Page 89 of The Sea Witch's Son

Peering down at me like some sort of tormented angel. There’s a white halo around his head, a divine sort of glow that softens the cruel cheekbones and sharp jawline. Full lips seem to be moving, speaking in a language I cannot hear, and all I can do is stare.

He’s beautiful.

What’s not beautiful is the vomit that suddenly lurches from my mouth.

Rolling onto my side, I start heaving up water and stomach bile. I’m gasping for air, choking on the chlorine being expunged through my nose and mouth. Just when I think I’m about to pass out, a rough hand forces my mouth open and shovels out the chunks stuck at the back of my throat.

Finally free to breathe, I suck down air, feeling my lungs weep with relief. Every breath feels like torture, but I keep going until it starts to flow more easily.

“I will have to throw out these pants now.” An exasperated sigh comes from the person beside me, “Why do you insist on being so difficult?”

I close my eyes, thinking about the face in my dream.

Not an angel. My personal devil.

“Marlin.” I whisper his name.

“Not to mention, you didn’t give me time to fold my shirt properly. Do you know how long it takes to get those creases straight?” Another sigh, “Honestly, little saint, I should have snapped a photo and left you there.”

“Marlin?”

He suddenly leans into my line of vision. I stare up at him, watching the white hair fall into his eyes.

Those stupidly pretty eyes.

“If I went to all that trouble just to have you sustain a brain injury, I will be extremely displeased.” Marlin frowns, soaking in every messy detail of my face.

I reach up without thinking. He doesn’t move when I touch his face, pressing my fingers into his flesh to make sure he isn’t a figment of my imagination.

A smile hits my face when he nips my finger.

“I’m still in hell.”

“Careful, little saint. You almost sound happy to see me.”

“You must have water in your ears.” My hand slips from his face and his eyes drop to track the movement, “What are you doing here?”

“I took a wrong turn in a maze.”

“That... explains nothing.” Shifting on the ground, I let out a loud groan, “What did you do to me?”

“I pulled you out of the water. Clearly.”

“No. I mean,” Touching my chest, I inhale sharply, “Why did you take a beating stick to my diaphragm?”

The tiniest smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“It was the punishment I saw fit for your actions.”

I glare at him, “You punished me for drowning?”

“I punished you fordying. The water had nothing to do with it.”

“I’m sure you were hoping to be the one to hold me under.” Snapping my teeth, I struggle to push myself upright, “Next time, just leave me there.”

A large hand forces me back down on the ground.

“Say that again.” He leans down until our noses are touching, “Say those exact words one more time.”

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