Page 118 of Wicked Sea and Sky

Her breath was soft against my throat, a steady rhythm that threatened to undo me. But what else was new? Everything she did threatened to do that.

I wrapped my arm around her, afraid that if I didn’t hold tight enough, she’d disappear.

She almost had.

Just hours ago, she’d stopped breathing, dark magic trying to keep her from finding the shard. If we hadn’t walked through the bog, if I hadn’t thought of the steam…

I couldn’t go there.

My mind simply refused to imagine anything that wasn’t Marin healthy, in my arms—mine.

And I’d tried to stay calm. She needed that from me. But I would never forget the way my hands shook as I placed the water over the fire and waited.

The wait.

It was chilling. A darkness I hadn’t felt since she slipped through my fingers and fell into the sea. But even then, brutal as it was, it had been quick. A moment of shock leaving me dazed.

This was slow.

Pure torture.

This time, I had to watch. Hear her breath fade to nothing. Count every second, knowing that she was the only thing that mattered to me, and I might not win.

I never wanted to be that helpless again.

But Marin had fought, like she had before, like she always did, impressing me around every corner. I hadn’t expected that story when I asked her to tell me one. But she gave it to me anyway. Every word, every wound she endured. And I needed to hear it.

Along with those words she repeated. Again and again. Because I made her. Because some part of me still couldn't believe she truly meant them. That she wanted me the same way I wanted her.

Marin stirred and nuzzled her face into my throat, her lips sharing a sleepy murmur against my skin. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, burying my fingers in her silken hair, and breathed her in.

“Good morning,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering open.

“It’s still dark.”

“That’s even better.” Marin frowned faintly, like she'd surprised herself. “Huh, didn't think I'd ever say that about the dark. Not after Saltgrave.”

Her voice softened. “Figures, though. You steal everything else, why not my fear too?”

I went still for a breath, gutted in all the right ways. A thiefthrough and through, if it meant stealing the dark.

Her fingers raked over the thick stubble covering my jaw. I kissed her knuckles when they reached my lips.

“I should shave it off.”

She didn't pull away. As if she liked the rough edges. The wreckage. The darker parts of me born from wanting her.

“Don’t you dare. Mysterious, brooding Gavin is my favorite.”

“All of my sides are pretty great. Especially my back—”

Her eyes flared. “Don’t finish that sentence!”

I grinned. “I’m nothing if not accommodating. Besides…” Tilting her chin up to mine, I brushed my mouth over hers. “I’d rather kiss you instead.”

When one of her breathy moans hit my ears, I pulled her closer—rougher than I meant to. And gods, I was gifted with a sharper whimper of need.

That sound.I wasn’t going to be able to start or end my day without it. I wasn’t even sure how I’d lasted this long.