Page 62 of Of Rime and Ruin
My reaction has nothing to do with the Beast, rising from the water like a demigod to stand on his hind legs.
Shit.
He’s beautiful in the moonlight. His white hair drips over his broad shoulders, the same star-silk color as Audrina’s cratered face. Water laps at his muscled torso, flowing over the washboard of dark scales and hiding the powerful flex of his thighs from view.
As he steps closer, his voice rumbles in my head:Beautiful.
My eyes flutter partway closed as a shudder moves through my body.
The water sloshes, the curve of his hip rising above the waves. Muscles cut a sharp path from his hip to the waterline, and I follow it with my gaze, tracing toward his pelvis. His broad shoulders block the moon, and I tear my gaze away. He reaches out his hand, claws glinting with the silver sheen of seawater, and watches me.
My heart thrums. I take his hand, cold and leathery, and his grip swallows my fingers. With a gentle tug, he lifts me to my feet.
Sunfish will stay, he says again.You will be safe.
His words land in my mind with the weight of a command; I have no choice but to be safe. He tightens his hold on my fingers, brushing the pad of his thumb over my knuckles. His gaze pierces mine, eyes a stormy gray.
Have his eyes always been that color? A few moments ago, I could have sworn they were pure black. Now, a distinct blue hue feathers the perimeter of each iris, like ice crusting over iron. The longer I stare, the lighter they fade. A pale gray now, swirling with threads of sapphire.
I can’t stay, I tell him.I have places to be, and I can take care of myself.A cage will never hold me.
My only friend.He twists his hand, threading his webbed fingers through the gaps between mine.Stay, please. For me. I will protect you.
From what?I trace the thin membrane between his fingers, velvety to the touch.You’re the scariest thing around.
I mean it as a joke, but his face twists in pain and a wash of regret filters through our mental connection. His thoughts jumble, clouds rising to block the answer from me.
Friends don’t keep secrets, I tell him.
He drops my hand and takes a step backward.
Bitter wind breaks around his body, stinging my skin. My wet hair crusts to my skull, and my teeth chatter. I can’t stand here much longer. I need to find shelter—fast.
On my breasts, the starfish lose their grasp, their suckers slowly freezing solid. I cup them in my hands to block the wind. The Beast tracks my movement, his pupils growing large.
Sunfish is cold?he asks.
You live in an ice trap, Beasty. I’m always cold.
The Beast snarls. Through our mental connection, he sends an image from his memory: my body curled into the corner of the frozen cell, golden tail covered in frost. His hands reach out, grabbing the bars and pulling him closer. In his memory, I glance up, and my eyes are hollow. Hungry. His distaste colors the memory, anger simmering at the edges.
The sun should not be dimmed, he says. The memory recedes into the swath of his thoughts.
He reaches for me again, running his hands over my bare arms. It’s harmless, his touch, but still my stomach flutters.
He pulls me closer, blocking my body from the wind once more. His hands move up and down, and the friction generates a rush of heat.
I look away from his face, focusing on his broad chest. The scales shimmer with seawater, beads of it sliding down themuscled expanse. On his breastbone, the scales are thinner, sparse, revealing creamy white skin beneath. Without thinking, I reach out and brush the spot with my finger. It’s smooth and cold, soft instead of leathery.
Has that spot always been there?
I spread my fingers, pressing against his chest. The Beast inhales sharply. Beneath my palm, I feel the heavy beating of his heart.
His breath bathes me on his exhale, smelling faintly of peppermint. Hooking his thumb beneath my chin, he tilts my face.
His eyes are pale, like a snowy sky, as I search his gaze, and he searches mine. On his cheek, the scales have thinned, too, revealing the same swath of creamy skin. When he smiles, his teeth are rounded like the dull canines of a siren.
How strange. That smile—I’ve seen it before, somewhere. The scales rise at the base of my neck as a tingle traces my spine.
