In an attempt to savage her fall, Brand reached out to catch her, pulling her to himself.
Instead of backwards, Madelyn fell forward, against him, sending them both tumbling to the floor. He landed hard on his back, while she fell against him.
Silence followed the crash.
Slowly, Madelyn pushed herself upright, her face flushed with embarrassment. The loose strands of her hair hung over her face. Her lips had lost a great amount of their colour.
"I am so sorry," she said breathlessly. "I did not—"
Brand could no longer hear her. Flashes danced before his eyes.
A dark sky. Burning timber. Wet sand beneath his back. The roar of a collapsing ship.
Blood. Pain. Loss.
He gasped harshly, shoving at the weight pressing against him. Had Balfour not had enough?
Blood. More blood. Salt burned in his lungs.
A shadow loomed above him, and he recognised it immediately.
Balfour Finlay.
The man towered over him, leering. Brand's chest seized.
