As I pushed out of my crewwomen’s grasp, the blanket dropped off my shoulders and landed with a wet thud on the deck. I rushed to Rylander’s side as he sat upright. Embracing his knees, he drew slow breaths through chattering teeth.

I opened his arms like a door and scooted between his legs, sitting on my shins. My fingers brushed back his darkened, sopping hair so I could look into his sparkling, silver eyes. I grabbed his face between my hands, letting my thumb caress his barely-there dimple. The ghost of an arrogant, lilting smile painted his blue lips as his eyes raked over my wet form. He wrapped a rogue, dripping curl behind my ear, stirring a flutter deep inside my stomach.

Inch by inch, I moved in closer. My lips brushed his ear, and he shivered. “If you ever do something like that again, I will kill you myself.”

Chapter twenty-five

Rylander

Two whole days passed. Sleep came and went as I recovered while The Freedom sailed toward Anthemusa. My limbs ached. My throat itched. My ears pounded. Between slumbers, my mind wandered. I remembered everything until the moment I ran out of breath and then nothing until I retched all over the deck. I couldn’t pry any details from Smitter about Lou jumping in to save me, only that he’d dove when we resurfaced and swam the buoy out.

I rapped my knuckles against the hard wood of Lou’s door. For the last ten minutes, I paced back and forth trying to unearth something poignant to say. I worked out the many ways I could express my gratitude and ask my questions in front of the mirror in my quarters. Thankfully, no one walked in on the absurd sight. But every practiced word sounded like the beginning of an argument with Lou. Communication was not her strong suit, and I irked her in ways unknown and unintended. I’d seen the rage pulsing in her neck when she’d threatened me on the deck, but I’d also noted the fear in her enlarged pupils before she’d lashed out. But why was she so furious? I simply couldn’t understand.

She opened the door a sliver, most of her body still protected behind it. Her eyes were rimmed with a sleepless red, her wheat-colored hair in tangled bundles.

“What do you want?” A sharp edge seeped into her voice. She gripped the door, ready to shut it again, but I put my foot in the opening. Her brow rose.

“Can I come in?” When she didn’t answer, I inclined my head. “Please.”

Her proud spine sagged with exhaustion. “Fine.” She pivoted and retreated to her armchair across the room. She covered her chemise with a wool blanket wrapped around her shoulders and curled her bare feet under herself.