Rihana's lips curved against his neck.
Not a smile exactly. Something older than a smile — the expression of a woman who has been named correctly and feels the accuracy of it in her bones. Her arms tightened around his torso from behind, her full breasts pressing warmer into his back, and she breathed out a single soft sound that wasn't quite a word and didn't need to be.
"Yeah," she murmured. "You're right."
Her voice was still wrecked. Still that hoarse, honey-dark ruin of a voice. And even in that single syllable, the Siren blood did what it always did — wrapped around the word like warm fingers and made it land somewhere behind the sternum rather than in the ear.
Both Gwen and Lira felt it in their chests.
Neither of them acknowledged it.
They were both staring at the water.
