He's unmoored, he realizes. For a second he can feel the undertow pulling at his feet, tugging him toward them...

This isn't helping.

The dagger is sheathed, and Cole drops to his knees next to her, one hand covering hers over her hair.

"You won't. We both know it. That's what matters." It's as much to remind himself as to soothe her. His thumb runs over her knuckles. Bones and skin. Remember what's real.