The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom, #1)(91)

“I couldn’t do it.” Lara closed her hands over his, needing to stop them from shaking. “And I won’t. Not ever. Not even if he tracks me down and kills me for betraying him.”

Aren went very still. “Did he threaten you?”

She swallowed hard. “He told me on the ship to Ithicana that if I failed or if I betrayed him, he’d hunt me down.”

“If he thinks—”

A scuffle of sound interrupted him, causing them both to jump. Seconds later, with a muttered oath, Ahnna pulled herself out of the hatch, her face a storm cloud.

Aren stepped in front of Lara, walking toward Ahnna even as his sister closed the distance with rapid strides.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Ahnna snapped. “Going into Maridrina yourself? Have you lost your bloody mind?”

“I’ve been dozens of times before. What of it?”

“Not as king you haven’t. You have a responsibility to our people. Plus, you nearly got caught. What the hell would’ve happened if you had?”

“Then you’d have your chance at the crown.”

“You think that’s what I want?” Her eyes went past her brother, landing on Lara. “And there stands the worst of it. Bad enough that you went, but you took the daughter of our enemy, the woman who, if all the rumors are true, you’ve been supplying with all of Ithicana’s secrets, back to her homeland?”

“I took my wife to her homeland for reasons that are none of your goddamned business.”

Ahnna’s face took on a ghastly pallor, but she balled her hands into fists, and for a heartbeat, Lara thought she’d strike her brother. Strike her king. But all she said was, “There is no reason good enough. She knows enough to allow Maridrina to bring us to our knees, and you practically delivered her to its king. She could’ve run straight into the Magpie’s arms.”

“She didn’t.”

“But what if she had? This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to—”

“I was supposed to what?” Aren lunged forward, looming over his sister. “Keep her locked up here forever? She’s my damned wife, not my prisoner.”

“Wife? In name only, from what I hear. And don’t think that everyone doesn’t realize that you’re risking your entire kingdom just to get between her legs.”

No one spoke. Not Aren or Ahnna. Not the soldiers who’d come topside and were now looking anywhere but at their leaders. And not Lara whose heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest. Because Ahnna’s fears were valid. Yet Aren was defending her. Despite knowing she’d come to Ithicana with ill intentions, he was defending her right to a life. Her right to a home. Her right to freedom. And she didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve him.

Before Lara could think through the consequences of what she intended to say, she stepped forward, her boots sliding on the slick surface of the bridge. “Ahnna—”

“Stay out of this.” Without looking, the other woman swung an arm to block Lara’s path.

The blow caught Lara in the chest and she stumbled back, feet scrabbling.

She was falling.

“Lara!” Aren reached for her, but it was too late.

She screamed, arms flailing as the air rushed past her, but there was nothing to grab. Nothing that would stop the inevitable.

She slammed against the water, the force driving the wind out of her in a rush of bubbles even as she plunged down and down.

Panic raced through her, wild and unchecked, and on its heels came the desperate need to breathe. She kicked, thrashing her arms, fighting toward the surface that seemed impossibly far away.

You will not die.

You will not die.

You will not . . . The thought faded and the light of the surface began to dim as she sank into the depths.

Until something grabbed her around the waist.

Lara struggled, reaching blindly for her knife until her face broke the surface and Aren was shouting in her ear, “Breathe, Lara!”

She sucked in a desperate mouthful of air. And another. A wave rolled over her head, and fear filled her anew.

Clawing and grasping, she tried to climb. Tried to get above the water.

Then Aren’s face was in front of hers. “Quit fighting me. I’ve got you, but you need to be still.”

It was an impossible request. She was drowning. She was dying.

“I need you to trust me!” His voice was desperate, and somehow it cut through her fear. Brought her back to herself. She quit fighting him.

“Good. Now hold on to me and don’t move.”

Grasping his shoulders, Lara forced her shaking legs to still. They were not quite beneath the bridge, perhaps two dozen yards from the nearest pier: the narrow one with no access to the bridge. And the shore . . .

“Can we make it?” she asked, spitting out a mouthful of water as another wave splashed her in the face.

“No.”

“What do we do?” She twisted, looking up at the bridge. She could hear the soldiers shouting, see Jor hanging off the side from a rope, his finger pointing at the water.

“Quit moving, Lara!”

She froze. Because in that moment, she saw what Jor was pointing at. What had Aren’s attention—and his fear.

Grey fins cut through the water.

Circling them.