Page 38 of I Summon the Sea

“Don’t do this.” His voice is a low growl. “Don’t. Step away. Take a boat and go back to the land. Save yourself.”

I shake my head.No.

Gods, his eyes. As my eyes and hair are pale, his are dark like the night and just as deep. “You will die here. You can’t?—”

To stop him from saying more, I poke him in the chest. His very hard, muscular chest, even without his armor, and myfinger trails down to his stomach—also very hard, the inner voice supplies cheerfully, hard like a rock?—

He grabs my hand as if he’s about to drag me away from the Temple, despite the glare I’m sending his way, but the telchin is making his way to us, placing himself in our path.

“You cannot remove her now, son,” he booms. “Not without a valid reason. She made her choice.”

“No.” Athdara’s black hair flies as he looks around wildly, as if hoping for… for what? A fight? A commotion? A miracle?

Arkin and Tru step toward us, but they look worried.

“Let her be,” Arkin hisses. “You can’t break the rules. It’s a done deed.”

“The telchin said so,” Tru adds. “You’ll anger the gods. Stop.”

Yes, I think, glaring at Athdara.I made my choice. Back off.

“I won’t,” he growls, his eyes flashing, and a flare of heat goes through me. Through my chest, through my head. I clutch at my heart, wondering what that was.

He glares right back at me, as if I’ve done something wrong. He, the fae male who gathered up all these miserable people and delivered them to the Temple and the king with a bow on top. How dare he judge me.

His long lashes lower after a small eternity, and he sighs. When I try to pull my hand free of his, he resists.

“Athdara,” the telchin beckons again, “come. We have much to do. Much to prepare.”

But Athdara ignores him. He’s still gazing down at me. “Why are you doing this?”

I press my lips together in a flat line and lift my chin.My business. Not yours.

This time, when I pull my hand, he releases me, and turns toward the humans.

“You.” He marches up to a young human man. “I want your place.”

The youth stares at him. “But?—”

“Move.”

What in the hells is he doing now? I step toward him, but Tru shakes his head forbiddingly. The message is clear.Don’t interfere.

Athdara drags a hand over his face. Makes a show of speaking slowly and clearly. “For those listening, I am asking you if you would give me your place in the games. Yes, or no?”

“Yes,” the young man says slowly. “Yes, I would. Why?—?”

“Good.” Athdara grabs his arm and hauls him to the side, sending him stumbling toward the docks.

Then he steps into the now vacant spot and folds his powerful arms over his black-clad chest, hair whipping in the rising wind, his jaw hard.

“Athdara—” the telchin starts.

“Here we are. I’ve taken his place. Now,” he says, “we’re set to start.”

A brouhaha rises from the crowd across the strait. Whistling, booing, screaming. I still don’t know what exactly just happened. I realize my mouth is hanging open.

The telchin is watching him, his gaze narrow, a calculating glint in his dark eyes.

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