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Chapter 25
Soren
When she slipped, I was pulled down with her. But I fought, and I managed to stay above the waterline, constantly sucking in the breaths I needed to swim to her. But every time, she kept pulling farther away from me, hitting rocks along the way. I had to get to her before it was too late, so I lifted her in my arms and held her against my chest.
But she wasn’t responsive.
Wasn’t breathing.
Still isn’t.
Not even as I swim both of us to the shore on the other side using the rocks in my way to guide me.
I lay her down on the rocks. She’s motionless and completely out of it.
She must’ve swallowed the water.
I pat her face, but she won’t wake up.
Fuck.
I won’t fucking let her die.
I refuse.
We’ve come too far for her to leave now. I still have my mission to complete. She still has life in her. And the mere thought of losing her has filled my heart with a kind of despair I’ve never felt before.
With one slice, I cut the rope between us in half. I place both hands on her chest and apply some pumps. “C’mon!”
I pump and pump, but nothing happens.
There’s only one thing left to try. It has to fucking work. Because if it doesn’t … I won’t be able to forgive myself.
I tilt her head and pinch her nose, smashing my mouth on hers as I blow in the air.
One. Two. Three times.
And then the water starts to flow.
And the dread settling in my body ceases to exist.
April
I cough up water and suck in the air like no tomorrow. My eyes burst open in a rush of panic swirling through my body as my brain is still trying to swim. But two beautiful eyes as blue as the ocean stop me and calm the storm raging in my heart.
He’s so close to me that I can feel his breath on my skin.
In fact … I can taste it … in my mouth.
My hand instinctively reaches for my face as my index finger touches my lips.
The same lips … he touched … with his.
Did he just kiss me?
“Soren?” My voice sounds like a mouse’s squeak.
The look on his face is a mixture of concern and relief as he snakes his burly arm underneath my neck and lifts me from the rock. I heave and let out more water, coughing it up until it’s all gone. Ragged breaths are interrupted by the simple gesture of his hand swiping away a strand of hair stuck to my face.
But it isn’t simple at all.
It’s sweet and gentle, and it quite literally takes my breath away.
“You’re alive …” he murmurs, his voice unsteady, unlike how I’ve heard him speak before.
And he pulls me in, nestling my head near his chest like he wants to keep me safe. Like he wants me to be close. And even though I’m still shivering to the bone, I don’t feel so cold anymore.
He tears his bag off his shoulder and takes out the blanket, wrapping it around my body before he lifts me up into his strong arms, carrying me farther away from the river.
And I can’t stop looking at that harsh face that suddenly doesn’t seem so harsh anymore. The soft hairs of his beard prickle my skin, which leaves me flustered as he takes us into a grassy area and places me down on the ground again. He sits down beside me and pulls me into his embrace, my head firmly planted against his chest as though he wants to keep me safe. And we stay there for a while, the silence around us broken only by the gusts of wind and chirping of the birds.
Every breath I take feels ragged and uneven. But not because I almost drowned.
It’s because I can hear his heart beat fast and faster as I lie here against him, just as mine does when his strong arms envelop me.
And it unchains something deep inside me that I don’t understand.
A longing.
I look up at his face marred with scars I’ve yet to understand, and for some reason, my hand instinctively reaches up to his scruffy beard, the prickles reminding me that I’m still alive.
He saved me.
He pulled me out of the water and brought me to the shore with sheer will alone.
And then he … kissed me.
I look up into his solemn eyes that peer ahead like he’s on the lookout for danger. And it’s almost as if he can sense that I’m looking because he tilts his head down, gazing at me from underneath those thick blond eyelashes, his jawline tensing when my fingers graze his beard.
Was it a dream?
Did he really plant his lips on mine, or did it all happen in my head?
“April … I thought I’d lost you there.”
