Page 25 of In Rising Tides

The temperature of the water was chilly; not cold, but not inviting either. A few starfish clung to the coral wall beside the round window on the far side of her room.

She pulled herself from the large shell and swam in a slow, tight circle, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Something whispered in the back of her mind.

There was a change, but she saw nothing out of place.

Lyra came to a halt in front of the door. Its tall, looming presence was the first sign of her imprisonment here.

Her father had the colossal metal door installed the first time she’d tried to run away.

It was bewitched not to rust, a fact she’d learned when she tried to speed up the deterioration process by clawing away the top coating.

Lyra pressed her ear against the scratches she had gouged and listened. All she heard was the water.

The ebb and flow of the constant current and something … in the distance.

It sounded like Wilder’s voice.

She knew she was imagining things, that her mind had conjured him up because of the emotional state of her heart.

But it didn’t stop her from imagining it was him.

“I will come for you.”

Lyra clutched her chest and was surprised when she felt nothing. Her necklace was gone.

She let the water push her away from the door, and when her back met the wall, she slumped to the silt floor.

The small window above her let in a fraction of the rays from the sun above the surface. It was warm there in the small flickers of light.

She curled her lavender-and-green tail around herself, and silt plumed around her like a cloud. Her room had been untouched in her absence—and uncleaned, it appeared.

The water here smelled insipid as if it were lacking in the salt of the rest of the palace. She waved away the cloud and coughed from dust.

Heartache gnawed at her raw edges, and she could have sworn she heard Wilder still calling, promising to come for her.

She pushed those thoughts far down, tucking them away in the deepest parts of her.

There were bigger things she had to tackle now, and she couldn’t think straight if she allowed him to haunt her.

Wilder would not let his feelings for her dissuade him into inaction.

No. He would have a plan in place and would be on his way to making it happen at this very moment.

Knowing him, he would have already set sail. With the wind at his back, propelled by his magic, he would be on the path to finding her. She nodded as that thought filled her with a steady calmness, strengthening her resolve.

Wilder would save her, but first she had to uphold the bargain she had made with his father. Or she wouldn’t be alive for him to find.

Lyra reached inwards for her magic. But the thread of gold around her heart was still dull, not pulsing with power as it had on the beach. Her chest was hollow.

Complete and utter emptiness.

Bleak and heavy, it dragged her down like an anchor until she hit the bottom.

Flashes of Wilder surging through the waves coming after her played on repeat. His strong legs propelled him through the surf.

A shock of black hair shining iridescently under the deluge of saltwater that soaked him with each wave he pushed through. But it was his face that held her mind.