Page 89 of A Storm in Every Heart
“I wouldn’t need your help even if there was a crocodile,” I mutter.
“Sure you wouldn’t.”
“No, really,” I snap. “I’m much stronger in the water than on land.”
“Does it matter if it’s fresh or saltwater?” he asks, sounding suddenly curious.
I dunk my head in the water and flip my hair back before answering. “I don’t know. I haven’t had many opportunities to test my strength in the ocean.”
“Why?” he asks, voice sounding even closer now. This time I’m sure it wasn’t me who moved, but for some reason I don’t back up.
“Because I lived in Vernallis,” I lie. That’s part of the reason, but nowhere near the entire truth of why I’ve hardly ever spent much time in my other form; why I’ve only ever swum in the ocean once in my entire long life.
I bite the inside of my cheek, worried that I’ve said too much and Kastian will ask more questions that I won’t—that I physically can’t—answer. But he doesn’t.
“Show me,” he says, voice far too loud in my ear.
I jump, realizing he’s right behind me, and whip around. He’s close enough that I can make out his outline now and a hint of his expression as he looks down at me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I demand, voice shaking slightly as I cross my arms over my chest. “You were supposed to stay over there.”
“Then how would you save me if there was a crocodile?” he asks, clearly trying not to laugh.
“Oh, now I’m doing the saving?”
“Maybe. Show me how much stronger you are, and then I’ll decide.”
“I’m not showing you anything; you’re already hurt.”
“I’m fine, it’s just a couple of flesh wounds. They’ll heal by tomorrow even without magic, and you owe me one for saving you.”
I bristle. “In exchange for saving me you want to know how strong I am?”
“I can think of a lot of things I want, but I’ll start with this. Let’s call it academic curiosity.”
“Fine,” I hiss, already knowing I’m playing with fire. “Give me your hand.”
Kastian holds out his hand, and I feel for it in the dark, my fingers brushing accidentally against the hard ridges of his muscled stomach. A shiver travels through me as I finally grip his hand and squeeze. “This is as hard as I can squeeze your hand above water.”
“That’s barely anything.”
My brows furrow. “Yeah, well, here’s half as hard as I can squeeze it under the water.”
I give him no further warning than that before I plunge both our hands beneath the surface of the river and squeeze. I feel the bones shifting in his hand beneath my fingers, and some dark, long-dormant part of me enjoys knowing that I could crush his fingers if I wanted to. I could pull him down with me beneath the undertow and never let go.
“Fuck!” Kastian yells, pulling his hand back from me in a shower of river water.
“I told you,” I reply, smugly stretching out my fingers like a cat might unfurl its claws. “You’re the one who asked.”
He shakes out his hand. “Fuck, Princess. I think you broke it.”
“I didn’t. I could have, though. Maybe think about that the next time you decide to corner me in the dark.”
He laughs darkly. “I’ll definitely be thinking about that the next time, but only because now I know I don’t have to hold back for fear of breaking you. You can take it.”
I inhale sharply. He was holding back before?
Oh gods.
