Page 14 of The Ocean's Heart
He was power, and the elements were nothing against him, but as if to prove him wrong, they attacked harder, tearing at the boat and shaking it so that all I could do was whimper and hold fast because no sword or axe could best this foe.
A bubble of terror ballooned in my chest, choking me and stealing my breath. If we capsized, then the sea king would survive, but I’d drown.
I couldn’t die. Not yet. Not like this.
But as the fear threatened to overwhelm me, a melody cut through the cacophony of the storm. Low and haunting, it was a vibration that carried the sound of appeasement. A plea to the elements to hold their wrath from us and provide us safe passage. I wasn’t sure how I knew this; it was merely a conviction deep in my bones.
The roll and dip of our vessel ebbed, and the roaring elements quietened. The only sound was the smack of oars as they hit the water followed by the drag as we were propelled forward.
I looked up, never relinquishing my grip on the king. The water ahead was smooth and noncombative, and although dark clouds still hung low overhead, churning in fury, and although the storm still ripped at the waters several meters to either side of us, it did not touch us.
The melody continued to flow, louder now in the relative silence. It hummed against my skin, vibrating my bones. I reached up with one hand and placed my palm on King Vaarin’s abdomen to confirm my suspicion. The vibration was inside him. The sound was coming from him.
It was a demand wrapped in a plea.
The king of the Northern Sea was creating safe passage for us with his song. His muscles contracted beneath my touch, but the melody continued.
He glanced down at me, eyes like sapphire flame boring into me with such intensity they left me aching in a way I didn’t understand. In that moment, I wanted to be bathed head to toe in the fire of his gaze. I wanted it to devour me whole.
He blinked sharply and tore his gaze away, releasing me from the strange compulsion. I dropped my hand, my chest tight with emotions that I could only define as bone-aching longing.
I tucked myself against his legs and held on once more. Whatever this feeling was, it would pass. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important.
It couldn’t be.
* * *
The storm passed,and the sea lay smooth as glass ahead. The sky was a vista of twinkling stars. The elements were mercurial indeed.
“We shall be at the island soon,” King Vaarin said. “Do you see it? The gray shadow against the night up ahead?”
I pushed up on my knees, one arm still hooked around his leg, to look out at the sea. “I don’t see it.”
He secured the oars then leaned in so that the heat of his torso pressed to my back. “There.” He pointed, and I followed the trajectory, searching the horizon until…
“I see it.”
He sat back, picked up the oars once more, and began to row, but there was less power in each drag, and when I looked up at his face, it was too pale in the moonlight.
“You’re tired.”
“I am fine,” he said. “Do not fear. We will get to our destination.”
“I know but…why don’t you let me row for a bit?”
He looked so affronted at the suggestion that my indignation warred with amusement. “Please tell me you’re not a chauvinist.”
“I’m the king of the northern sea,” he said in response.
“Which doesn’t serve as an exemption. Besides, even kings can tire.”
“The sea song has tired me a little,” he conceded. “Pacifying the elements is…draining.” The admission crinkled his brow. “But I am not depleted yet.”
“Then let me row. For a little while.”
I thought he would argue, but instead he nodded. “Very well.”
I switched places with him, careful not to rock the boat, holding on to him for balance, our bodies touching more than I’d like, his hands warm and secure on my arms then my hips as we maneuvered ourselves.
