Through the Ever Night (Under the Never Sky #2)(68)

She shook her head. “It’s not why I came here. We could be good together,” she said. Then her hands were on him. Fast, cold hands running over his chest. Skimming his stomach. She moved closer, pressing her body to his, and leaned up to kiss him.

“Kirra.”

“Don’t talk, Perry.”

He took her wrists and drew her hands away. “No.”

She settled onto her heels and stared at his chest. They stayed that way, not moving. Not speaking. Her temper lit like fire, crimson, searing. Then he scented her resolve, her control, as it cooled and cooled, icing over.

Perry heard a bark along the beach trail. He’d forgotten about Flea. He’d forgotten about the storm roiling above them. He’d forgotten, for a second, how it felt to be left behind.

Strangely, he felt calm now. It didn’t matter if Aria was hundreds of miles away, or whether she’d hurt him, or said good-bye, or anything else. Nothing would change the way he felt. Not ignoring his thoughts of her, or being with Kirra. The moment Aria had taken his hand on the roof at Marron’s, she’d changed everything. No matter what happened, she’d always be the one.

“I’m sorry, Kirra,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

Kirra lifted her shoulders. “I’ll survive.” She turned to go, but stopped herself. She looked back, smiling. “But you should know that I always get what I’m after.”





34



ARIA


Aria had flown before, in the Realms. It was a glorious thing, soaring with no weight and no care. Flying felt like becoming the wind. This was nothing like that. It was an ugly, grasping, panicking thing. As the Snake River blurred closer, her only thought—her every thought—was hold on to Roar.

The water slammed into her, hard as stone, and then everything happened at once. Every bone in her body jarred. Roar tore out of her grip, and darkness swallowed her, driving every thought from her mind. She didn’t know if she was still there—still alive—until she saw the wavering light of the Aether calling her to the surface.

Her limbs unlocked, and she kicked, pushing through the water. Cold pierced into her muscles and her eyes. She was too heavy, too slow. Her clothes filled, dragging her down, and she felt the strap of her satchel looped around her waist. Aria grasped it and swam, every stroke thick, like cutting through mud. She broke the surface and sucked in a breath.

“Roar!” she screeched, scanning the water. The river looked calm on the surface, but the current was brutally strong.

Filling her lungs, she went under, searching desperately for him. She couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her, but she spotted him floating close by, his back to her.

He wasn’t swimming.

Panic exploded inside of her. She’d thrown him over the balcony.

If she’d killed him—

If he was gone—

She reached him, grasped under his arms, and towed him up. They surfaced, but now she had to kick harder. His weight was immense, and he was limp in her arms, a dead weight pulling her down.

“Roar!” she gasped, struggling to keep him above water. The cold was beyond anything she’d ever experienced, stabbing like a thousand needles into her muscles. “Roar, help me!” She swallowed water, and started coughing. They were still sinking. Still falling together.

She couldn’t talk. Aria reached up, fumbling, finding the bare skin at his neck. Roar, please. I can’t do this without you!

He jolted like he’d woken from a nightmare, wrenching out of her arms.

Aria surfaced and retched river water, fighting to catch a breath.

Roar swam away from her. She had to be losing her mind. He’d never leave her. Then she saw a dark shape floating toward them on the current. For an irrational second, she thought Sable had come after them, until her eyes focused and she saw the fallen log. Roar latched onto it.

“Aria!” He reached for her and pulled her in.

Aria grabbed hold, broken branches jabbing into her numbed hands. She couldn’t stop shaking, shaking from her core. They passed beneath the bridge and raced past homes along shore, everything dark and still in the dead of night.

“Too cold,” she said. “We have to get out.” Her jaw was trembling so much her words were unrecognizable.

They kicked toward shore together, but she didn’t know how they made it. She could barely feel her legs anymore. When their feet thudded against the gravelly riverbed, they released the driftwood. Roar’s arm came around her, and they waded on, clinging to each other, reality returning with every step.

Liv.

Liv.

Liv.

She hadn’t looked at Roar’s face yet. She was afraid of what she’d see.

As they trudged out of the river and onto land, she suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. Somehow, she and Roar hobbled up the shore, carrying each other, stumbling arm in arm. They passed between two houses and crossed a field, plunging into the woods beyond.

Aria didn’t know where they were heading. She couldn’t keep a straight line. She was beyond thinking, and her steps were weaving.

“Walking can’t cold anymore.” It was her voice but slurred, and she didn’t think she’d made sense. Then she was on her side in the tall grass. She couldn’t remember falling over. She drew into a ball, trying to stop the pain that stabbed into her muscles, her heart.