They swam past the breakers toward smoother water. Cutting through the waves pushed her beyond thought, turning her into pure action. It took strength and yet it demanded surrender as well. It was both, folded into one. Aria only caught glimpses of Perry when she came up for air, but she knew he was right there.

When they finally waded out onto the beach, she was in desperate need of warmth, but she felt better than she had in weeks. The cold had numbed her arm, allowing her to move freely without guarding herself against pain.

Perry pulled her to his side. “What did you think?” he asked, smiling.

“I think you should look more tired.” He’d moved through the water with the same power and effortlessness with which he did everything.

“Not with you to look forward to. Let’s get a fire going.”

Shivering, Aria hurried to gather driftwood. Nearby, Perry hoisted a large piece over his shoulder. He seemed unbothered by the bruises that still covered his arms and legs. Shaking a strand of seaweed from a branch, she remembered a story Roar had told her.

“Did you really sneak into the compound once wearing only seaweed?” she asked.

“Had to.” He dropped the wood onto a growing pile. “Liv swiped my clothes. It was either seaweed or nothing, and I wasn’t keen on the idea of strutting into the compound completely bare.” He smiled. “For days afterward I woke up to seaweed hanging on my front door.”

Aria laughed. “The Tides wanted an encore?”

Perry knelt and began stacking the wood. “Never found out. . . . It was probably Liv again. She was like that. She could never let something go.”

Aria couldn’t see his face, but she knew from the tone in his voice that he wasn’t smiling anymore. While it hurt to see him suffer, it felt better than seeing him retreat behind walls. Liv was gone, but he was letting her back into his life in a new way.

“I wish I’d known her better, Perry,” she said, adding her wood to the pile.

“If you spent an hour with her, then you knew Liv. My sister was . . . she was . . .”

He trailed off, so she finished for him. “Like you.”

“I was going to say willful and hardheaded.” He smiled. “So, yeah . . . like me.” He took a piece of flint and a dagger from the sheath at his belt. “How’s your arm?”

“Surprisingly good,” she said, sitting on the sand.

“I knew you’d be fine. What’ll really be surprising is if I can get this lit.” He turned his back to the wind, bending over his hands. He had sparks flinging into the tinder within seconds. She watched him blow the flames to life, consumed by him. He was as wild as the fire. As vital as the ocean. His own element.

He peered up as the fire took and smiled. “Impressed?”