Page 41 of Waves
He strode forward with confidence I didn’t expect. A swagger, something so out of character that I almost laughed. In his all-black outfit, with his hands in his pockets, he practically looked like a storybook villain. What a ridiculous notion.
But about halfway to me, he bit his lip and looked away, arrogance melting into insecurity. Was he getting cold feet? Feeling self-conscious?
I slid sideways toward him as the kraken lashed out, a massive tentacle swinging at my head.
“Shite!” Stavros cursed and grabbed me on impulse, yanking me into his chest as the current hissed past, the magical creature barely missing. Meanwhile, my hands clung to his shirt, the rapid thudding of his heart thumped against my palms—unnaturally quick. He must have been terrified. Guilt swarmed over me like plankton.
The creature’s beak opened, and an unnatural roar came out of its mouth. Gazing past it, I saw Lizza’s own mouth was open, her face twisted in manic glee as she swept her other arm in a wide arc, fingers wiggling.
Dammit all.
Two tentacles hurtled toward us from opposite directions, each as massive as a battering ram.
“Make a wall of ice!” Stavros commanded in a low tone as he pushed me around so that my back was to his front. Not abandoning me completely but attempting to help me focus. His slow, deep breath indicated that he was attempting to get a handle on his own racing pulse.
That meant I needed to do the same. Trying to draw on his calm, I shoved at my own nervous energy, pushing it aside—but it was hard to do, especially considering how the siren’s hands gripped my waist.
Turning back toward the monster, determined not to lose face in front of my suitor, I closed my eyes, blew out a breath, and reached for the song of the ocean, the trilling notes of the sea. Faintly, I heard them, but they were like minstrels playing beyond a hill, and though I imagined running at the sound, it darted away. Cheekily. Annoyingly.
A blinding thump to my temple sent me reeling, pain crackling across my skull. Star bursts flickered in front of me before I slammed my eyes shut. I heard Stavros grunt and felt his arms slacken around me, going limp.
Shite.
Lifting my head, I only had time to blink and register that another arm was about to hit.
BAM.
The force sent us sprawling backward and I gasped thinly, the water punched from my lungs. My puffy skirt had rolled up around my thighs, exposing my underthings.
“You’re a great warrior,” Stavros remarked from his back where he lay sprawled beneath me, shoved backward by the wallop that had smashed my organs into my spine.
“The best,” I agreed in a dark tone as I rolled onto my knees. Though I wanted nothing more than to sink into the ice shelf and let the cold soak into my aching body, I forced myself back up.
“What’s wrong with your magic?” he asked as he stood up behind me.
“Rather ungentlemanly to use me as your shield,” I snarked as I re-assumed battle position.
“I figured that you wanted someone to protect as you practiced. An innocent. I’m playing the part of the damsel in distress.” His delivery was so dry and deadpan that it was perfect, and if my torso wasn’t aching, I would have laughed.
“You do make a beautiful damsel,” I agreed. But then, noting the beast was still writhing, I tried to put Stavros from my mind and center myself?—
SMASH.
We crashed to the ground, Stavros shoving me down just before a tentacle bludgeoned our skulls and turned our brain matter to sludge.
Pain spread across my skin like harsh morning light, no inch spared from the bright, searing sensations. My eyelids squinted shut and my muscles screamed for me to stop. But if I did, then Stavros and I would lose more friends. If I did stop, I proved the rebels right—proved I couldn’t protect Okeanos.
It was harder to force myself upward this time, and I accepted Stavros’s hand when he offered it.
“Thanks,” I murmured, his liquid blue eyes soaking me in the curiosity of his stare.
“Is your magic…hard?” His tone was genuine, and it tempted me into admitting more than I should.
But in a queen’s world, trust is more valuable than jewels.
“It is,” I acknowledged, giving him only the briefest of truths. “Iwishit wasn’t.”
His fingers tightened on mine, clearly pitying me.
