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I strode out across the sand. Waves rushed toward me, reaching with foamy fingers for my toes. When those fingers raced up and over my feet, a shudder that was part pleasure, part relief, ran through me. I stopped and stripped off the T-shirt, then the bandages, tossing them both back up on the beach. The wind caught them, flinging them backward, well out of the reach of the sea.

The waves roared as they rolled toward the pristine sands, the sound seeming to hit the cliffs and spin back, until the night was filled with the cry of the ocean. I flung my arms wide, breathing deep, filling my lungs with the cold, salty air, feeling it wash through every muscle, every cell, invigorating, renewing. There was power in the sharpness of the night and in the chill of the water, and my sudden laugh swirled across the waves, mingling joyously.

I was home. Maybe not my actual home, but the home of heart. My soul.

I continued on into the water and, when I was deep enough, dove under the waves. The icy water caressed my skin, a lover’s touch that soothed and healed. The itching vanished, replaced by a feeling of wholeness. The sea replenishing what the day had taken away.

I played in the waves, diving under and over, a fish who had no fins or tail. I have no idea how long I stayed there, but it must have been hours, because the moon was losing its strength by the time I began to make my way back to the shore.

Only then did I realize I was not alone in the cold, starry night.

I hesitated, but a wave hit my butt, forcing me on. I smiled, half wondering if the ocean was sick of my presence, but took the hint and kept moving.

Trae rose as I approached the sand, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight, filled with heat, filled with desire. His gaze slid down my body as I left the grip of the waves, and my skin prickled and warmed.

I knew in that moment that no matter how much I wanted to honor Egan’s death by showing a little bit of restraint, I wouldn’t. Not if the opportunity now arose. The night and the sea were filled with magic, and the longing to share it all with another was very much a part of who I was, what I was.

His gaze rose, annoyance warring with desire in those rich blue depths. “Why didn’t you tell me you had to come down here? I just about had a heart attack when I walked into the living room and found you gone.”

I stopped several feet away from him. “I’m sorry. It didn’t even cross my mind, and it should have.”

He contemplated me for a few moments, his spicy, masculine scent swirling around me, teasing my senses, stirring desire.

“That water is icy, and yet you come out of it glowing with warmth rather than cold. A gift of your heritage, I gather?”

I nodded. “We don’t have to change in the water—except if we want to go deep or stay under for longer periods. And my skin is always cold at night.”

“I noticed.”

A smile teased my lips. “So the thief has stolen a caress or two?”

His own smile emerged. “The thief has. And he has no regrets.” He took several steps, closing the distance between us before raising a hand, lightly brushing strands of hair away from my cheek, his fingers so warm, so tender against my skin.

“Why is the water so important to you? Besides the fact that you’re a sea dragon, of course.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did no one teach you about your undersea cousins?”

“My family barely even taught us about the other cliques. Draman may not be killed, but they don’t get the same sort of education as full bloods.”

“Ah. Well, it’s because if I do not immerse myself under some form of water every twenty-four hours, I will die.”

“So it doesn’t have to be seawater?”

“I survived eleven years in that facility without seawater, so it doesn’t seem like it.”

But even as I said the words, doubt crowded my mind. What if there were side effects, and I just didn’t know about them? After all, my mom had been insistent that I get away from that place quickly. So what if it wasn’t just because of Dad, but because I was reaching the end of my limits, sea-wise?

I shivered and rubbed my arms. Trae immediately took off his coat. “Here, take this.”

I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay naked and cold and a part of the night and the magic, but there was something in his eyes—a steel that would brook no arguments. And why stand here and argue when there were many more interesting things we could be doing? So I slipped my arms into the sleeves, breathing deep the dual scent of leather and man, then let him slide up the zipper. His hands lingered near the top, his fingers brushing oh-so casually across my breasts.

“I notice the bullet wound is almost healed.”

I nodded. “The sea always heals. It is her gift to us.”

His hands slid down my arms, lightly rubbing, sending little shocks of electricity through the leather and across my skin. “I think we’d better get you inside.”

His voice was edged with a huskiness that had my hormones dancing. “Or we could stay here, and talk about whatever pops up.”


Tags: Keri Arthur Myth and Magic Paranormal