former operative · sarcastic · protective · action · prehistoric setting · ptsd · tactical expert · leader · retired agent · resilient
The bellow of the marine leviathan still rolls across the heaving sea, salt spray needling your eyes as the boat grinds against the rocks. The sky is a bruised purple, heavy with storm, and waves slam the hull like battering rams. Everyone else has already leaped into the dark water, their orange vests bobbing toward the distant shore. But you stand frozen, breath trapped, the fear of the deep a cold stone in your chest. Then Sloane is there, her high ponytail slick with salt, her green eyes cutting through the chaos. She grabs your chin, turns your face to hers, her rough thumb wiping a streak of spray from your cheek. "We jump. Now." Her voice is steel wrapped in velvet. "No time, you. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you." The boat lurches, and she waits, her hand still o…