Blood on the Tide (Crimson Sails #2) Read Online Katee Robert

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Crimson Sails Series by Katee Robert
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
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I open my mouth to tell Lizzie to dial back her rage. She’s terrifying the poor person, and ze hasn’t done anything wrong. But the room is swirling strangely in my vision. “I think I’m going to pass out now.”

The last thing I see before darkness takes me are Lizzie’s and Rin’s panicked expressions as they both rush to the bed. Lizzie is, in fact, still naked.

* * *

• • •

I don’t know how long I sleep. But when I wake, my mouth feels like it’s grown fuzz and my head pounds as if someone’s taken a knife and pried my skull open. I try to shift, but my body chooses that moment to scream in protest. I try to speak, but all I’m capable of is a faint groan.

Gentle hands catch me behind the head and lift me just enough as they press a cup to my lips. “Drink.” Lizzie sounds as exhausted as I feel. That’s not a good sign.

But the water is cool and perfect on my tongue, and so I sip it eagerly. Far too soon, she takes it away. When I make a sound of protest, she says, “Go slow.”

I finally manage to peel my lids open and immediately wish I hadn’t. The low light of the cabin pierces my eyes. “I feel like death.”

“Death didn’t take you this time.”

I manage to twist my head enough to see Lizzie hunched over on a stool next to the bed. She looks like shit. Her hair hangs in tangles, obviously never combed after our bath, and her skin has gone waxy in a way that suggests it’s been some time since she ate. Which means it’s been some time since I was awake. “How long?”

“Two. Days.” She lifts the cup to my lips again, and I carefully sip a little bit more water. “We are never doing that again.”

It says something about my state of mind that I immediately want to argue with her. Yes, things got out of control, but that doesn’t mean that they will every time. We spent an entire day and night together the first time we had sex, and I only woke with a faint headache in the morning. That little pain was far outweighed by the heavy memory of pleasure that still throbbed through my body.

Without thinking, I grab her wrist, panic bleating at the back of my throat. “What do you mean we’re never doing that again?”

“You saved my life, comforted me when I was falling apart, and the only thanks I gave you was almost killing you.”

I drag in a breath to argue, but force myself to slow down and study her. This woman looks nothing like the Lizzie I’ve come to know in our short time together. There’s no hint of her icy exterior, no suggestion of her perfect poise. She looks almost fragile. Brittle. As if one strong word might shatter her.

It scares the shit out of me. “Lizzie, I’m okay.”

Her mouth curves, but not like anything is funny. “It’s so purely you that you would try to comfort me when you just woke up from a coma. I have been dribbling water and broth down your throat for two days, Maeve. You don’t get to tell me that you’re okay. We make port in Drash in a few days. The first thing we’re doing when we reach the island is take you to a proper medic. A healer.”

I don’t have much experience with healers beyond those that live in Viedna. Their specialty is specifically my people. Ours is a particular flavor of magic that takes a careful hand to coax. The rules for normal shifters don’t quite apply, so we don’t tend to go to others for help when there’s an injury or sickness.

But all it takes is one look at Lizzie’s face to know that any argument will be met with a brick wall. She wants me to see a healer, and so she will drag me there even if I’m kicking and screaming in protest. The very thought of fighting exhausts me, which is enough to make me worry that she’s right. That maybe we shouldn’t do this again.

No. I refuse to accept that. We only have a short time together, and I’m not about to waste it just because we lost control once. I was an active participant. I could have pushed her away and she would’ve gone. Instead, I held her closer and drove her pleasure higher, knowing that it fractured her control in the process.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say.

She snarls at me. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. There’s only one person to blame, and it’s not you.”

We can circle this conversation over and over again, but we’re not going to get anywhere in our current positions. Better to get out of this cabin for a little while. To gain some perspective. To remind ourselves why we’re here in the first place. I’ve reclaimed my skin, but Lizzie is still without her family heirlooms.


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