Page 98 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
“Yes. From surfacing. From getting too close to ships. Or the dock. Or other areas.” He turned, pointing the tip of his nose at something I couldn’t see through the fog. “From crossing the r-r-r-reef.”
So that was why the stars shone here.
He’d taken me to the reef, to the very edge of Niverwick’s magical border.
To the very edge of his cage.
That lemony taste turned acidic. “And those runes…are they also on your neck?”
“No. They are above my eyes.” He cocked his chin slightly sideways, as though showing me, but there was no way I’d be able to see them. Not in the dark, and not when the runes camouflaged themselves so well.
“Alistair, I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
A distressed sound escaped him. “Don’t be. Pippi. Please. This isn’t your…g-g-guilt. It’s not yours to feel.”
“I feel it anyway.” I touched a hand to the burning rune again, forcing myself to savor the pain. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” he murmured. “It only hurts when it’s…ack-act-activated.”
“What about other things? When they force you to stay under the surface? Even if you’re doing what you’re told and don’t activate the rune, does it hurt you? Like, so, okay…I watched one of those nature documentaries a while back about whales. And I didn’t realize they wereair breathing.I’d always assumed sea things breathed water. But whales suffocate if they can’t surface.”
“I am not a whale, Pippi.” Alistair chuckled.
“Well, Iknowthat.”
“I’m way…there’s a word. C-coo-cooler.”
And he stressed that word too, in a ‘90s surfer boy style. “Cooooolllllerrrr.”
“Oh jeeze, you’re really hamming it up tonight, aren’t you?” I asked.
He blew out a big breath, sending the gills on the side of his neck fluttering like sparkly green streamers.
“Yes.” I laughed. “You’re right. You’re way cooler than a whale. Andprettier.”
Alistair tucked his chin up and puffed his chest out.
“Did that stroke your ego enough?”
“A bit more won’t hurt.” He laughed when I gave his shoulder a tap. “But, no, Pippi. Being under the surface, staying there, it does not hurt me. I can b-breathe air. Or water. Both are e-e-easy.”
“Well, thank the stars for that, at least.” I kneaded my hands into the areas around the rune, wishing the magic was a big muscle knot that I could work out with a deep tissue massage. Or a line of ink that I could scrub away. But it was more of a brand—burntdeeplyinto his flesh. A blistering wound that would never heal.
But I tried to make it feel better.
Alistair nuzzled the tip of his nose to my head, and a warm river of tranquility trickled through my chest.
Helovedthis.
Being touched. Shown affection.
He was basking in it.
So I kept going. Grinding my knuckles into the tall, slippery slopes of his shoulder. Applying as much pressure as I had the strength for, although I knew my massages wouldn’t penetrate his thick hide. At best, the digging touches probably felt like a light brush to him.
His shoulder, when I worked my hands lower, slipping them beneath the water, never stopped moving. Hard bands of muscle coiled and rolled beneath my palms. And the sloped plane of it seemed endless. Even when I’d dropped my hands past my waist, they were still squarely on his shoulder. I nudged my paddling legs closer, brushing my bare feet against him and stretching my toes to see if they could feel the end of his shoulder.
They couldn’t.
