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 with Landon, 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.”
I can feel that it’s true. My body is even weaker than it is after a rush.
I’m going to be fine.
I’m going to live.
“Thank you for what you did.”
Wolfe searches my eyes for several seconds, then turns away. “You’re welcome.”
We sit in silence for a long time. The sky turns a deep velvet blue, and I know I have to get home before my parents wake.
“How do you do it?” I ask. I should leave, but for the first time in my life, I want to extend the night.
“Do what?”
“Stay hidden. What kind of a life is that?”
“It’s a full one,” he says. “It isn’t perfect, but it’s ours.”
“But how is it that we don’t know about your coven? How is that possible?”
He shifts next to me, as if he’s trying to decide how much he wants to share. “The home we live in is protected by magic,” he says. I wait for him to elaborate, to explain how magic can shield them like that, but he doesn’t. “We’re pretty self-sufficient. We grow a lot of our own food, and the island provides for us in many ways. When we need to go into town, we use a spell that allows us to be perceived as tourists. Nobody gives us a second glance.”
“Have you seen me before?” I ask, the words whisper-soft.
He turns away from me and looks at the ocean. I don’t think he’ll answer the question, but then he lets out one tense word: “Yes.”