“Grab a railing. Brace yourself,” Magnus yelled as they crested another huge wave, tilting almost vertical.
Liam made a run for the wheel, as if that would help them, as if there were anywhere to steer, but his legs got swept out from under him as the spray from the top of the deck washed over him.
He slid helplessly over the deck as Magnus dove, grabbing his captain and friend by the hand the pulling him back before he could be dragged over the railing.
Liam recovered, giving Magnus a look that was half gratitude, half terror, and they looked over at Titus, who was holding on to the rail a little ways away from them.
His ice-blue eyes said everything as he stared at them. They were in big trouble.
The deck was taking on water, but it had been tightly sealed, so it slid right off. Hopefully, they could hold on until this storm passed. Maybe it’d be strong, but not of a long duration.
Suddenly, they crested another wave and heard a loud cracking noise. Magnus realized with alarm that the main mast holding the lone sail in the center of the ship was breaking.
That should have been impossible. While Magnus panicked, Titus ran for the mast and used his incredible strength to brace against it. Magnus ran to help him, grabbing the main rope to try and pull it so the sail stayed up, helping them pull against the wind.
Titus had his back against the mast, his arms behind him bracing it, and his eyes locked on Magnus, intense and focused.
Liam ran over to stand beside him.
“Magnus,” he said. “We’re going down. Should we swim for it?”
“No,” Magnus said. “Wait for it. We can make it.”
“We’re too far from shore,” Titus said, looking out over the waves hopelessly. “We won’t make it.”
“What do we do?” Liam asked. “Magnus?”
But Magnus was distracted, his breath catching, heart freezing, as he watched a huge wave rise over Liam and Titus. Impossibly huge. This one would take them to the bottom of the ocean.
It would be fast. He wasn’t going to tell them.
These men had been his best friends, his constant companions, and he had failed them.
They’d been dead the minute the mast had broken.
He closed his eyes as the wave overtook them, hoping it would be over quick.
Magnus awoke gasping, coughing, the taste of saltwater in his throat. He thrashed, looking for something to hold on to, and stopped when his hand brushed over something warm and solid.
Lindy.
He tuned into her breath, into the feel of her body, as she slowly turned over and looked at him with sleepy eyes.
When she realized he was distraught, she sat up immediately, holding on to his arms.
“Magnus, Magnus, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He looked into her eyes. He couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t tell her he’d failed his crew mates. Couldn’t tell her he felt guilty for even being here, getting something so good, when it was his fault they’d all landed at the bottom of the ocean.
Couldn’t tell her that despite the way he tried to be happy for her and help her move on, the past still had a hold on him.
Couldn’t tell her he was a hypocrite for wanting to know everything about her, but not wanting her to know anything about him.
He reached up and stroked her hair back, knowing deep in his heart that if it weren’t for the oracle and the other dragons who had found him, everything for him and Liam and Titus would have ended.
Was this fate’s design that he should be with her now, or was it simply more than he deserved for his failures?
He rested his forehead against hers, grateful for her patient silence.
He’d gotten what he’d wanted tonight, so much closeness, so much warmth with her, yet the nightmares were still here, threatening to take him back to the darkness.
What were they trying to tell him?
He looked into her eyes, sleepy and soothing, and told himself to calm down. To let go.
They weren’t going to sink again. He’d gotten a second chance to be with his mate.
He wasn’t going to ruin it now.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Talk to me.”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You aren’t,” she said. “You aren’t any more fine than I am. You think I don’t see you? I know you have nightmares. I’ve been trying to stay out of it, but I need to know. I deserve to, I think, now that we’ve gotten this far.”
Bitterness welled up in him. Defensiveness at her poking at his secrets. “What, because you’re willing to mate me now? You won’t make me wait any longer?”
She pulled back from him, frowning, and sat back on the bed, putting distance between them. Her beautiful hair was still loose and over her shoulder, and she was holding a sheet in front of her nakedness.
She looked like a Viking princess, and he wanted to lean forward and hold her.
But he wasn’t happy, carefree Magnus right now.
He was dark Magnus, obsessed with the mistakes of his past. Obsessed that he hadn’t seen it coming.
“How can I trust you if you shut off like this? I’ve told you my most painful moments,” she said. “I mean, not in great detail, but… yeah. We all have bad moments.”
But he hadn’t caused hers.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “You say we’re meant to be together, that it’s fated in the stars. That you’ll do anything. But you won’t tell me why you cry out at night.”
He hated the sound of it. It made him sound so weak.
He just wanted to be strong for her. Get things done. Fix everything. Make her happy.
Earn. Her. Love.
Somehow deserve to be happy again.
Maybe if she would just agree to be his…
“Mate me,” he said. “I know you love me. You showed me last night.”
She bit her lip. “I told you. It means a lot to me to go slow.”
He threw his fist down on the covers, making the mattress shake. “Fuck slow. I can’t wait anymore.” When would the next wave come to ruin everything?
What if fate was always going to fuck him over? What if he was never in control?
That ship had been perfect. He knew it for sure. And if he could do his best then and get totally fucked over, it could happen again.
He wouldn’t let fate rob him of his mate again. He took her gently by the shoulders. “Please. Mate me,” he said. “I promise I’ll make it worth it.”
She shook her head and slowly pulled back. “Magnus, not like this. I need more time. I need to focus on work.”
“Fuck work,” he said. “This is more important.”
“No,” she said. “It isn’t, Magnus. I’m trying to adjust to you, to having someone in my life, but whatever is freaking you out right now, this isn’t the answer.”
“Is it that, or are you just afraid?” he asked. “Afraid that you do know it’s right, but you don’t want to risk getting close to someone again?”
“You aren’t my shrink, Magnus.”
“Shrink?”
“Therapist. Mental health professional. Stay out of my head.”
He let out an impatient breath. “Fine.”