Page 122 of Wicked Tides
And now I had found myself in his nightmare where he was unable to save me.
On a rock, I found a bundle of thin blankets and a cotton dress. I took it and slid it over my wet body, loosely tying the laces over my breasts. Looking around again, I tried to remember how I got to the spring.
A pair of urgent footsteps drew my attention. I looked over my shoulder just as Meridan slid around the corner, nearly slipping on the slick stone. When she saw me, she blinked as if surprised to see me awake.
“You must run,” she said.
“Why?”
“Vidar is coming. I told him about the dreams.”
“You what? Why?”
“I have not been myself. I have been foolish. I see the way you look at him and I wanted to protect you. I—"
She ceased talking when the heavy thrum of hooves could be heard drawing closer to the spring. I stepped around the stone wall to see Vidar just up the path on horseback, galloping across the packed mud. The moment I met his eyes, I could see the tension in them. Instantly, I wanted to shout at him. I wanted to explain myself and the way things had changed since I first set foot on the Rose, but seeing that great beast hurtling toward me made me rethink that.
“Dahlia, run,” Meridan urged.
“He will hear me out,” I said, trying to convince myself more than her.
“You cannot risk it. You’ve only just healed.”
She pushed me away from the spring and I turned to her. “Where will you go?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just go!”
She pushed me again and I stumbled out into the open as Vidar careened up to the spring, pulling the horse to a skidding stop. I spun around and took off toward the trees. Not out of fear. Out of a need to survive long enough to explain.
“Vidar, don’t!” I heard Meridan shout.
“Stay out of this!” he roared.
I looked back long enough to see that Meridan was safe. I saw Vidar leaping off the horse and sprinting toward me. I couldn’t even tell if he had his weapons. I just kept going, hoping whatever position we found ourselves in next would be one that would allow me to speak.
The trees were thick and tall the further I ran. I was barefoot and the stones and frosted ground hit the soles of my feet like glass.
“Dahlia!” Vidar bellowed. “Stop!”
As if I was going to suddenly start doing as he said. I leapt over logs and rocks and ducked under snow-salted branches trying to gain enough distance to gather my thoughts. But Vidar was fast. Outrunning him would not work. Not when he was born with legs and I was born with a fin.
I reached a small clearing covered in yellowed grass and patches of snow. In the middle was a thick, fallen log lying as high as my hip. I jumped over it and turned to face Vidar once something—anything—was between us. I saw him race into the clearing and slide to a halt on the other side of the log, his eyes glaring daggers at me.
“Stop running,” he panted.
I shook my head in defiance. “Stop chasing.”
He moved to one side and I moved to the other, keeping my distance.
“It’s true, then” he muttered, regarding me like I was a stranger.
I shook my head, but did not say anything. I couldn’t deny his accusation, as vague as it was. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Pressing my lips together, I straightened my shoulders and fortified my thoughts.
“How long?” Vidar said, stepping toward the log. I backstepped, ready to take off again.
I was not accustomed to running, but I’d made it so far with him. A part of me didn’t want to ruin that. If I didn’t run, I would have to fight and one of us would perish in that confrontation. I knew it.
“How long?” he barked. “Since we were children or since I brought you onto my ship?”
