Page 34 of Hearts Lost

I shake my head to dispel the image, then clear my throat.

“Right,” I say, in a voice that sounds like a cough. “Okay. So, what do you suggest?”

She makes an elegant little shrug. “If you could just, uh, turn away?”

I do as she says. There’s a rustling sound behind me and, curse the voids, my mind fills in what she’s probably doing in lurid detail. Fuck. I close my eyes, squeeze my hands into fists, and try to focus on my breathing, all of which does very little to dissuade my cock from pressing against the seam of my pants in undeniable interest.

There’s a splash behind me. She must be getting in the water.

“Wait,” I call.

I’m answered by another, smaller splash.

“Close your eyes,” I say.

“Okay,” she responds.

It sounds like she’s standing at the water’s edge. I tug my shirt over my head and then pull off my pants as quickly as possible, trying to hide my obvious physical reaction to the sounds of her undressing. The cold water should take care of that soon enough. I bend down, tie my sword, clothes, and boots onto the bundle in a messy, messy knot that would earn me at least one demerit back in the Royal Guard, pull the whole thing over my shoulders, and then practically jump into the river, all the while keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the waterfall.

And the water’s not cold. Shit. The river’s almost as warm as a bath right now. Maybe that means we’re spinning further and further away from the Outer Ring. I try to feel something about that, disappointment or worry or anything, but it’s hard to think with half the blood in my body pounding through my groin.

Fuck me. I have to get away from this woman.

“Okay,” I call. “I’m in.”

There’s another splash behind me, and then a gasp. I turn to see Ithronel, her dark eyes sparkling, her curls floating around her neck and swirling over the pack tied to her shoulders.

“It’s warm!” she says.

Voids fucking damn it, she’s beautiful. I give her a stiff nod.

“Let’s go,” I say.

Together, we swim toward the waterfall. The air grows thick with mist, and water rumbles all around us. When it begins to froth and churn, I reach for Ithronel’s hand and knot our fingers together. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted. For a fleeting moment, I wish there was something I could say to her, some way to voice my admiration for the way she’s survived, the way not even the void could defeat her smile or steal her laughter. But it’s so loud here that she’d never hear me.

So, instead, I take a deep breath and pull her under.

Water pounds against my body, shoving and tugging, as I kick my body beneath the waves. Ithronel’s hand is warm against mine, her fingers tight around my fist. Something knocks against my back and rolls over my body, and then I feel like I’m being shoved upward, like I’m lifting into the sky. Images tumble over themselves in my mind; the explosion in the teleportation hub, black tendrils wrapping around the king’s magicians and slowly transforming into waving stalks of blue grass. The light drains from the world as my lungs burn, and I think, at least she’s here.

At least we’re together.