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I open my eyes just in time to see the water rise and surge toward us. The ocean slams into me, knocking me back. It rushes over my head and I gasp, filling my lungs with salt water. The tide grows higher and higher, and I try desperately to reach the surface, but I can’t.
My chest burns with the need for air, but my body is being tossed every which way, and I can’t get my bearings. I start to choke, and I’m instantly reminded of the time I was caught in a current made by magic, when my father told my mother she was at fault. And now here I am again. It’s a different kind of magic, but drowning feels the same.
I thrash in the water, clawing for the surface, but I don’t know which way is up. I’m frantic for air, but I can’t find it. My muscles are tight and cramping, and my body suddenly feels heavy. So heavy.
I can’t keep fighting. I’m absolutely drained, an exhaustion more intense than after my most powerful rush. Slowly, my muscles relax and I let my eyelids close.
If the sea wants me, it will have me.
My lungs ache for another breath. I can’t get to the surface.
It will be over soon.
I sink lower and lower, the water in my lungs pushing me to the bottom.
I hit the sand, and then an arm wraps around my waist and my eyelids drift open.
Wolfe is holding me against his chest, kicking his legs. Kicking and kicking. I try to move, try to help, but I can’t. Everything goes dark.
Total silence.
Then suddenly I’m choking. I’m sprawled on the beach on my back, water spouting from my mouth like a fountain.
“Good, get it all out,” Wolfe is saying, gently holding up my head.
I keep coughing until I’m sure my lungs will end up on the rocky shore. But eventually the coughing stops, and a powerful fatigue moves through me. I don’t think I will ever stand again. Wolfe gently lets go of my head, and I lie back on the sand, staring up at the stars. He crouches next to me, stiff, as if he can’t decide if he should stay or go. Then, slowly, he lowers himself to the ground next to me.
His body is close to mine. If I moved my arm a single inch, it would rest against his. If I stretched my hand out, my pinkie would find his. I’ve only ever been this close to a man when dancing withLandon, but this feels different. I’m aware of myself in a way that’s entirely new, not out of self-consciousness or modesty, but something heady. More intense.
Everything about this night is new.
I suppose it’s normal to feel a pull toward him. He did save my life, after all.
The moon is starting to wane, and the stars are shining brightly overhead, thousands of sharp pinpricks in the curtain of night.
“Mortana,” Wolfe says beside me, keeping his eyes on the sky, “do you know what you just did?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “The spell got away from me; I don’t know what I was saying.”
“No,” Wolfe says, suddenly sitting up. He helps me into a seated position, and I watch him. “You pulled in the tide. On your own. Your very first time using high magic.”
Something like dread settles in my stomach.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he says.
“I’ve always loved to swim,” I whisper. “It’s like I’m bonded to the sea. I’ve always felt that way.”
“You’re incredible,” he says, so low I barely hear it.
“I’m incredible?”
He swallows hard and looks away. “I mean, what you did. What you did is incredible.”
You’re incredible.
I banish the words from my mind. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to stand,” I say, clearing his words from the air.
“That’s good,” Wolfe says. “That means you got enough magic out. You’re going to be fine.”
