Filed To Story: The Saltwater Curse Book PDF Free
Swallowing, I force my voice to hide my emotions. “Humans have two names, do they not? Yannig said the female sometimes takes one of the male’s names when they marry.”
She nods, lips curled like she’s tasting something bitter. “Yes, I took my husband’s last name. Before then, I had my dad’s.” My mate softens at the mention of her father.
Cindi has spoken of him once during dinner. She pointed at one of the items I took from the mainland and told me how her father taught her about the automobiles. Based on the way she hung her head and the water gathering on her tear line, I assumed her father passed.
She offers me a sad smile. “He would’ve loved seeing this island. If he had his way, he’d live by the sea, spending every day fishing or surfing. In my first year of college, he and his buddies built a raft I helped design and were betting on how long it would last out on the water.”
“Did he win?”
She snorts. “Dad put money on it staying afloat for two hours. It lasted four minutes and twenty-three seconds.”
I smile up at her, and her own widens. I run my hand up the length of her back, reveling in the feel of her soft skin. “What was his name?”
“He went by his last name: Saelim.”
My hand travels back up her spine to cup her jaw. “Then it shall be called Saelim Island, in memory of your father.”
Her lips part with a wobble. I hold myself back from grabbing one between my teeth and taking her worries away. She searches my face for a lie she won’t find. “Really?”
This time, when I grunt, she lights up.
“I like that.”
Her attention drops to my lips when my lips stretch into a smile. “Yes?”
She smiles back at me. “Yes.”
26
Cindi
Would Dad be absolutely chuffed about having an island named after him?
Shit yes.
He’d make it his opening line to every new person he met. He’d print out a map, circle the island, then make it his phone screen background and have it framed.
Would Dad be absolutely pissed about me being a willing captive on said island?
Eh.
My gut says no. My logic also says no.
Am I still thinking of plans on how to get the fuck out of here? Also, no. In the early days, the best thing I could come up with was holding a gun to Ordus’ head to force him to take me back—which I was doubtful would work.
Yes, I want to go back to the mainland. I miss it. I want a change of scenery for a bit.
But no, I don’t want to spend every waking moment scared the Gallaghers will find me.
And marry Ordus to save all krakens and probably slow down global warming in the process? I—I don’t know.
Where does that leave me?
Well, I at least know that leaves me cradled in the arms of a monster who’s killed for me, goes the extra mile for me every day, and has abs hard as rock that contract whenever I wriggle.
So I keep wriggling, keep squeezing my legs around his waist to feel his breath hitch, his hand tightening around my thigh.
And because I’m an awful human being, I play with his hair to watch his eyelids flutter and grow heavy.
I ignore the weight of the future to focus on the sound of his shuddering breaths in the small dome around our heads. I gnaw on my lip, barely paying attention to how the island looks underwater. We returned my surfboard to the shack and ate dinner before Ordus asked whether I wanted the full outdoor tour.
I jumped at the opportunity. I’m telling myself it’s out of pure curiosity, not because I want to spend more time with him, but I know the truth.
It’s addicting to see someone be so responsive to me in a way that doesn’t bring pain. Tommy had a hair-trigger reaction, but it’s nothing like Ordus. This man is like a puppet on my string, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
I’m enraptured by all of it.
If I really think about it, sure, there’s likely an element influenced by the alleged soulmate thing. But it’s still more than that, right? He doesn’t need to bring me chickens, build me a hammock and swing set, or learn how to cook human food.
I just can’t make sense of his distance, though. He went from singing his undying love for me every two seconds to grunting and the occasional sentence here and there. If he really, truly wanted me to marry him and end the Curse, why hasn’t he mentioned it? Not even once?
Why he isn’t trying harder for me to marry him so his people don’t starve to death? My gut tells me he genuinely is giving me the choice, simply happy to have someone else on the island…which doesn’t sit right with me. His people are suffering because of something I could supposedly prevent.
I don’t know what to make of it.
We dip suddenly, swerving to the left. I yelp and accidentally grab a fistful of his hair. His eyes widen in surprise, and a low chuckle sends a questionable thrill down my spine. He does it again, and I gasp, clutching him harder. We can’t be steady for more than eight seconds before he takes us for another dip, then twirls us through the water like a torpedo.
My stomach flips. It isn’t wholly unpleasant. For a moment, it’s like I’m fourteen again, with my friends, screaming with our arms up in the air, going this way and that on the roller coaster.
That same giddy feeling has me shrieking when Ordus dives straight down toward the sea floor before straightening out at the very last second. A smile splits across my face as he keeps doing it until unexpected laughter peels right out of me.
I only just catch his own smile for a second before he’s swirling us again. My fist is still in his hair, and I should feel bad and worry about my supplies—scold him for changing the subject.
It’s the same freeing sensation of being carried through a wave, never knowing if you’re going to crash or make it to the other side in one piece. It’s exhilarating and invigorating and saddening because I remember a time when laughing like this was a daily occurrence.
My stomach lurches unhappily, and I tap his back in silent command to cut it out before I throw up the crab I had for dinner. He straightens immediately without question, swimming along like nothing happened.
The temperature of the water drops as we descend closer to the ocean floor. The familiar cave entrance looms ahead.
I survey the water. It feels so wrong for there to be no other life around—not even any moss on the stone, only the plants higher up the cliffside that are untouched by water. Will the island be destroyed if the Curse isn’t ended?
I blurt out my question before I chicken out and keep fretting over it. “What happens if you don’t…” Mate? Bond? Shackle me to you? “Marry?”
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