Page 113 of Forged in Fading

“Yes, you, you tart.” She hurled her magic at the selkie and froze the water around it and Boden, who had gone limp. She was running out of time.

Alvara launched herself toward him, latched onto his foot, and yanked his body with a grunt. The ice around him splintered, and she sank under the waves with his weight. She swallowed a mouthful of sea water and coughed on the burning liquid as she pumped her legs to bring them both above the surface for air.

Gods, he was so heavy. She lugged him toward the ship at the pace of a bear waking up from hibernation—actually, she was probably slower—and yelled in the human tongue at the sailors on their ship.

“Help!” At least this time she knew it wasn’t the word for chicken. Saltwater clogged her nostrils, and her limbs screamed with the effort of keeping them both from drowning. The selkie growled behind her. She scrambled to gain distance, but the choppy sea fought her every move.

A few of the humans finally popped up at the railing, and their jaws dropped. Thank Vitharen at least one of them had enough awareness to launch himself off the ship and glide toward Alvara with the grace and speed of a fish. He latched onto Boden and propelled himself backward toward safety, freeing her fatigued arms.

She screamed. The selkie had sunk its teeth into her ankle and begun to drag her under. More seawater flooded her lungs. The light above her moved farther away, even as she flailed in the damn thing’s grip. She jabbed her boot into its flesh, but the creature held on tight. She was not going to lose in a fight to a godsdamned seal. Alvara grabbed her dagger, squeezed her burning eyes shut, and stabbed. The selkie hissed and released her, and she kicked to the surface, her mind spinning with each movement.

Alvara gulped down the air, but her lungs pleaded for more. She flung her arms forward and drove her legs behind her despite her exhaustion until she came close enough to the ship that a sailor could reach her. He gripped her by the arms and hoisted her onto the deck, where she collapsed in a pile of salt and sweat.

Boden lay a few paces from her. One of the men pushed rhythmically on his chest, but he didn’t move.

Breathe. Please.

Alvara pushed to her hands and knees and crawled toward him, even as her muscles shook from the effort. A violent spasm racked his body, and he doubled over and retched an ungodsly amount of water at the feet of the nearest sailor. She had never been so relieved to hear such a disgusting sound.

But instead of resting like any sane person would, he staggered to his feet and moved toward the ship’s railing. Godsdamned this male. Alvara lurched toward him and snagged his hand, but he still struggled against her, all the while spewing some language she had never heard before. Selkie.

She found her footing, placed her hand on his dripping face, and shot a line of ice up his skin. His eyes remained glazed, even as he fought off multiple sailors who tried to restrain him.

Maybe if she could convince him she was the selkie, he would stop trying to kill himself. And maybe a little part of her wanted to wipe that creature’s kiss off his lips.

This was just to save his skin. Alvara grabbed his neck and pressed her mouth to his. His eyes snapped to her face, and he dug his hand into her hair, crushing his lips harder against hers. Her body ignited with waves of delicious heat, and she sank into his touch, teasing her teeth over his bottom lip and tasting every drop of seawater. Tasting him. His other hand roamed down her body, lingering like he wanted to memorize every curve, every dip, and uncoiling desire within her for more, she needed more⁠—

Until she remembered he thought she was a stinking seal.

She shoved him away, panting between words. “I’m not the damn selkie, Boden! Snap out of it.”

He swallowed, his own chest heaving just as much as hers. “Selkie?”

“Yes, you idiot. She was about to drag you out to sea.” The image of the two locked in a kiss was forever seared into Alvara’s mind, and she squeezed the water out of her hair with so much force her scalp stung.

The sailors’ eyes darted between them.

“I was just trying to convince him I was the selkie so he wouldn’t jump to his damn fading. This”—she motioned between her and Boden—“is not a thing.” She shouldn’t have been explaining this at all, let alone to humans who didn’t understand a word she said. Gods, she needed to pull herself together.

If she had to stand on the ship for one more second without something to do, she would lose her mind. She stalked toward the other end of the ship where one of the sailors took buckets of water from the men below deck and emptied them into the sea.

She ripped the next full bucket from his hands. “Me,” she said in his language.

He raised his voice, but she coated the bucket in a thin layer of ice, infusing her stare with the rage she wanted to direct at Boden.

“Thank you,” Boden said over her shoulder. “I’m not sure what came over me.”

“I hope she was at least pretty,” Alvara muttered as she sloshed some of the water over the railing.

“Oh, I think anyone with a head on their shoulders would think so. I hope you don’t believe I would jump overboard for just anyone.”

His words only soured her mood, and she launched the bucket with such force on the next swing that the whole thing went flying overboard. One of the sailors hollered at her, and she cringed, lifting her hand in apology.

“Is something bothering you?”

She slowly pivoted to face Boden, whose mouth was stretched into a subtle grin. The mouth she could still taste, still feel pressed against hers with such desperation her blood simmered at just the thought.

Of course she wasn’t bothered. Not by the image of him locked in a kiss with that…thing. Or the memory of his touch exploring her skin like he wanted to claim all of her for himself.