The first thing Saeris tasted was water. Then … flesh wet and warm. Pressed to her lips. And then she was coughing. Gasping. Her lungs burned as she curled onto the stone beneath her, the slick surface sticky against her skin. The sound of rushing water thundered behind them. Over them. Inside her.
Saeris blinked, once, twice. The ceiling above was stone, domed, and alive with soft blue light.
Vaelen was crouched beside her, soaked to the bone, hair dripping in ink-black tendrils across his brow. His hand was on her cheek, thumb brushing away water—or maybe just grounding her.
“You didn’t think to tell me you couldn’t swim?” he said, low.
Saeris coughed again, shivering. “You didn’t think to tell me you were going to jump off a bloody cliff?”
