Page 63 of The Barbarian King's Assassin (Magic and Kings 1)

In a sense,I watched myself fall. I saw my plunge in the horrified faces that peered over the edge of the cliff.

Konstantin shouted my name, as if that would help. I plummeted, the air whistling past my ears. My death was not one I’d imagined. As an assassin, I’d assumed I’d end up drugged with a knife in the ribs.

Instead, I hit the river like a rock tossed in a raging pond. I went under, the water shockingly cold, deeper than expected and violent, too. The current pulled and tossed me, keeping me submerged. My lungs strained, begging me to find air.

I gripped my sword still, and it dragged me down. I released it that I might flail and seek the surface. My head broke free from the water, and I sucked in a breath. I bobbed like a cork and managed a second lungful before slamming into a rock.

I didn’t know much after that other than I should have died many times over. My bruised body could attest to my tribulations. My lungs and chest ached from the times I’d held my breath, not wanting to drown. My arms and legs were numb.

By the time I washed against the trunk of a fallen tree, I’d become a waterlogged mess who barely knew to hang on. But I did. I clung to that tree until I’d managed a few calming breaths. I then inched my way over until the water receded enough I could plant my feet and stand.

I almost fell over.

Using the trunk to steady myself, I walked out of the shallow edges onto the stony beach. Exhausted. Trembling. Cold. So cold.

I hit the ground on my knees. Didn’t feel it. I swayed. My eyes refused to stay open. I couldn’t pass out.

Danger.

I’d lost my sword. I had to protect myself. My fingers couldn’t find the strength to see if I’d kept any knives. I needed—

Didn’t matter what I wanted, as I fell forward. I lost consciousness before hitting the ground.

I woke to warmth, my entire body cradled against something solid and hot. My lashes fluttered, and from the cocoon of fur tucked around me, I was mesmerized by the bright dance of flames.

Fire. It partly explained why I felt so cozy. But the biggest reason I felt warm shifted and rumbled, “You’re awake.”

Konstantin was here. He’d come after me.

“Don’t tell me you fell off the cliff, too.” My voice emerged in a croak.

“Not all of us are so clumsy. How do you feel?”

“Like I fell off a cliff.”

He chuckled. “A good thing you chose one of the spots where the water was deep enough to handle your plunge.”

I shuddered to think what could have happened. “How long have I been unconscious?” Hours at the very least, as night had fallen.

“A while. Apparently, you needed a good nap.”

“You make a good pillow, I guess.” I stretched in his grip, squirming against him until I got the reaction I wanted.

He growled. “Stop moving.”

“I’m just trying to get comfortable. There’s something hard digging into me. If I could just get the right spot.” I wiggled some more, and his eyes closed as his head went back. By the time I’d finished moving, I straddled him.

His gaze on me smoldered. “Comfortable?”

“Very. What about you?”

“Feeling overdressed.” A naughty grin followed his claim.

“And I’m underdressed.” I wore a dry shirt and his cloak. No pants, which meant not much between the pulsing spot between my legs and the hardness he couldn’t hide.

“Your clothes were soaked.”

“You don’t say,” was my dry reply. “Which reminds me, tell me again why you’re really here.”