Black Sea [English Edition]

CHAPTER 12

A week later, the raft was almost done. Choosing the right trees and cutting them with two simple daggers had been challenging, but finding thick, sturdy lianas that were moldable enough to connect the logs seemed nearly impossible. We discovered some suitable on one of the other islets, and I went back and forth for a whole day, dragging the lianas behind me while Amlach sanded the wood with a stone and his blade.

Now, I was just finishing to craft the second oar.

Amlach was near the shore, where we had built the square raft. He was setting up the lid on a basket he had cut out of a hollow log and secured to round beams. In it, we would put safe water and food from any storms we would encounter on the return journey.

He was shirtless.

Although he now knew the meaning of nudity for me, he had refused to work under the hot sun in his clothes. We fought like two stupid kids. At one point, exasperated, he took off his robe, rolled it up, and threw it at me.

"Maybe this way you'll finally stop convincing yourself that you don't like me," he snarled.

My eyes widened inindignation. "You are a human," I hissed. I threw his robe back at him so forcefully that he stumbled backward. I then marched past him toward the sea to swim and avoid dealing with him any longer.

"You know," he shouted at my back with arrogance. "I may be just a human, but by how you look at me, I'd say you find me much more interesting than your kind."

I jumped in the water without giving him a reply.

We hadn't discussed the matter again since that moment. I accepted his right to do what he wanted with his body, and he acknowledged that I nearly ignored him all day, only looking up from the sand when he got dressed again in the late afternoon.

But in truth, I didn't lift my eyes only then.

For days, I secretly watched him. Admiring. Memorizing.

Asking myself what it was about him that drew me like a magnet.

As was happening right now.

I could not take my eyes off his mighty back.

The sun was beating hard on his head, creating the illusion that the sweat drops were small diamonds adorning his skin, which was becoming increasingly golden. His back muscles contracted under his skin as he finished shaping the logs with a stone, ensuring no splinters would hurt us.

I wondered what his skin tasted like. What it would be like to grab onto his biceps, now so bulging as he worked. What I would feel to slide my hands over his strong, hairy arms. Or in his hair, now damp on his nape.

And before I realized it, I found myself desiring him.

I wanted to feel his breath, now slightly labored, in my ear. Suck it in my mouth. I wanted his tall and powerful body above mine, against mine, beneath mine. I wanted his skilled and sure hands all over me.

I wanted him.

All of him.

And I was aware of how wrong it was.

With his back still turned to me, Amlach sat back on his heels and gazed at the sea for what felt like endless moments. An aura of concern seemed to engulf him little by little, making my brows flicker into a frown.

I resisted the urge to go to him and find out what had upset him so suddenly, and I focused on the oar I was carving.

After a few seconds, Amlach got up and went to the mouth of fresh water to drink and cool himself. Then he came to sit beside me and get some rest in the shade.

I tried to hide how his strong smell overwhelmed my senses. I fought with all my strength not to get closer, to ignore my tingling fingers, eager to touch him.

I fought with all my might not to look at him.

"Nauriel."

I went still, heart in my throat. In three thousand years, I had heard my name spoken by countless voices with many different accents. But never had it sounded so . . . seductive.

On Amlach's lips, my name felt like an erotic caress, making me shiver deeply and crave to hear it again.

I wanted him to say it against my mouth.

Against my neck.

Against my breast.

Between my legs.

However, I could not help but notice a note of apprehension in his voice.

He tortured his fingers for a few more moments, then breathed out with decision from his nostrils and said, "Your brother is not searching for you."

Amlach was not stupid. He knew that if an elven ship were out in the Thalion Sea, it would have passed near the archipelago by now.

"No," I confirmed gloomily.

I felt his probing gaze upon me. "Why?"

I regarded the dagger I held, noting its elegant design and exceptional craftsmanship, which showcased the incomparable skill of my people's smiths.

"Because instead of running to him, instead of jumping off that tree and swimming back to my land, I stayed to help a human soldier who wanted to invade our home, kill our people, and force us to surrender our crystal to his king." My eyes shifted to the turquoise sea. "Because I chose you."

There was a time when my father would have never held a grudge against me for such a decision. He would have supported me, saying how much I reminded him of his beloved mother, always ready to lend a hand to anyone in need, whether they were elves, men, or witches.

But he had changed so much since Mornon defeated him, depriving him of his legendary magic spear.

Amlach remained silent, taking in the meaning of my words, which were heavy with anger. "You can go if you want to," he said at last. "I'll manage."

Yes, I did not doubt it. Yet, this last week, the thought of jumping into the water and swimming away never crossed my mind.

Amlach bent toward me and gently bumped my shoulder with his. "Go kick their ass," he whispered jokingly.

I didn't bother to hide a hint of a smile. "I will." I turned to him and stared at him intensely. "When we'll come back together."

Surprise flashed in his eyes.

He was bare-chested, very close, and I was looking at him.

I was looking at him and didn't want to stop.

Nevertheless, I forced myself to do so and handed him the oar I was working on. "Stay here in the shade and finish this. I'll go check if the raft needs any last adjustments."

Amlach did not reply as I got up and went to the shore. But I felt his eyes burning all over me for the rest of the day.