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It’s probably a weird thought to be having after a strange fucking water beast pulls you into a creek while you are trying to do your lunch dishes. I only saw the monster briefly before they pulled me under. They had smiled guilelessly, blinking their doe-like black eyes.
I had fuckingwavedandsmiledat them before they gripped my wrist with their webbed and clawed hands and pulled me in. And now I am trapped.
Their claws dig painfully into my skin as I try to fight back, to fight my way back to the surface. But my hands can’t find purchase on their slick skin as they continually drag me down into the creek water. The bastard seems impervious to the blows of my fists and elbows.
They’re not onlystrong,they’re vicious. Razor-sharp teeth are far too close to my eyes as they flare the barbed frills framing their face, holding me tight, pinning me as they repeatedly barrel roll to drown me in the once crystal-clear waters. I swear they are releasing a weird pulsing sonar echo under the water as they spin us, piercing my ears and making my head pound with every pulse.
The need to breathe seizes my chest. I am disorientated, black spots clouding my vision, my brain choking on the pulsing echo and the need for oxygen. Everything in my being screams at me to justfight.
The mermaid keeps a solid hold on me as I begin to weaken, thrashing its muscular, scaled tail so hard against my legs it feels as if it may snap my bone.
This is it. The thought rolls through my head.I am not getting out of this.I have been under too long and the beast is too strong. My vision blurs in the churning water, black eyes eager to watch the life fade from me, their jaggedtooth-filled mouth pulled into a joyous snarl. A final flood of rage fills me and I slam my head into where their nose should be, but they just hiss and headbutt me back harder and suddenly everything is blissfully black.
Black and loud andGods, they are still beating me.
I can feel them still squeezing my chest, trying to suffocate me. My arms are free now, though. What a terrible decision. I fling my arm wildly, swinging blindly. Why can’t my eyes open?
As my fist connects with something hard and solid, several things become apparent immediately. First, I need to be sick and I need to be sick now. Second, I just punched something significantly hairier than the slick and smooth mermaid. Third, I am definitely no longer underwater.
Rolling quickly to the side, aided by warm, powerful hands, I fix the first problem. Vomiting creek water, stomach bile and my lunch onto the grass beside me, my stomach purges itself of all its contents until, panting and stomach cramping, there is nothing left. The same strong hands rub my back and stroke my hair, whispering soft gentle words that make no sense, but I need them just the same. A soft breeze accompanies the gentle hands, almost like the wind is stroking me over my brow and cheek. It is fucking weird.
Satisfied that I am done heaving up my insides, a loud groan escapes me and I wince. My throat is killing me. Gods, my whole body aches. It is also freezing; I feel cold down to my bones.Am I trembling?When did that start? I can’t seem to keep my hands steady and my body feels like my insides are shaking. I can feel the vibrating tenseness in my jaw. Goosebumps pucker my skin and I become acutely aware of every tooth as they chatter together as my bones shake.
“Tor babe, Tor? Can you hear me?” Tender hands rub at my arms, chasing away the chill and fear.
Caelan.
He saved me.
Slowly, I open my eyes, grimacing at the harsh reality of light and consciousness. Terrified green eyes flick over my face, taking in everything, filled with unshed tears, a purple bruise blooming on his left temple. Oops.
I try to give a reassuring smile, but it wavers on my face until eventually it cracks on a heaving sob. I don’t know who reaches for who, but I am quickly enveloped in Caelan’s arms as he pulls me into his lap.
My water-logged hiking layers are seeping through his clothes until we are both sodden, sobbing, shaking messes. Neither of us care or notice as I sit curled in his lap—not an easy feat considering I am the same size as him—my arms locked around his shoulders, rubbing my cheek on his ever-present plaid flannel shirt. His hands run over me in comforting, firm, soothing strokes while he whispers more nonsense against my hair.
I cannot believe I was almost drowned by a fucking mermaid. Amermaid.And fuck, those beasts are ugly.
Sirens are a common sight off the Northern coastlines, but I have never seen a mermaid before and I really hope I never do again. A shudder slides down my spine.
Gods, what if Theo had been caught by one of them? Or another beastly being? There are definitely enough of them out there.
Or Gods, what if he had never made it into the Woods at all? What if he is just dead in a ditch somewhere and I have dragged Caelan into the fucking Whisper Woods for no reason and we are just going to die here?
What on all the magic in the world possessed me to do this? I am no fucking adventurer. I am not the hero. I am just a bartender, glorified go-go dancer, and trust fund baby. Nothing has ever prepared me for this shit. This is reckless and stupid, and now I’m going to get myselfandCaelan killed. What was I thinking?
Another deep sob wracks my body, and Caelan presses my face harder against his chest. My arms slide down from his shoulders and wrap around his waist, digging into his flesh so hard I am probably going to leave bruises, but I need to anchor myself to something, to him, to his goodness. His warmth chases away some of the dark thoughts running themselves through my exhausted and terrified brain.
“Shhh, it’s okay love, you’re safe now.” Gods, he is rocking me like I’m a child. Which makes sense because I am currently covering his shirt in creek waterand snot. Gross. His fingers dance across the nape of my neck, massaging and stroking. It feels nice, but the chill of the water is almost painful, and I can feel my body shaking again. “Let’s get you dry and warm. I’ll get the tent set up and we’ll camp here for the night. How does that sound?” I nod against his chest, unable to get my body to work just yet.
“Thank you, Caelan. For saving me.” I whisper the words against his chest, unable to meet his eyes just yet. I feel him press a kiss against the crown of my head.
“Don’t thank me, Tor. For you, I would do anything."
Caelan
We are silent asI quickly throw together the tent and our sleeping bags while Tor manages to conjure a fire. The warmth seems to soothe something in him, and he quickly cajoles the embers into a roaring flame.
I help Tor take off his saturated clothes, his trembling fingers unable to take on the task himself. His usually vibrant purple skin has turned dull and is marked with scratches and bruises, including a scary-looking almost black bruise between his eyebrows. My hands touch him everywhere as I dry him, reassuring myself that he is still there, still with me. Because I can’t face the idea of my world without Tor in it. Not now that I have him.
