top of her, rocks digging into her spine.

Mer wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed as hard as she could.

Raziel huffed and pushed up on his hands and knees before curling his hand around the back of her head and dropping his full weight on her, slamming her against the sand.

Mer wheezed, the air knocked from her lungs. Panic coursed through her at being pinned down. She bucked, yelling while managing to wedge her arms underneath his armpits. She released her legs and tossed him up over her head.

She scrambled to her feet as the king rolled to his own. The wind picked up, chilling her bare form. He locked eyes on her and settled back into a defensive pose.

Raziel waved his hand at her, baring his teeth. “You want to fight? You want to take your anger out on me? Let me have it but know this is your one chance to be rid of me. After this, you become mine.”

She saw red.

Mer attacked, charging under his right arm and trying to swipe his legs out from underneath him. He leaped over her leg and spun, catching her round the throat. It wasn’t right for someone so large to be so graceful.

She lifted her left elbow and slammed it into his forearm, breaking his hold. His hair hung loose, so she managed to grab a handful and yanked. Hard.

He hissed, his head tilted back. “You fight dirty,” he gritted out, grabbing his scalp. “There’s no honor in that.”

Mer cackled, the sound unhinged in her own ears. She punched him in the stomach, which was more muscular than it had any right to be. “And there’s no honor in death.”

She squeaked when instead of trying to push her away he yanked her against his body and sank his hand into her hair, holding on tightly. Her panic rose again, and all she could see was Keventin’s face. Mer stepped hard on the top of his foot, but her bare foot did nothing.

He laughed, and her rage burned hotter. Mer jerked her knee upward and managed to unman him.

Immediately, his face creased in pain, and he doubled over before releasing her.

She kneed him in the face before kicking him squarely in the chest as he toppled backward toward the surf.

He managed to grab her arm, pulling her with him.

The couple tumbled into the dark surf, and he rolled until Mer lay in the water beneath him. Chills erupted along her body, and she panted, gills flaring open. Terror froze her in place. It was like that night all over again. Being helpless. Pinned.

She screamed, doubling her struggles.

Raziel’s face changed and blurred with her tears.

Sobs wracked her chest. “No.”

The pressure on her hips disappeared, and she found herself in the king’s arms. “Hush,” he rasped in her ear. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Mer used the last of her strength and managed to flip them until he was beneath her. The waves crashed over them, and Raziel spluttered, his pupils expanding as the Lure took effect. He blinked the water from his eyes, the long red strands of his hair plastered to his cheeks.

Her fists curled in his wet black shirt, shaking. His hands released her naked waist, and he held them out to his sides.

It would be so easy to drown him.

The Lure was taking over. He wouldn’t even feel it.

She stared down into his love-drunk face, time stilling. He no longer touched her. His body shook, and his jaw was clenched so tight. Was it the pain?

No. He was resisting the Lure. Fighting not to touch her.

Her heart cracked.

While he’d destroyed her world when he’d taken Ream’s life, the man beneath her didn’t deserve death. Any man who fought the Lure to protect a person from themselves was worth something. His death would not bring her peace but only more suffering.

Her knees had fallen onto either side of his thighs as the waves pushed past them. The silver of his eyes was nearly swallowed up by the black of his pupils, yet he still didn’t touch her.

A sob sputtered from her lips, and tears dripped down her face. “I hate this.”

She registered shouts in the distance. More chills erupted along her skin, and she cried harder. Raziel slowly sat up, leaning back on his hands, just watching her cry.

“People are coming,” he whispered. “We should go inside. Get you warm.”

The soft words undid her.

Mer threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

“I’m going to hug you,” he murmured. “Just tell me if I do something you don’t like.”

The king wrapped his arms around her tightly and ran his hands over her hair. He maneuvered onto his knees and rocked Mer gently. He skated a soothing hand over her spine and then stood. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he hitched her higher.

“Do you want to stay with the sea or go to bed?” he asked gently.

Another shiver wracked her. “Bed.”

He slogged out of the surf, through the sand, and into the house. Heat blanketed her back, and the sound of the crackling fire reached her ears.

“I’m going to set you down.” She untangled her legs, toes touching the warm wood floor. She wavered as he yanked the knitted blanket from the bottom of the bed and wrapped it around her naked body. “I’ll be right back.”

The king disappeared out the door and spoke in a low voice to someone. He rustled around outside and then brought in a tall piece of driftwood. Numbly she watched as he set it up as a makeshift door. Mer blinked slowly when he approached her and reached for the blanket.

“May I?” he asked.

She nodded, feeling outside her body.

Briskly, he toweled the remaining water from her body and then squeezed out the ends of her hair. Raziel took her hand and led her to the bed. A momentary blip of panic rose when he pulled back the covers, but he only tucked her in and pulled the comforter up to her chin.

Mer blinked up at him, shivering.

Slowly, he reached inside his wet shirt and pulled out her shell blade.

He placed it in her palm and curled Mer’s fingers around the handle. “So you feel safe.”

Tears once again fell from her eyes. She averted her gaze, staring at the fire, unable to voice her thanks.

He retrieved her blanket-turned-towel and moved to the bathing area. She registered the sound of wet clothes hitting the floor. Raziel returned to her view with the wet blanket wrapped around his waist. They stared at each other as he sat on the floor, then began to feed wood into the fire.

His dark red hair dripped water onto his chest that shined in the firelight. Mer studied the handsome man on the floor, noting bruises that were already starting to show.

Bruises she’d given him.

And yet, he’d still given her a blade after everything she’d done.

Maybe he wasn’t the monster she believed him to be.

Maybe . . . she was the monster.