Page 141 of Of Serpents and Ruins
"If it was like mine without you, then…" He leaned closer, his breath whispering against my cheek. "I am truly sorry."
He must have taken something because he no longer smelled of horseradish and lemons. Instead, he just smelled like leather and smoke with only the faintest tinge of orange and bergamot coming from his black-and-red hair. Even if he had smelled like horseradish and lemon, though, I would have stayed close.
He nuzzled me, his nose tracing a line along my throat to the corner of my jaw. "Are you truly telling me that there was no one? No one caught your eye?"
"You know how much I have teased you and joked with you?"
He nodded, that crooked smile of his returning. "I do."
"I was never able to do that with anyone else. Ever."
So I am the sole recipient of your dreadful wordplay?"
"My dreadful wordplay and all my love." I slid my hand up the planes of his chest. "I didn’t belong there, and you were here…all this time. And you suffered."
He shook his head. His hand covered mine, stroking my fingers. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
I stepped closer then, pressing my forehead to his shoulder. It felt so good to be back in his arms and against him. With my eyes closed, the world almost felt right.
"Every sixteen hours…for decades…"
He grunted. "It sounds worse than it is. There was no temptation to kill you while you were gone."
"But you were in pain. Pain with no possibility for relief."
"Let’s not dwell on it." He stroked my back. "What matters is…" His mouth twisted, and his hand slid up along the back of my head. "When you were gone, I couldn’t laugh, but you came back utterly…"
"You can call me ridiculous." I smirked at him.
"Yes." He hugged me tighter. "You were just so full of life and such infectious joy. I was so afraid and aroused and angry. And there you were, my brash seer. It was like you knew what I needed as soon as you saw me." He cradled me. "You were—You are ridiculous and wonderful. And I have loved every moment of it."
"Even the puns?"
He squinted at me as he grunted. "Don’t push your luck, woman."
"You love them all." I burrowed closer.
"You. I love all of you." He rested his cheek on the top of my head.
The ship rocked a little harder. The flick of a silver tail on the outside indicated that the water serpent shifters were returning. No new splashes rose to show that the next wave had started.
I frowned. "What’s changed?"
"We’re probably ready for the Keening Pass." Brandt drew in a deep breath.
I peered out the window at the ocean. The morning sun remained pale yellow, almost watery despite its intensity, the waters themselves now grey and uncommonly still. But aside from that stillness and a large pillar of stone that had runes and sigils carved into it, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this place.
"What’s wrong?" Brandt asked. He put out each of the lanterns, plunging us into dimness.
"I just…I expected the Pass to be more…pass-y," I said.
"All hands shelter. All hands shelter." The captain strode overhead, his steps swift and echoing. He struck his wooden baton on the walls as he went. From the echoing beats, it sounded as if someone else called out on the opposite side of the ship.
I frowned, glancing down at Brandt. "Who’s steering the ship?"
He raised an eyebrow at me. "You don’t actually remember what happens next."
I folded my arms over my breasts as I peered out the porthole. "What happens next?"
