Ludo didn’t think, simply reacted, slinging one arm back to grab the closest thing he could find—a gnarled bush—thorns stabbing into his palm. Then, praying the bush’s roots were deeper than they looked, he extended his other hand in the opposite direction, leaning out over the cliff.

Right toward where the woman was tumbling. Their eyes met and he saw the moment she knew she wasn’t going to make it, that he was the only one who could save her, their hands coming together and then—

Clamping down upon one another. Her grip was like iron, nearly matching his own, but that didn’t stop her weight from jerking him downwards. With a pop! he felt his arm dislocate from his shoulder, the pain exploding in a single point and then radiating outwards. He growled through it, refusing to let go, even as their sweaty hands began to slide against one another. “Climb up me!” he commanded. “With haste!” His opposite hand was struggling to maintain its grip on the bundle of branches he’d forced together, thorns ripping free as they dug deeper into his palm.

The woman didn’t need to be told twice, using his wounded arm like a rope, climbing hand over hand so fast she might’ve been part monkey. One of her feet squashed his ear as she clambered over him, but he gritted his teeth through it all, even as stars began to explode before his eyes from the immense pain.

Of course, that’s when his weight finally decided to uproot the bush he was using as his anchor. With nothing to tether him to solid ground, he pitched forward toward the furious waves and whatever lurked beneath them, those hungry, malevolent predators hoping a fool like him would tumble from the cliffs.

He stopped in midair, body angled away from the cliffs on a forty-five-degree angle. He looked back to find the woman with both heels dug in, her hands clamped on the rope still tethered to his belt. “Now we’re even,” she said, pulling him back as though he weighed as much as a sparrow and not a solid fifteen stone without clothing on.

He tumbled into her lap before she could scamper away. “Even?” he said. “I wouldn’t have been in danger if not for your foolishness.”

“You were never in danger, not really. I grabbed the rope even before the bush decided it was tired of holding you.”

He shook his head, snorting through his nose even as pain flared again. “Tell that to my shoulder,” he said through gritted teeth. “Do you have rocks hidden in your pockets? A suit of armor beneath that man’s shirt?”

“It’s not a man’s shirt. Or at least not anymore. I had it tailored for a perfect fit. Now get off me.”

“I’d rather rest a while if it’s all the same to you. My shoulder is badly—”