Chapter 73-Holding on

Chapter 73: 73-Holding on

Aymara woke with a violent start. Her eyes flew open, and for several seconds she lay rigid beneath the blankets, unable to draw a full breath past the terror crushing her chest.

Her heart battered her ribs as the nightmare clung to her with merciless clarity: the explosion’s blinding flash, the ocean’s black, churning depths, and Dylan’s cold expression along with Sarah’s cruel laughter, and Nathaniel vanishing into the chaos.

The memory ripped through her again, vivid as a fresh wound, and Aymara pressed a trembling hand to her chest as if she could physically hold her heart together.

Nathaniel, seeing him die again had left her restless even it was just in the dream. "No... Nothing can happen to you. Not again."

She shoved the blankets away and sat upright so quickly the room lurched around her.

Aymara was well aware of the fact that Nathaniel was alive, he was on the ship. She knew that. She had seen him before she went to sleep. She had left him safely inside the ship. Nothing had happened to him.

But the terrified part of her mind didn’t care about logic. It showed her only the image of losing him, over and over, until panic flooded her veins like ice cold water.

She needed to see him. Now. She needed proof that he was still alive and unharmed by Dylan’s schemes. She needed his voice, his warmth and his heartbeat beneath her hands.

"I have to check for myself."

Aymara threw her legs over the side of the bed and hurried out of her room. She didn’t bother fixing her hair. She didn’t care that she was barefoot or that the floor was cold beneath her feet.

She didn’t even stop to check the time. She simply ran, one hand pressed against her ribs as though that could quiet the frantic pounding inside her.

Her movements were fast, almost frantic and yet everything around her seemed to move in slow motion. Her bare feet struck the floor in rapid succession, but in her panic, each step felt strangely stretched out as though the hallway had suddenly become twice as long.

Aymara’s loose hair streamed wildly behind her, strands flying across her tear-streaked face and sticking to her damp temples.

Her breathing came in short, uneven bursts, and her chest rose and fell beneath the rumpled fabric of her sleepwear.

She didn’t care how she looked. She didn’t care that her hair was a mess, that her clothes were wrinkled, or that she was running barefoot through the cold hallway. All that mattered was reaching him.

She looked nothing like the composed woman who had stood fearlessly against an armed submarine only hours earlier.

Her usual elegance had completely fallen away, replaced by raw urgency. Her eyes were wide and glassy with lingering tears, her cheeks pale, and her lips trembling as she repeatedly swallowed against the lump in her throat. ’He has to be fine. He must be.’

She looked almost like someone running from death itself except she wasn’t running away from anything. She was running toward the one person she needed to know was still alive.

Every hurried step carried the same desperate thought through her mind, ’Nathaniel. Please be there. Please be okay.’

Nathaniel’s name struck through her mind again and again, each repetition tightening the fear in her chest.

What if the dream had been a warning? What if she reached his room and found him gone? What if she had already lost him and her mind simply refused to accept it?

She reached Nathaniel’s door and shoved it open without knocking. "Nathaniel!"

Nathaniel, who had just finished taking his medicine and was about to set his glass of water down, turned toward her in surprise. "Mara?"

He had barely finished saying her name when Aymara rushed toward him. She practically threw herself into his arms.

Her arms locked tightly around his neck, and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Nathaniel’s eyes widened. "Mara..."

The force of her impact drove him back a step. His knees nearly buckled beneath them, and for one startled second, he struggled to keep them both upright.

His hands tightened around her as he fought to regain his balance, one arm slipping beneath her back while the other caught firmly beneath her legs.

A sharp breath escaped him, but he held it for a moment, focusing on keeping his footing rather than letting the sudden strain show.

"Aymara... wait..."

She clung to him without hearing, her weight pulling him off-center. Nathaniel planted his feet, shifted his stance, and braced himself against the floor until the room stopped tilting beneath him.

His breathing came faster, each breath controlled and deliberate as he steadied his balance beneath her weight. Once he had steadied them, he adjusted his hold, drawing her securely against his chest and making sure neither of them could fall.

The glass of water he had been holding slipped from his fingers.

Crash!

It shattered against the floor, scattering bright shards across the boards. Nathaniel barely noticed it and Aymara didn’t react at all.

She had buried her face against his neck, clinging to him with desperate strength. Her entire body trembled as though she were still trapped inside the nightmare.

Aymara breathed in. His scent that felt ever so warm, familiar and real clung to her nostrils.

A sob tore from her throat. Nathaniel froze. "Mara?"

He had never heard her cry like this. She looked nothing like the playful Aymara who teased him or the confident woman who had faced armed men without flinching and certainly not the ruthless woman who had stood on the deck while a submarine attacked her ship.

This was different. This was Aymara unraveling completely in his arms. Her fingers dug into the back of his neck.

She pressed herself closer, almost painfully as though she were afraid that if she loosened her grip even slightly, he would vanish. Her breath came in broken, desperate gasps against his skin.

Nathaniel’s expression softened immediately. The fear in her grip was too raw to mistake for ordinary distress. She wasn’t merely seeking comfort; she was checking that he was still there. That he was solid.

He shifted his hold on her, making sure she was secure before gently rubbing her back. "It’s okay." His palm moved slowly up and down her spine. "I’m here."