It’s a damn shame the pain it’s caused seems equally as emotional as it is physical. There’s an urge building the longer I look; I want to soothe the broken skin and kiss every spot that she’s ever been made to feel ashamed about.
Humans and faeries alike can be cruel. Being from a world that borders both, I’m not a stranger to any of it—sure, my kind aren’t immune to flaws, but they’d undoubtedly accept her.
I pull my gaze from her, assured she’s fast asleep. I head over to the bathroom, lay my glamour on the edge of the tub, and relax when the buzz of magic leaves me.
There’s a small bottle of bubble bath on the side of the tub. Curiosity gets the better of me and I uncork it, pouring a small amount into the running water. The tropical scent of her seeps into the room—it’s sweet like vanilla and coconut.
Sweet like Marina.
As I slip into the water, the cool frothy bubbles coat my body. Worry washes right down the drain. A heaviness falls over me and I tip my head back, resting my neck on the edge of the tub. I let my eyes close.
Tomorrow, rain or shine, I’ll tell her everything.
Chapter 13
Marina
All I wanted was a glass of water. I definitely didn’t get up to sneak a glimpse at Gil, and my heart absolutely didn’t plummet when I realized he’s not where I left him.
Huh?
He could have stepped out for a moment—but then again, when good things come into my life, they disappear.
I really hope he doesn’t turn out to be one of them.
Chugging the glass of tap water, I head to the bathroom, and my breath quickens.
I joked about a gator breaking into my cabin, but I didn’t think it would actually happen. My throat bobs as I stumble backward. Either I’m dreaming, or this is the most Florida thing that could possibly be happening to me right now.
There’s something large and covered in scales … sleeping in my bathtub.
While soap bubbles obscure details, legs stick out from one side of the tub—the same ones I saw under the glass-bottomed boat, I know it.
Which means I’mdreaming.
The scales, in shades of blue and green, awaken something buried deep within me. His limbs are long and muscular with webbed hands and talons that look like they could slash me in half with just a flick.
I stumble backward, bumping into the pages of my diary that are still hanging to dry. There’s a drawing there—stick figures with the shaky letters M + G in a heart.
It’s him.
But then, I notice his necklace—Gil’s necklace—on the edge of the tub.
Gil.
Gale.
Gil.
Gale?
G.
To me, Gil has felt magnetic this whole time. In a strange, uncanny way—seeing him now, everything makes sense. The wide-set eyes, the full lips, they’re still there; they somehow fit now. My eyes flit down his chest, from scale to scale, and heat rushes to my face.
He’s beautiful.
Really, truly beautiful. And totally impossible.
