Chapter Seven
Winter was at the wheel. They were approaching Malana in the early afternoon, a clear, beautiful day, although a little hot, the water so clear you could see straight to the bottom. Soule was looking over the side, her red hair flashing in the sunlight like a beacon, humming a song almost under her breath that was curling all through him.
Winter was staring at her, his hands on the wheel, unaware of his surroundings. She was changing in front of his eyes, in his mind, and he was looking at a siren—not the frightening creatures he’d grown up hearing about, but Soule, seeing her as she was. She was beautiful.
He felt Isidor push his shoulder with his own, not realizing Isidor had come up beside him, turning his head to see his brother walk away. Isidor sent him a glance, gri
