Page 75 of Inked Athena

He groans, clutching his side. I lean in and place my palm over his. “Are you hurt?”

“Tired.” He coughs up more water. “Sore.”

“Good.” I pinch his hand hard enough that he yanks it away.

“Blyat’,woman. Have some mercy.”

“You’re lucky I don’t leave you here after what you just did!”

Around us, the rain has begun to slow. The wind sighs and eases, too. Sam forces himself up to a seat. His wet shirt clings to every muscle on his body. What does it say about me that, even under the circumstances, I’m not above noticing?

“You didn’t have to come in after me,” Samuil remarks to his best friend stiffly. “I had the situation under control.”

Myles scowls. “You did, did you? What were you planning on doing? Soaking up the lake like you did that bottle of scotch?”

“I didn’t need your help with either task.”

Myles’s eyes gleam like the last of the lightning rattling over our heads. Not that anyone seems to be paying attention to the storm anymore. We might as well be standing in front of a roaring fireplace for all the concern the men give our current surroundings.

“Maybe I’ll push you back in then,” Myles snaps.

“And waste all your effort? You worked hard to get me out.”

“I didn’t do it for you, you self-important bastard,” Myles spits. “I did it for Nova and the child she’s carrying. Because, despite what you might believe, I care about them.”

“I know that.”

“You have a funny fucking way of showing it.”

My gaze bounces between the two men as I try to decide if I should jump between them or let them brawl it out.

Samuil rises, then sways on his feet, tottering a step closer to Myles. His hand darts out for balance on Myles’s shoulder, but it’s not in anger. Then he sighs and squeezes. “Don’t leave.”

Raindrops pelt Myles’s face, but he doesn’t so much as blink. His jaw is working overtime, but whether to hold back emotion or anger, I can’t say.

Then Myles clasps a matching hand on Samuil’s shoulder. “As if you could get rid of me that fucking easily.”

All at once, the tension dissolves.

Samuil pulls Myles into a hug, and Myles slaps him hard on the back. I’m glad it’s still raining gently, because it hides the tears running down my cheeks.

I shake my head at the both of them. “Boys. The most incomprehensible species on this planet.”

Samuil smirks, offering me his hand. The moment I slip my fingers through his, he pulls me into the hug, too.

We’re all soaking wet and chilled to the bone, but I feel warm all the same.

We stand there in a tangled embrace, the three of us, while the storm whimpers and recedes. Through my palm pressed against his chest, I feel Samuil’s heart beating—strong and steady now, like it never stopped. Like it never could stop, not while he has people to come back to. People who won’t let him drift away.

“Next time you feel like testing the loch’s patience,” I murmur against his wet shirt, “remember this moment. Remember what you almost lost.”

Samuil’s arm tightens around me. “I remember,” he says roughly. Then, so quietly I almost miss it: “I’m sorry.”

Above us, Myles snorts. “You can prove it by giving me a raise.”

“Technically, I haven’t rehired you yet.”

“Technically, you still owe me a new suit. This one’s ruined.”

---