Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(32)

Only then.

When she finally caught her breath, she rolled onto her stomach and lifted her arms above her head. One arm at a time, one kick at a time, counting under her breath each stroke that drew her closer to Hy-brasil.

She couldn’t stop for even a moment, or the pack would drag her under the water. Her stomach churned from too many dips beneath the waves. A belly full of salt made her more nauseous, but there wasn’t even bile left to vomit.

She’d seen no sharks, but the stories said she wouldn’t until it was too late.

Above her head, the raven circled. Its caw snapped her eyes open as she paused for a moment to breathe.

“Bran?” she whispered.

Again, the corvid’s cry jolted through her body.

“Right. I have to swim.”

The isle grew closer and closer, even as the sun began to set and the ocean turned red. She could make it if only she swam a little…bit…more.

Her feet touched land.

A sob lurched her body forward. She slipped underneath a wave, but it didn’t matter that she couldn’t see. All she could taste was salt but there were rocks beneath her feet. She didn’t have to swim anymore, and she didn’t have to lose her mother’s journals.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she pulled herself onto the jagged shore. “Thank you so much.”

She curled her fingers in the sand and mud. The grit digging into her nailbeds made even more tears stream down her cheeks. She had done it. She had made it to the phantom isle through storms, giant whale creatures, and merrow-men.

Sorcha had really done it.

She laughed through the tears and rolled onto her back. The stars twinkled in the night sky. They were so beautiful. The land was so beautiful.

It no longer mattered that there was a mysterious castle looming overhead. It didn’t matter that ghosts likely traversed with silent feet all around her. She wasn’t swimming anymore, and the ground didn’t move here.

Letting out a ragged breath, her eyes drifted shut. Just for a moment, she told herself. She could rest for a moment before she had to get back up and find the Fae the MacNara twins wanted.

Stars danced beneath her eyelids as she settled into the sand.





Chapter Five





THE BEAST





Cold air brushed her skin. Sorcha rolled to her side, murmuring in her sleep. Gritty sand touched her face and sucked into her lungs as she snored.

She bolted upwards, scratching her nose with frantic hands. She coughed out sand and brushed dried salt off her cheeks. Her skin burned, raw and dry. Her lips cracked as she inhaled, blood leaking into her mouth and stinging her swollen tongue with the taste of iron.

Where was she? Her gaze danced over worn stones and bits of driftwood.

“Right,” she whispered. “The boat, the storm, the swim.”

Sorcha tucked her knees to her chest and hugged them close. There would be no more tears. She couldn’t afford to lose her sanity; there was too much left to do.

Her mind settled, and she glanced around. What had awoken her?

Something snorted to her left. The muscles of her back seized, and she slowly turned her head.

A smooth, whiskered face blew air at her again. The seal’s eyes were large and dark, surprisingly friendly. The warm air smelled of fish and rotten seaweed mixed with the musky scent of her newfound friend.

At her movement, the seal slapped a flipper against its belly and chortled.

“Oh,” she said in surprise. “Hello.”

It leaned in close and snorted at her again. When she flinched back, it let out another coughing laugh and rolled onto its back. Each smack against its side caused blubber to wiggle.

“Aren’t you a funny little thing?” Sorcha wasn’t certain it was so “little.” The seal was already larger than her, and she was certain it wasn't full grown. Its long whiskers tilted up at her words.

It snorted at her one more time then turned to leave. Its body vibrated as it lurched across the land, slipping into the water with more grace than it exhibited on land.

A thought sparked. “Are you a selkie?”

The only response was a quiet chuckle as the seal sank beneath the water.

Her muscles screamed in protest as she rose to her feet. The long muscles of her thighs seized and her toes pointed as the arch of her foot clenched.

Sorcha whimpered. The pain was excruciating, but she couldn’t stay on the sand. Stinging sunburns already covered her cheeks and arms. If she stayed out any longer, she would blister.

Water. She needed water. Her lips cracked as she opened them and wheezed out a breath.

She continued making soft sounds of discomfort as she pushed herself upright. She waved her arms for balance and settled. Coughing, Sorcha nodded her head.

“Step one, standing. Accomplished.”

Her feet seemed so far away. She furrowed her brows and looked at her toes. When had she lost her left shoe?

Right about the moment a merrow-man had pointed his trident at her with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. She groaned and held a hand to her head. The headache pounding behind her eyes nearly sent her to her knees.

“Who is that?” a feminine voice asked.

“I don’t know. She must have washed up from a shipwreck.”

“That never happens.”

“How am I supposed to know then? Banishment is the only way to get here, but faeries can't banish humans!”