Page 2 of Miles

Simply put, Alan and Dallas just didn’t understand me, didn’t come close to sharing the sort of bond I had cultivated with the others, the ones I share the cave with.

I never thought I’d miss Cash or Fence or any of them, but I did just now. I missed our shorthand, the way we could understand what the others were thinking without having to explain too much. I hadn’t realized how exhausting it could be to make myself understood until just then.

The scenery around us was idyllic, and I couldn’t help but let my stress melt away as I swam out until the sand was nothing more than a line in the distance.

There were a series of cliffs off to my left, with rocks along the base on which waves crashed. The word “tranquil” didn’t begin to describe it.

Except for one thing.

I wished I could shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“We should cliff dive!” Alan called out from where he treaded water, yards behind me.

I took another look, then shook my head. “Unless you want to paint the rocks,” I called back.

There were far too many. A person would have to take a running leap starting a great distance from the edge.

I was in no such mood and wasn’t sure I could shift in time to save my reckless neck.

“She is!” He pointed up, shielding his eyes from the late-morning sun.

I looked up, too, and knew the moment my eyes locked on her that she was the reason I was out here, that I had chosen that spot and swam out that far because of her.

From that distance, I could hardly make out any of the details of her face or body. She was little more than a silhouette standing against the deep, blue sky. Still, I knew she was the reason I was where I was. Nobody needed to tell me.

Just as I needed no announcement that something was terribly wrong.

“She can’t jump,” I muttered when Dallas reached me. “She’ll never make it without hitting the rocks.”

“Maybe she’s sightseeing,” he suggested, sounding doubtful.

“Maybe.” I didn’t believe it. I also didn’t take my eyes from her.

A gust of wind blew over her and carried the scent of her hair, skin, and clothes with it.

I breathed her in, my eyes closing without my intending them to. She was a rare perfume, one I had never smelled before and would never be able to get out of my head.

“Does she see us?” Alan asked, waving his arms over his head as if to warn her.

“I don’t think so. She’s not looking down.”

Instead, she stared off at the horizon, the picture of regret. It was in the slope of her shoulders, the position of her head. Perhaps my imagination played me false, I tried to reason, but the dragon knew better. He was alert, all but holding his breath as we watched to see what the girl on the cliff would do. The tension was nearly unbearable.

Until it broke.

Until she threw herself off the cliff.

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