The hand on Harlow's wrist was warm.
That was the first thing she noticed. Everything in this place was cold. The mist, the black sand, the air. But the hand holding her was warm, and strong, and it pulled her back from the edge of the river with one hard yank.
Harlow fell backwards onto the black sand.
She looked up.
Dark hair. Onyx eyes. A crooked, cocky smile that she would recognize anywhere, in any lifetime.
"You really have a thing for falling into rivers, don't you, princess?" said Julian.
Harlow stared at him with wide eyes.
He reached out and peeled the seal of water from her lips with his fingers, as easily as if it was a piece of paper. Then he did the same with the ropes on her wrists and ankles. The water fell on the black sand and disappeared.
"Julian..." Harlow whispered.
"Hey, Ro."
