Page 97 of In Rising Tides

They struggled to retain neutral expressions, but the looks they kept sharing spoke enough about their worry.

“You’re hurting me,” Lyra said, trying to pry his fingers from her arm. She felt the blood pulse under her skin where he squeezed.

Drystan’s teeth were clenched so tightly she was surprised his teeth weren’t breaking. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t kill you myself.”

Lyra blanched. She didn’t know if she wanted to know the reason for his fury, but she knew she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“What is it that you think I’ve done?” she asked, more steadily than she thought possible.

He obviously knew there was a bargain, but did he know the terms?

And with whom she made it?

The water was claws ripping at her hair and skin as he propelled them swiftly towards the council chambers.

“You don’t get to ask any more questions!” he thundered as he yanked them to a halt.

His eyes glowed as they scoured her face, his nostrils flaring wide. “Tell me you didn’t. Tell me the scout is mistaken.”

Lyra pulled herself violently from his hold and kept her eyes trained on his face. “I can’t refute any information without you telling me what the fuck is going on. You yanked me from my room without the decency of letting me dress and then threatened to kill me!”

She looked pointedly at the nightclothes she still wore. The gossamer gown fluttered just above her waist and was just thick enough not to be sheer.

Her hair floated wildly around her, with snarls and tangles still visible from her restless sleep.

His eyes slid closed, as if regretting the brashness of his actions, and she found herself finally taking a breath now that she was released from the ferocity of his attention.

Drystan opened his mouth and then slammed it shut as he inhaled sharply through his nose.

“Did you—” he began before opening his eyes. They glowed just as violently as they had before.

It made her throat tighten. She felt fear, real fear that he would hurt her.

“Make a bargain with the High King?”

Fuck.

Lyra held perfectly still, not even so much as narrowing her gaze. She knew this day would come, but still dreaded it all the same.

Would they execute her now?

Aegir would be pleased with that, having finally made an example of her.

Drystan reared back and then slammed his fist into the wall beside her head.

He roared with fury.

The sound was so abrupt and loud that she flinched.

Tiny pieces of coral broke off from the wall and fluttered to the floor. Large, pulsing veins bulged on his forehead and neck as his chest vibrated.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he heaved.

Heat radiated off him, carried by the ever-present current.

Lyra slid her attention from his face to his bare torso that nearly grazed hers. “I survived a position you thrust me into.”

Drystan reeled back as if she had struck him. “I can’t save you, not from this.”