“What?” I asked, my heart racing.
“Our ships have breech-loading rifles,” Oliver said in a low voice. “Those are the ones firing at us.”
The ship swayed and rocked from the onslaught of gunfire, and I stumbled into Oliver’s arms. His fingers gripped my arms, keeping me in place.
More explosions shook the ship. My ears throbbed from the thunderous noise. A loud clang next to us made me jump as something huge and metal fell over from the impact.
“We’ve got to get out of here before this ship sinks,” I said through gritted teeth, standing as desperation pulsed through me. I flexed my fingers and tried Pushing against the chains, but it was no use. My magic wouldn’t work.
“It’s bewitched iron,” Oliver said in a hollow voice. “It’s immune to magic.”
I stumbled backward, my stomach roiling, and felt for the wall behind me to keep me steady. My eyes closed with grief and disappointment from my utter failure. “I was so close,” I whispered.
“You were incredible, Desi,” Oliver said softly. “But there’s only two of us. And he’s—well, he’s Third Tier.”
I nodded. Tears stung my eyes, and I let them fall, knowing Oliver probably couldn’t see them. “I knew it was a long shot,” I said. “I knew death was a very real possibility. I’m just sorry I dragged you into this. You don’t deserve this.”
“Desi, I volunteered. I practically forced you to include me.”
“Yes, but you have a life here!” I said, my pitch rising and sounding more like a squeak from my broken voice. “You have something to live for! You have a home and friends and family. I have nothing. Not in this time period. So if my plan failed, I didn’t really lose anything. But you?” I shook my head as more tears poured down my face. “You have everything to lose, and I just took it away from you.”
Oliver was silent. The chains clinked again as his arm slid closer to me. His hand wrapped around mine until our fingers linked, pressing firmly against each other. He squeezed my fingers, and that small motion sent strength and comfort through my body. Heat blossomed in my chest, but it only made the agony of my failure worsen.
“Desi, you don’t have nothing,” Oliver said. “I think, if you’d allow yourself to consider it, you could’ve made a home here. We care about you.”
I snorted. “We?”
Oliver hesitated. “I care about you. A lot. More than I’ve ever cared for any woman before.”
My heart stopped. I wanted him to shut up but continue at the same time. My heart screamed for more, but my brain screamed for silence. Frantic heartbeats burst in my chest.
“I feel lucky that I get to spend my last moments with you.” He gently brushed his knuckles against my cheek, his skin soft and soothing.
I stared at him. I couldn’t make out even the color of his eyes, but I felt them boring into mine. I felt the heat from his gaze, from his body.
“Me too,” I said quietly. “There’s no one like you back home, Oliver. No one. And as much as I hate to admit it, a small part of me didn’t want to return . . . because I’d be without you.”
Tension swirled in the small space between us. His breath tickled my skin. My body ached for him, yearned for him. The usual protests raging in my head were silenced by the thought of my imminent death.
If I can’t live in this moment—in the last moments of my life—then when can I?
I leaned into him, and his lips opened, capturing mine. Something within me splintered and burst away like a dam being smashed among heavy waves. I felt my armor fade and then vanish, and my chest caved inward on itself, exposing the raw and vulnerable parts still festering from my losses.
But I didn’t care.
This moment filled that hole.
Oliver’s hot breath mingled with mine. Though the chains pulled at our wrists, our hands still reached for each other, drawing us closer and deepening our kiss. His long fingers pressed into my waist. My hands pulled at his short hair. His lips moved faster, more urgently. Shivers of pleasure rippled through me as my tongue met his.
The pain in my throat ached and intensified, but it only ignited my desire, strengthening the fire raging within me.
I raised myself up on my knees, and Oliver gripped my waist with both hands. His hands slid lower and lower, and my insides flipped, my heart thumping a mile a minute. My hands slid under his shirt and explored his muscles, tracing the contours of his shoulders and back.
A small moan escaped his lips. I trailed kisses along his cheek and jawline and neck. His heavy breaths fueled my fire as it consumed my chest and mind, obscuring all coherent thought.
Nothing mattered but this. Me and Oliver, this heat between us finally fusing together like molten steel.
Oliver broke the kiss for a moment, but his lips still brushed along mine so gently it tickled. Our labored breaths were so in sync I couldn’t tell them apart.
His hands snaked up my back until they reached my curls, and then he ran his fingers through them. His voice low and husky, he said, “Desiree, I—”
The pounding of nearby footsteps jolted us apart, though we kept our arms around each other. I might have been embarrassed to be caught making out with Oliver, but not embracing him. His arms felt warm and secure around me, making me feel braver than I was.
My breaths still heavy and frantic, I watched several figures in black cloaks materialize through the rippling wall across from us.
A tall flame lit up the small room. I squinted as my eyes adjusted, and I gazed around what appeared to be some kind of storage room. Machinery, large barrels, and stacks of boxes surrounded us, some of them overturned from the attack.
My eyes turned to the flame in front of us. It was attached to someone’s raised hand—El Diablo. His hood covered his
