Chapter 127
Layla's POV
"Swimming," Thor said, stepping out of his jeans to reveal black boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination. "Just swimming."
Ruby fanned herself dramatically. "Is it hot out here, or is it just Thor being a complete menace?"
My mouth went desert-dry. "Isn't it—isn't the water too cold?"
He paused in pulling down his zipper, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Only one way to find out."
He walked to the water's edge with confident, predatory grace, and I couldn't look away from the play of muscles in his back, the way his boxer briefs hugged his ass. When he dove under, I realized I'd been holding my breath.
He surfaced with a sharp curse. "Fuck! Okay, it's a shock!"
"Then get out, you absolute lunatic!" I called back, but I was laughing despite myself.
"No way," he called back, shaking water from his dark hair like some kind of mythical sea god. "I have a reputation to maintain. Can't look weak in front of my future Luna."
There it was again. Future Luna. The casual assumption that made my chest tight with panic and something else I didn't want to examine.
"Your ego is going to freeze off before anything else," I shouted back.
"My ego isn't the part I'm worried about!" he replied, grinning.
Hunter nearly choked on his drink. "Did he just—"
"Yep," Ruby confirmed, looking delighted. "He went there."
Something reckless and competitive surged through me. Maybe it was the way he kept calling me his future Luna like it was inevitable. Maybe it was the smug way he was showing off. Maybe it was just that I was tired of being the cautious one, the one who always held back.
"I'm going in too," I announced, standing up.
"Layla, no," Ruby grabbed my wrist, her expression suddenly serious. "You hate cold water. And what about your swimming thing? You nearly drowned before."
Thor's head snapped up at Ruby's words, his playful expression immediately shifting to concern. "The water's really cold, Layla. You don't need to prove anything."
"I'm not trying to prove anything," I lied, already pulling off my sweater. The cool air hit my skin, and I saw Thor's eyes widen as I stood there in just my tank top and jeans. The thin fabric left little to the imagination, and I felt a surge of feminine power at his obvious reaction.
"I'll be fine," I said, trying to project more confidence than I felt. "Thor will catch me if anything happens, right?"
His expression softened into something almost reverent. "Always, goddess. I'd never let you happen to you. But you don't have to—"
"Stop being so protective," I interrupted. "I'm not made of glass."
"No," he said quietly, his voice carrying across the water with surprising intensity. "You're made of something much more precious than that."
"So dramatic," Ruby stage-whispered, but she was grinning.
I walked to the water's edge and dipped my toe in, bracing for the painful shock of cold. Instead, warmth spread through my skin like liquid silk, soothing and healing.
"You absolute bastard!" I gasped, wading deeper. "It's not cold at all!"
Thor's laugh was rich with satisfaction. "Did I say it was cold? I think I said 'fuck, it's a shock!'—which is what anyone would say when hitting water this temperature suddenly. But you're wading in slowly, letting your body adjust."
"Semantics," I accused, but I was grinning now.
"Strategy," he corrected. "Now look around properly. Does this place seem familiar?"
I took in the surroundings—the distinctive rock formations, the way the mountains cupped the lake like protective hands, the unusual clarity of the water. Recognition hit me like a wave.
"The healing spring," I breathed. "This is where you brought me that night."
"After you nearly got yourself killed," he said, swimming closer with long, powerful strokes. "I thought you could use some healing again. Physical and otherwise."
The warm water lapped at my waist, and I could already feel it working—the constant ache in my shoulders was melting away, the tension I'd been carrying for weeks finally loosening. But as Thor approached, cutting through the water like some kind of supernatural predator, all thoughts of healing fled my mind.
Water clung to every inch of his exposed skin, highlighting every carved muscle, every perfect line of his powerful frame. His dark hair was slicked back, emphasizing the sharp angles of his face, and his eyes held an intensity that made my pulse race.
"This isn't fair," I said, backing up a step as he got closer. "You look like some kind of water god, and I probably look like a drowned rat."
"You look like a goddess," he said simply, and the sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten. "My goddess."
The possessive note in his voice sent heat spiraling through my core. To break the building tension, I splashed water at him, hitting him square in the face.
"That's for the deception," I announced.
He wiped water from his eyes, then his expression turned predatory. "Big mistake, little wolf."
He lunged through the water, and I shrieked, trying to escape. But he caught me easily, his strong arms encircling my waist, pulling me against his chest. The contact sent shockwaves through my system—his skin was hot despite the water, and I could feel every hard plane of his torso pressed against me.
"I'm sorry," I said softly, suddenly aware of how we must look, how intimate this was. "For earlier, in the car. I shouldn't have—"
"You were being honest," he said, his voice rough. His hands tightened on my waist, thumbs tracing small circles that made me shiver. "I respect honesty."
"You're too patient with me," I whispered.
"You deserve patience," he murmured, brushing wet strands of hair from my face. His touch lingered on my cheek, thumb tracing my lower lip. "You deserve everything."
The air between us crackled with electricity. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and I felt my lips part involuntarily.
"Thor," I breathed, but it came out like a plea rather than a protest.
"I know," he said roughly, but he leaned closer anyway, until his forehead rested against mine. "I'm trying to be good here, Layla."
"What if I don't want you to be good?" The words escaped before I could stop them.
His grip on me tightened, and I felt something hard press against my hip. "Don't say things like that," he warned, his voice strained. "Not unless you mean them."
My breath caught at the raw emotion in his voice. The way he looked at me—like I was something precious and powerful and dangerous all at once—made me feel like I was drowning in the best possible way.
"What if I do mean them?" I asked, surprising myself with my boldness.