Page 24 of Rainse
“You’re awake,” she repeated — and this time her voice wasn’t in the dream. It was beside me.
I turned my head. Reality crashed back. The sky above was soft with early morning light. The air smelled of salt, smoke, and her. She was lying next to me beneath the same cloak-turned-blanket, propped up on one elbow. She’d put her own clothes back on. Her hair brushed my shoulder.
Slowly, the memory returned. Darkness. Pain. A voice in the distance.
She’d saved me.
I remembered the flashes of light, the stinging sensation all over my body, the taste of pain like iron in my throat. And then her voice, calling through the water. Strong. Hopeful. Human.
I shifted carefully, sitting up slowly. For some reason, dried pieces of coconut were scattered across my chest, sticking to my skin and peeling off in places.
“You’re alive,” she said, squinting. “Good. That would’ve been a waste of effort.”
My throat tightened around a laugh. “You saved me.”
“You make it sound like you didn’t give me a choice.” She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “You really need to stop throwing yourself at everything that glows.”
“I didn’t know they would attack.”
“You felt it, didn’t you?” she asked. “That’s what you said — the sea felt wrong. Did you think you were invincible? Sometimes, even the smallest things can be deadly. The ocean is not a safe place. And it is full of mysteries. I'm the first to admit that, despite all the science.”
"How long was I asleep?"
"Since lunchtime yesterday. I kept a watch over you overnight, but I must have fallen asleep at some point. I was monitoring your breathing and heartbeat - not that I know what's normal for a finman. But they slowed down over time, so I took that as a good sign. And since I didn't have vinegar on hand, I had to resort to coconut." Her gaze wandered to my chest. "Looks like it worked. The burns are much better than they were yesterday."
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For saving my life.”
She shrugged, but her cheeks coloured slightly. “You’d have done the same.”
“I already did,” I said before I could stop myself.
Her eyes twinkled. “Right. So we’re even now.”
I wanted to tell her that we'd always been even, that we were mates, but I bit down on the words. She wasn’t ready for that truth yet.
“You should rest,” I said instead. “You’ve done enough for one lifetime. I will make us some food soon. There are fish in the shallows. I won't need to go for a dive to find us a meal."
“You’re not the boss of me,” she said, lying back down anyway.
I smiled, unable to help it. “No,” I murmured. “But I’d like to be the reason you never need saving again.”
She was already drifting back to sleep, and I wasn’t sure she’d heard me. Maybe that was for the best.
I lay beside her, listening to the waves. For the first time in years, the word unworthy felt far away, swallowed by the sea.
Something warm and soft was pressed against my chest. I breathed in deep and the realisation swept across me like an unexpected embrace. It was her. Verity. I must have fallen asleep, and she must have rolled against me - or maybe purposely snuggled against me.
I didn't dare move. Didn't want to breathe. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat against my ribs, slow and sure. Each pulse sent a tremor through the bond that hummed beneath my skin. It wasn’t just a whisper anymore; it crackled with energy, alive and curious.
Every finman's bond with his mate was slightly different. Neither of my clutch-brothers had described it to feel this electric, but then, I hadn't asked them too many questions. I'd been too jealous and hadn't wanted to dwell on the sad fact that they had mates and I didn't.
She stirred and let out a soft, sleepy sound that did terrible things to my self-control. My body wanted to draw her closer, to surround her, to breathe her in until there was no line between us. My mind screamed to stay still. Humans didn’t understand bonds. Not yet. Not until it was explained, chosen.
“Morning,” she murmured, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning,” I managed, the word a low rumble in my chest.
She blinked up at me, confused for a heartbeat before realising how close we were. Colour rose in her cheeks. She pushed herself upright, brushing hair from her face. “Sorry, I didn’t?—”
