Page 31 of Waves
Just as I had been in my dream.
The final moments of the nightmare replayed viscerally through every muscle in my body. Fleeing up a spiral stair only to be shoved against the stone, chained by smoke that was somehow able to touch me and yet to bar me from touching it no matter how my hands slashed through the blue.
My calves tightened, remembering how the curling dark fog had encapsulated them, squeezing until I screamed. Then more of the dark cloud had swum upward, invading my mouth and nose, choking me as it burrowed inside.
I gasped, raising a hand to my chest and beating on it, trying to remind my body that the anxiety had no basis, that the dream wasn’t real—no matter how intense it still felt.
Calm down.I chided myself, shakingly annoyed at how overwhelmed my nerves were.You’re overreacting. Just like you nearly did yesterday when that stray bit of seaweed wrapped around your ankle. Don’t be that foolish again.
Grabbing a burnt orange dress with an open back for my wings, I tossed it on loosely. Then I hurried to my door and flung it open, expecting to see Ugo and Paavo, about to order them to go for Mateo and Felipe. I needed people. Trusted people. And distraction.
But I stopped short, shocked to see Watkins floating next to two other mer guards, playing cards spread in all of their hands.
Caught and embarrassed, the junior guards blubbered out apologies as they dropped the cards, and the evidence of their lackadaisical ways floated around their face like little white diamonds.
Instead of paying any attention to them, I simply tilted my head in askance at Watkins. His presence was far more shocking than the guards’ laziness at this hour.
Shirtless, his dorsal fin protruding from his back, the shark shifter’s black hair hung loose and shaggy around his eyes, a bright shock of white strands cutting diagonally across his forehead. The shadows made his torso appear even more sculpted than usual, a fact I did not appreciate at this hour and in my current harried, unkempt state. It took effort not to reach for my hair and wonder how frazzled it was.
He blinked at me almost in disbelief, as if he hadn’t expected me to emerge from my own room. That made two of us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him. My eyes wanted to cut down the corridor in both directions as suspicion rolled over me, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me worried about his presence.
My mind, however, raced a mile a minute as my eyes locked onto his dark orbs and took their measure. Why would he be distracting my guards in the middle of the night? Why, if not to allow his rebel friends an opportunity? Surely, there had to be some soul brazen enough—emboldened by last night's tragedy—ready to try.
My back stiffened at the thought of an attack and the adrenaline surge I’d just fought back rose up again. But this time it was accompanied by a hammering fury. The song of the ocean started up faintly in the back of my skull and my palms tingled in dark anticipation. My power couldn’t do much. But a ball of ice to the skull would still hurt like hell.
We agreed to a truce. To a fresh start. And yet…
The shark shifter’s teeth nibbled one corner of his mouth as he handed his cards over to one of the guards, who glanced at them and groaned before cutting the sound off, the fool remembering he was in trouble.
Watkins swam a little closer to me, stopping when I visibly bristled. “I couldn’t sleep, and I figured it was only an hour or so until breakfast…I thought I’d see if you wanted to eat with me.”His onyx eyes lowered before a rueful expression overtook his face and he ran his hand through his hair, making the shock of white droop to one side.
“Stupid idea. Presumptuous. I’ll just…” He gestured toward the hall. The empty hallway. My eyes took the opportunity to sweep past him and see that no one was lurking.
Dammit, Avia. Pull it together.I realized, belatedly, that Watkins had turned his back and was walking away.Breakfast? He actually wants to have breakfast?
Relief nearly bent me in half as the fury wrapping around my middle vanished in a snap.
The rebel had really just wanted to see me.
My knees softened and the knots in my stomach uncoiled, the remnants of fear from my nightmare morphing into a different kind of nervous energy.
“A lot of your ideas are presumptuous,” I called out after him. “This isn’t one of them.”
He turned back, a small smile lighting his features as he said, “Oh really? Which ones?”
There was a fire in his gaze that lashed out and hit me right in the torso, that look burning through me. For a second I was lost in it.
Motioning for him to wait, I turned toward the guards, who cringed, physically curling inward almost as if they expected me to physically lash out. “You two are demoted. You get to guard the stables from now on. Go get Paavo and Ugo back here. Tell them if they want to sleep they need to find competent replacements.” That was harsh. Too harsh? My sleep-deprived brain wasn't quite certain and couldn't quite be bothered to care. My people-pleasing function hadn’t woken up with the rest of me.
With a stiff nod, one of them dashed off—as frantic as a sardine wriggling away from some tuna. I rolled my eyes at theman’s clear cowardice as I glanced over at Watkins. “You haven’t been checked for weapons; I assume?”
The remaining guard rushed forward, but I held up a hand to stop him, which he came perilously close to crashing into. “No. It’s fine. I’ll do it.”
Watkins let a sultry expression roll over his face. “You’ll do it?”
With a jerk of my head, I ordered the shark shifter to start moving toward my room. “Yes, I don’t want him mistaking that stick up your ass for something that might actually hurt me.”
