Page 130 of In Violent Waves

Her kiss was invigorating and breathed life into his very soul.

Lyra gripped a fistful of the tunic covering his chest and pulled him to her. Wilder let her, feeling her need build. Her arousal twirled in the storm wind around them and raised goosebumps on his flesh.

She wasn’t a mermaid but a siren, and he was falling under her spell. He now knew why the mortals went willingly if it felt anything like this.

They parted, gasping for air before she rose on her toes. Wrapping a hand around his neck, she tugged him back down and kissed him reverently. He couldn’t remember why they had even hated each other to begin with.

She was perfect. His lips parted, and in a move that surprised him, she slipped her tongue inside his mouth with a slight flick. He felt the vibrations of that movement all the way down to the bulge in his pants that stirred.

He had never been aroused by just a kiss, and yet—she had. He wanted only more of her.

When they broke apart again, the lust in her gaze rivaled the storm clouds that had passed over them. The rain slowed before stopping. Tiny droplets of light shone all around them as the sun broke through.

Lyra shivered again, and Wilder pulled away.

“Let’s get you back before you catch a cold.”

She frowned before he wrapped an arm around her and tugged her flush to his side. She bit her lip to hide her smile, and he worked to slow his rapid heart rate.

Lyra had burrowed even further under his skin, and he found he didn’t mind one bit.

They walked, wrapped around each other, to the carriage and set off for the sea.

As the carriage bumbled through the rocky hills and the tall forests, Lyra slept in Wilder’s arms. He watched her as she slept, and it reminded him of the first night they had spent together. Yet now she did not stir with nightmares.

She was enchanting, even during her slumber. It wound itself around him, making him feel things he hadn’t thought himself capable of before.

He didn’t know if it had been the kiss they shared or if it was him feeling free for the first time in a long while.

Wilder enjoyed listening to her talk about the books she read and the new surprises the land had afforded her. It was obvious she missed the sea, but the land called to her all the same. It was as if she were from both places.

That was unusual for him. He could only ever be from the Wilds. It was at the very core of his being—the magic of this place. Even with all its faults, he loved it.

Lyra sighed in her sleep, and he gripped her to his chest, hoping to calm whatever ailed her. Without thinking, he brushed his lips against her temple. He hadn’t meant to kiss her again—but he had.

It had felt natural, like a habit. She smelled of crisp rain.

He sighed, and his breath fluttered the soft petals of the white flowers still tucked within her braid.

It was strange.

For someone who didn’t like to know his future, he enjoyed looking at her.

Lyra opened her eyes at the first whiff of salty air. The carriage still bounced along the uneven path, and she felt Wilder’s arms tighten around her with the latest jostle. His head rested against the coach wall, and his eyes were closed. She had never slept so peacefully before, and she thought it might have something to do with him.

He relaxed further, slumping against the cushions when she eased herself out of his arms. Lyra looked out at the rocky shore as they drove parallel to it. She did not know where they were or how long they had been on the road.

The day had passed in a blur. From paddling through the swamp to lounging underneath the ancient willow. Or had it been two days already? She wasn’t quite sure.

They had stopped on the way for her to bathe in one of the hot springs and change her clothes. Daisy had outdone herself packing all manner of clothes, shoes, and books.

Lyra would forever be grateful to Daisy for packing a handful of novels between layers of gowns and nightclothes. It was a small kindness, but Lyra couldn’t stop smiling when thinking about the care Daisy had taken to ensure the books were safe.

Stretching her arms up over her head, the violet gown she had donned rippled against her skin. The dress itself reminded her of the water at night.

She leaned against the window and watched the sea smash against the rocks. Sprays of sea foam burst into the sky as she sighed.

Lyra had felt like a rock being pummeled by life. Now, she felt like the water being pulled along by the tide.