Page 126 of Iron Roses

My vision narrows. Sound dims again.

I tap the boards, fingers searching, groping blindly.

Wood. Splinters. Nothing—Steel.

My hand curls around the knife hilt.

I lift it. Drive it upward.

The blade sinks into the soft meat of his eye.

His head jerks back with a strangled shriek. Blood sprays hot against my face. He thrashes, body bucking over me.

He clutches his face. I pull the blade free with a wet suck—then slam it into the other eye.

The steel punches through the socket with a sickening crunch. He screams.

He flails. His arms slap the dock. I shove his chest with both hands. He topples sideways.

His body rolls once—then over the edge. He hits the water hard. Limbs splash. Then go still.

I roll onto my side, spitting blood. I breathe. I breathe again. My throat burns. My vision swims. But I breathe.

I drop the knife. It clatters once, then rolls toward the edge.

The sound of the water shifts. A shape breaks the surface.

Cassian.

He swims hard—shoulders knifing through the current, face set with violent focus. The muscles in his arms tighten with each pull. He reaches the dock in seconds, hands gripping the boards, dragging his soaked body up without pause.

He rises to his knees beside me.

His eyes—when they find mine—don’t search. They know. They hold every answer I didn’t ask aloud.

His hands cradle my face. Fingers trace the swollen curve of my mouth, the split in my bottom lip, the raw skin at my jaw.

He kisses me. His mouth presses to mine like he’s trying to erase what came before. His breath is hot against my torn lips, and I feel it—the tremble in his fingertips, the heat of his palms cupping my cheeks, the way his chest pulls tight against mine as he leans in further.

A tear slips down the line of his nose, catching in the corner of my mouth.

He kisses me again. My hands lift—shaky, unsure. They slide up his chest. Across his soaked shirt. Over the strap of his shoulder holster. My fingers find the space between his shoulder blades. I pull him closer.

I close my eyes.

The warmth grows around us. The scent of blood fades.

The sun breaks over the horizon stretching across the dock, painting the sea in light.

I stay wrapped in him as the first rays fall over us.

Chapter Twenty-Three – Cassian

I pull back, just enough to see her face.

Blood streaks the edge of her temple. Her lip’s still split, cheek swollen, lashes stuck together with salt and tears.

“I love you, Elaria.”

---