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“Shit,shit! Livia! Livia, look at me.” I tilted her head in my hands. Her lashes fluttered. In another breath, I demanded—begged—the tides to get us back, to lift us,helpus. My mind was spinning, I hardly felt the thud of the hard deck of the ship when the sea tossed us aboard.
Hands shaking, I laid Livia on the deck. Gods, every one of her limbs were soaked in blood; new gashes kept splitting open.
“Livia!” Valen’s voice, frantic and fearful, came from across the deck.
In one tug, I stripped my shirt and took my own dagger to my middle. A long swipe, deep and swift.
“Erik!” Tait shouted. “Godsdammit, too much.”
There would never be a line, never be a limit, to what I would do to keep Livia Ferus breathing. Did he not know that?
Blood stained my stomach, my thighs. I wrapped my body around Livia’s, aligning her numerous open wounds with mine, and sang. Desperate, broken, the sound of my song was one I did not recognize.
Her body convulsed in my grip. I closed my eyes and focused, blocking all shouts, all voices.
A haze gathered in my mind, a sort of peace, and through it, a vision of Livia smiled.
I deepened my song, tightened my hold on her calm body. She wasn’t trembling anymore. In my mind, her smile widened. She waved for me to follow.
“Erik!” Someone called for me from a great distance, like their voice carried on the wind. I ignored them and reached out for Livia’s outstretched hand.
Some force pulled me away from her. I shook it off and tried to reach her again.
“Bloodsinger.” The voice was rough, deep. Familiar. A voice I’d heard since childhood. The earth bender’s voice. Another tug, and I lost my grip on Livia’s hand. I tried to fight my way back to her, tried to reach for her again.
Hands were on my skin. Too large to be my songbird’s. “Enough, boy. That was enough.”
The image of Livia’s face faded from my mind. Hovered over me was Valen Ferus. His hands were soaked in my blood. I understood, and in truth, I didn’t blame him for taking the strike he’d vowed to take as my payment for stealing her away.
At least Livia was free now.
I let my eyes close, resigned to my end, and my mind went dark.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE SONGBIRD
Haze blurred my vision,but I recognized the glass panes of the king’s window in his chamber on the Ever Ship. I was bleeding atop the soft blue quilt on the king’s cot. My eyes cracked enough to see strong hands on my blood-soaked skin, tenderly washing it away with a thin linen.
I knew those hands. They’d loved me since my earliest memories.
I tried to call to him, wanted to see the laughter I knew so well in those dark eyes, but words dried to ash in my throat, and I fell away into heady black.
When I woke again,I knew nothing of how long I’d been sleeping, only that it must’ve been a great while. My lips were cracked and dry, my throat parched and desperate for water.
I squinted and peered out the bubbled glass. Sea—beautiful, cerulean Ever Sea surrounded me at all sides. Ghostly mist hoveredover the white tips of waves, but a sliver of golden sunlight was chasing away the bleary night.
A soft groan slid out when I rolled onto my shoulder. Beside the bed was a clay basin and ewer. With wild hands, I snatched the ewer and tipped it against my mouth, drinking and drinking, until my tongue no longer stuck to my inner cheeks.
When I returned the ewer to its place, I startled.
There, seated in a wooden chair, his dark stubbled chin propped on the claw of his hand, was the first man I ever loved.
My father’s sleeping face was fatigued, but strong as always. Youthful, yet ancient with worry. Blood stained his hands, mine or his, I didn’t know. His breaths were steady as he slumbered, but his body was clenched in unease, as though he might step into battle at the slightest sound.
I sat up, the creak of the bed fluttering his eyes. My father dropped his arm, peered around the room for a breath, until his eyes locked with mine.
One heartbeat, and his face pinched. Two heartbeats, he shot off his chair. Three, and his arms, safe and strong, were holding me, the way they’d always done.
