Page 70 of I Summon the Sea

And then I see him.

He’s sitting on a low wall, one knee drawn up, his arms laced around it, and the swirls on top of his hands seeming darker than ever. A jolt goes through me at the sight of him, and I realize it’s no use berating myself for reacting like this to the enemy.

For some reason, I just can’t help myself when it comes to him.

The wind toys with the strands of his midnight dark hair and flutters the ends of his untucked dark shirt. The blooms on his cheekbones look pitch black.

The white-and-gray darakin is flying overhead in lazy circles.

“Tru told me you’re feeling better,” he says, his voice a low rumble. Dark eyes shoot me a sideways glance, then linger. “Are you…?”

I wait for him to finish his question, but he’s only staring at me.

What? Do I have stains on my dress?

“The color suits you,” he whispers. “You look…”

Like something washed out by the sea, I think,like seaweed and dead things tangled together.

“You look beautiful,” he finishes, his voice a low breath, and unwelcome heat seeps into my cheeks.

I shift on my bare feet, suddenly unable to meet his dark gaze.

I shouldn’t care. And he’s probably mocking me. But when I manage to look at his face again, I find nothing derisive in his expression.

Turning, I sink down on the low wall beside him, looking out at the view. It’s high enough up here that the protective metal balustrade doesn’t obstruct it.

We’re quiet for a while, and for the first time since I started on this journey, it’s a voluntary silence, because this, sitting here with him, feels… calm. Peaceful.

Easy.

Just for this moment, I tell myself.A pause amidst the panic and stress. Sometimes you need that.

Not with him, the voice in my head argues.It doesn’t work like that.

But I don’t move.

The darakin screeches softly overhead, rising higher, a white speck against the metal sky.

Jai breathes out, a long exhale, and it speaks of tiredness, but perhaps also relief. His scent reaches me, smoky and with thattang of male musk that’s delicious on him. I take a surreptitious sniff. Deliciously spicy.

“You don’t smell that bad yourself,” he says, lifting a brow at my sniffing, “though… you smell like a garden today.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, and I swallow it down. I lift my arm and sniff it, and he’s right. I do smell like a garden.

… gardens of roses and gardenias, jasmine and hibiscus, rising on the slope of the hill, with the river gleaming below, a gem-like snake, covered in flashes and glints…

I shake my head to clear it of the memory.

The darakin screeches again and starts circling in a downward spiral. Jai lifts his hand as if beckoning, and it circles lower and lower, until it lands down with a small crash in front of us, leathery wings flapping, claws screeching on the flagstones.

Good gods above.I jerk a little, but Jai leans forward, reaching out a hand.

I grab his arm—andwhoa, muscles. It feels like I’m gripping the arm of a marble statue. Still, I shake him a little.

Is he insane? This creature could snap half his arm off in one bite. When he glances at me, I give him my best glare.

And… for some reason, he grins. It’s brief and sharp, but it makes his dark eyes shine, shooting gray-blue rays through the black irises.

---