Page 51 of In Violent Waves

She was miserable.

And it was as if the world could feel her pain.

It started raining then, pouring as if all the water in the world had been held aloft and then dropped.

It soaked her to the bone, reminding her of all that she had lost. She closed her eyes as tears and rain streaked down her face.

“Gods dammit,” Wilder grumbled.

That was at least a small silver lining. He was going to be as miserable as she was now.

Lyra let her anguish swallow her whole.

It rained all day and all night. Her hair was soaked through, and the thick auburn mass dripped down and splattered against her soaked pants.

It was unbelievably miserable, but still not even a fraction of what she felt writhing within her chest.

It had never been so wet or cold before. Wilder locked his muscles in place to keep from shivering. This was insufferable.

They needed to find some shelter, and quickly. A tremor vibrated Lyra’s body. As she turned to the side, he caught a glimpse of her blue lips. If he was cold in his nearly immortal body, he couldn’t fathom how she must be feeling.

“Otto,” Wilder called louder than the torrential rain.

“I’m on it.” Otto galloped past them in search of somewhere for them to wait out the storm.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen rain such as this. Raindrops the size of his fist. Lyra shivered again, and his chest cleaved in half. He let go of the reins, wrapped an arm around her, and pulled her against him.

“What are you doing?” She tried to pull away.

“Your lips are blue, and my orders are to bring you to the King alive.”

“That doesn’t explain why you are touching me.”

Wilder’s expression darkened as his brow lowered, and a smirk tugged his lip up. “You mean to tell me, in all those books, you read nothing about body heat?”

He could see the wheels turning in her brilliant mind. When her eyes widened, he knew she had figured it out.

“I would rather die at this point,” she ground out.

“Believe me, Legs, I would love to let you. But orders are orders.”

Thunder rumbled high overhead, cutting off her reply, and had her flinching into him.

“What was that?” she breathed, staring up into the sky. She had to squint against the rain pelting her face.

“That was thunder.”

“Thunder,” she tested the word out.

Wilder realized that Lyra had never heard thunder before. Deep below the surface, the sound never reached them.

“It’s the heat from lightning that causes it.”

Lyra nodded. “I’ve read about it.”

Of course, she had. She had read about storms and plants, but not about body heat, which could save her life as a human.

Obviously, there were gaps in her knowledge, and he wanted to see where those were.