Page 17 of Queen's Griffon

“Why did they attack?” she asked as she watched the crew grabbing corpses and heaving them over the side.

He shrugged. “Food, I assume. Now get your butt to your cabin. The storm’s about to get worse.”

She nodded. “Aye, captain.” In this, she wouldn’t argue. With the adrenaline wearing off, she shivered in her soaked garments.

As she headed for the entrance to the cabins, the ship rocked violently, tilting on its side just as she stepped on some slime.

Her feet slid in the muck, and so did she, careening across the deck, only belatedly realizing as she flew past a crew memberheld in place by his taught tether that she’d forgotten to tie hers off. It would be fine. The rail would stop her. It would hurt when she slammed into it, but she’d be?—

Smash.She hit it hard, too hard, and with the ship still at an angle found herself flung over. While she couldn’t see the water as she plunged, she sure felt it as it closed over her head.

And sank.

Chapter 6

Griff

Griff noticedthe little queen hadn’t secured her safety line as she walked away. The petite spitfire had shown no regard for her safety as she emerged to help in the battle. He couldn’t even be mad she’d risked herself because she’d proven to be a decent fighter.

The moment the wave hit the ship, a sixth sense had him moving as if he knew what would happen next.

The queen slid, unable to catch herself on anything, and headed for the rail. Griff didn’t think twice. Unlike his crew, he’d remained untied the entire battle, wanting to be able to move about freely. He threw himself down on the deck and let its angle and slickness give him the speed he needed to reach the queen. Not fast enough to catch her before she went over the side.

He launched himself after her.

Dumb.

So very dumb.

He’d always told his crew not to risk themselves trying to do the impossible. Man overboard in a storm? Consider him lost. But did he follow his own advice? Obviously not since he hit the water and let himself sink.

Pure darkness surrounded him, but he didn’t panic. It wouldn’t be his eyes that found the sinking queen. His questing arms didn’t touch her and while he had no way of knowing where she was, he kicked anyhow, swimming in a direction that had more to do with a feeling than anything tangible. As he stroked, the tip of his fingers felt fanning strands of hair and he fisted them, coiling her mane around his hand and dragging her limp body against his chest.

With her secured in one arm, he kicked for the surface, straining, his lungs aching. He burst from the water and took a deep, heaving breath before trying to orient himself. Not easily, he might add. Waves rolled over his face, the ocean determined to push them under. He kicked in an attempt to remain afloat and wondered how he’d get back on his damned boat.

So stupid. Risking himself, and for what? A tiny slip of a woman who’d been nothing but annoying.

The faint spots of light in the pouring rain showed the boat not too far, yet far enough given the waves kept pushing him further. Still, he tried to stroke for it one-armed.

“Captain! To your left!” Kreed’s holler had his head turning to see… nothing. It was too damned dark.

He kicked in that direction and his hand slapped over something hard but buoyant. He gripped the flotation device and yelled, “I’ve got it, Kreed. Reel us in.”

It proved somewhat challenging to hold on tight to the rapidly moving buoy while keeping the queen’s head above water. Kreed must have had help because they sliced easily through the waves that fought to keep them. The pace slowed as they reached the side of the ship, and then came the complicated part.

The rope slackened and he used that looseness to wrap it around his torso and free arm while holding onto the queen with the other as his crew hauled them from the ocean. They landedon the deck in a soggy mess, alive. At least he was. He had no idea if the queen had survived her dunking.

“I don’t think she’s breathing, Cap,” Simhi declared, rolling Avera to her side and pounding her back.

“Move aside.” Despite his exhaustion, Griff was the one to grab Avera and hoist her enough her head dangled down, the angle forcing water to run out of her mouth and lungs. Not enough for her to breathe.

Griff placed the little queen on her back and put his mouth on hers, blowing, filling her lungs with air. Once. Twice. On the third forced breath, she shuddered and spasmed. He threw himself to the side as she turned her head and spewed.

Seawater and dinner. Nasty. Good thing it was still raining.

The queen’s lashes fluttered. “Am I dead?” she croaked.

“Not yet, although you gave it a good try.” Griff rose to his feet. “Get her into a bed.” Not much else to do with someone who’d almost drowned. Either she recovered or she didn’t.

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