Black leather gloves. A pale arm.
My lungs exploded to life again with a strong slap against my back. The watery violet blood of the beating sphere spilled from my mouth and burned my throat as it left my body. I hacked and choked and sputtered for air while that strong arm remained wrapped around my shoulder, my back to the man who supported me.
“Do not fight the reflex,” said the lord from behind me. “You must purge yourself of the water.”
I’ve been here before. Not just in this place. In this very moment. The first dream in the cavern, when Jurij saved me from drowning.
And now he has stopped me from going back to where I was needed. Where I wanted to go.
The hand slapped my back again, and my throat widened, letting the water flow out in a steady stream. Despite the part of me that was reluctant to see it go, still glowing violet even as it poured from within my body, it came easier with each blow.
The hand reaching across my chest slid softly to grasp onto my left shoulder just as I felt the hand that had struck me grasp hold of my right. The hands were wrapped tightly in gloves of black leather—wet leather. But I had already guessed as soon as I heard his voice. There was no one else to rescue me now.
“Olivière,” he said. “You could have died.”
I felt gentle pressure across the back of my head, the tickle of breath as it whisked past my ear.
“Do not try that again,” he said. His hands squeezed my shoulders harder. “Please.”
His arms wrapped tightly across my collarbone, his hands coming to rest on the opposite shoulder. He still wore his leather jacket. The smell of wet leather made my stomach rise with a sharp new wave of nausea.
He rustled slightly, thanks to the telltale squeak of his wet leather pants. I felt soft, damp feathers against my cheek and then a light pressure against my right ear. His hair, his lips … he wasn’t wearing his veil. And he had kissed me!
I lurched forward, hacking again. I met some resistance from him at first. It annoyed me to find that even with all of my strength I couldn’t push his arms off of me. But he let go of my shoulders and let me fall loosely forward. His hands caught me again around the chest before I could hit the ground. Nothing came out of my throat, but I couldn’t stop retching.
“Let go … of … me!” I managed to sputter between hacking. Falling forward, I tried to use the small window of time my command afforded me to flip around, to turn my body to face him and let my eyes assault the sanctity of his face, but within moments, I felt a hand push hard against my shoulder, forcing me to lay face down.
“Don’t!” His voice seemed all the more commanding as it echoed with the life force of the cavern.
We stayed still a moment longer, locked into our positions. With my cheek flat against the cavern floor, I faced the pool with my back to the darkness down the entry passage.
The hand released me. The cavern echoed with the steady pounding of his boots, which muted the sound of the rustling, wet leather.
“Rise,” he said. His voice was once again composed, but there was an edge of iciness that conveyed everything.
I rolled over, fighting the pounding in my head. I sat up and stared at him. He’d retrieved his black veil from the darkness and had tied it around his head once more, placing the hat atop it. They were the only items of clothing he wore that weren’t soaked. He towered over me, his arms akimbo, his legs slightly parted. I didn’t see any of the specters.
I struggled to stand on my shaky legs. The lord’s legs trembled slightly forward, but he stood his ground. Until I lost hold of mine.
He swooped in to steady me, and I pushed his chest, much like Alvilda had done with Jaron.
The sudden comparison brought fresh pain to the ache in my chest. Right after the kiss. Right before Jurij was taken by the heartless monster.
“Stand back,” I told him, not bothering to disguise the bitter taste in my mouth. “The smell of wet leather is making me sick.”
He let me go and took two steps backward.
I stumbled over to one of the spikes jutting from the ground and used its sharp edge as a grip with which to steady myself.
“You are nothing but ungrateful.” Iciness.
I sneered. “Oh, I’m sorry. Thank you ever so much for injuring my dearest friend and then ripping him from my sister’s arms on the day of their wedding.”
The lord laughed coldly. “It seems to me that you and your dearest friend had done enough on your own to ruin the celebration before my arrival.”
I scrambled to my knees and drew myself up to stand as tall as I could, trying to match his height and ignoring the wobbliness in my legs. “That’s no concern of yours!”
“It is, my goddess, every concern of mine!” He started walking back and forth a few paces before the pool. “Have you no idea of the curse by which you have bound me?”