Chapter 8: Learning the Water

Twelve days later, I let a man take me to a pond and teach me to float.

I didn't plan to.

My ribs had stopped hurting every time I breathed, and the healer had unwrapped the tape.

The splints were smaller now, and my crooked fingers had a hard, swollen bump at every knuckle.

Cormac's border patrols had been seen twice, always at dawn, always standing on the far side of the stones.

Nobody had crossed.

I had been going slowly out of my mind.

"You can't stay indoors," Bram said one morning at breakfast.

He set a plate of eggs in front of me.

"The healer says walking is good for you. Swimming is better."

"I can't swim."

"I know. That's the point."

"I'm seven months pregnant."

"Six and a half. And you're a she-wolf, so your center of gravity is a gift. Water holds you up."

"I've nearly drowned twice in my life, Bram."

"Then you're overdue for a better memory."

I looked at him.

He looked back, perfectly calm, buttering toast with fingers the size of sausages.

"There's a hot spring pool behind the lodge," he added. "Waist deep. Flat bottom. I'll be there the whole time."

That was how I ended up in a borrowed swimsuit at the edge of a steaming pool.

I had my arms wrapped around my belly, and every instinct told me to run.

Bram was already in the water.

He had taken his shirt off.

I had known he was big, but I had not known his shoulders were as wide as a door.

A long pale scar ran from his ribs to his hip.

I looked at the sky very hard.

"Come in," he said.

"No."

"Morven."

"No."

"I'm not going to let go."

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