Page 77 of The Stolen Crown

I glanced at the ground. “We don’t have a tune.”

A low hum, smooth as black satin, rose from his throat. Gods, Sea Folk voices were mesmerizing. The lot of them. Much like the sea singer and his haunting tune, Tait Heartwalker’s voice was sweet and low, a hook in my chest reeling me in.

I schooled my features into something flat. “I suppose that’ll work.”

Tait smiled, threaded his fingers with mine, tugged me against his body, then winced.

“We shouldn’t do this.” I backed away.

“No.” Tait kept his eyes closed, his fingers tracing the divots of my spine. “Stay. It…it doesn’t hurt in the same way.”

I let out a rough gasp. “Touch hurts you?”

Tait’s cheek rested against the side of my head. “Usually.”

I was a wretch. An utter beast. Touch brought him pain, and all my fears were about myself, my own insecurities. I’d made his struggle entirely about me. Damn the hells, perhaps I deserved his disdain.

Brow furrowed, I stepped nearer, letting my cheek fall to his heart, swaying to its steady beat.

How long we remained in such a state, wrapped around each other, I didn’t know. Little by little, my body eased into his. Gods, it was as though he was made for me. My head fit perfectly beneath his chin. Tait’s long arms encircled me like a solid, gentle shield.

For a moment it felt as though nothing had gone wrong at all. As though this isle were ours and we never had to leave it, never had to face the world again.

Unbidden, my fingertips dug deeper into his shoulder.

Tait flinched.

“Dammit, I’m sorry.” I pulled back.

Tait shook his head and returned my palm to his skin. “It’s an instinct. You don’t hurt the same.”

“I don’t want to hurt you at all.”

“I reacted to the yellowfin poorly, but I had to stop the sensation, it…it felt like stingers kept attacking under my skin.”

“Because you touched me.” I dropped my chin.

Tait tightened his hold on me. “Because I panicked. I couldn’t see straight and allowed my mind to convince myself you might not survive even with the poison drained. I had to soothe it.”

Soothe the pain. The panic. The rush of fear that left Tait Heartwalker, a brutal, bloodthirsty sort of man, wanting to claw off his own flesh.

“Does touch always cause you pain?” Tait tried to look away, but I brushed my fingertips along the edge of his jaw. “No. We’re not doing that anymore. Only truths between us from now on, Heartwalker.”

His gaze locked with mine. “You mean, Hearttalker.”

I snorted a laugh. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“I hate to be touched,” Tait said.

I drew my bottom lip between my teeth and nodded. “I already assumed.”

Tait hesitated. “I will tolerate it in small doses, of course, but too much and it always feels like rot is beneath my skin. I want to retch, want to claw it out. I know it sounds mad.”

“I don’t believe I’ve said that yet. In fact, this is quite possibly the least mad thing I’ve ever heard.”

Tait’s grin was softer. “Liar.”

“Go on. You were just getting to the good part.” My fingertips teased some of the hair on the back of his neck.