Page 151 of In Rising Tides

Colors were muted, and shadows gathered at the edges of her vision.

Her breath stuttered through her lips, and tiny bubbles fled for the surface. She was jealous of them.

Drystan cupped her cheeks and moved slowly towards her.

She couldn’t move.

Her heart pounded against her ribs.

His eyes were just beginning to close before he slammed them open. Terror carved horrific lines across his face as his mouth stretched open in a silent scream.

In one swift move, he had flung her away from him.

Lyra slammed into the ledge and then collapsed onto the coral.

Her skin stung as it tore open against the reef and sea fans.

There was so much blood.

Too much for the small scrapes on her arms and stomach. She looked up to yell at him for assaulting her and saw the spearhead sticking out of his back.

A harpoon.

“Drystan!”

He let out a low bellow, clutching his side.

Her hands fluttered around him, trying to search for other injuries. His skin was feverish beneath her touch.

He batted her hands away.

“Stop,” he grunted. “Get back.”

Lyra scanned the surface, expecting to see a boat, but there was nothing.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

Shadows appeared in the distance, racing towards them. It was difficult for her to make out who or what they were.

Drystan grunted, gripping the shank in both hands and broke part of it off, leaving most of it still lodged in him.

More blood seeped from around his wound. It turned the water crimson, shifting the salty taste to iron.

“Get back to the palace,” he ordered. He outstretched the shank before him like he intended to wield it like a full-fledged weapon.

Drystan tried to shove her away with his other hand and nearly collapsed. “Get out of here!”

Lyra was frozen.

From the position of his wound and where her body had been a mere moment ago—she should have been dead.

The spear should have pierced her heart, and now it was embedded in Drystan’s torso.

“T-they were aiming f-for me,” she whispered, pressing her fingers to her chest as she stared at his wound.

He ground his teeth, his skin turning rapidly pale from the blood loss. “And I’ll slaughter them for it.”

He would bleed out or die in this battle, and yet—he was trying to save her.