The cold was a shock.

One moment you were clinging to the edge of the broken boat, the next, the sea swallowed you whole. The weight of your dress turned heavy instantly, dragging you down like a chain. Your arms flailed against the current, but the layers of soaked fabric tangled around your legs, pulling tighter with every movement.

You tried to kick. Tried to swim. But the ocean didn’t care.

Panic bloomed in your chest as the surface grew farther away, the light dimming above. Your lungs screamed. The fabric clung like it was trying to keep you.

Then—hands.

Strong, sure hands grabbed your waist and pulled. A blur of movement. Julian. His face flashed in front of yours, his eyes open and sharp even beneath the water. He looked angry. Focused. Determined.

His fingers fumbled briefly at your back before he pulled something from his belt—a knife.

You froze, instinctively trying to pull away, but he caught your gaze and shook his head once, firm and calm.

Then he moved.

In sharp, clean strokes, the blade sliced through the dress at your sides. The tension in the fabric released instantly, the weight loosening like it had taken a breath. Julian’s arm slid around you, tugging the ruined fabric free as it billowed into the water like seaweed.

Now only your underdress clung to your skin, lighter, easier to move in, and his grip tightened around you.

He kicked hard, hauling you both upward through the cold, salt-heavy water.

Your head broke the surface with a gasp that felt like a second chance. You coughed, spluttering, vision swimming. Julian held you tightly to his chest, one arm around your back, the other keeping you both afloat.

“I’ve got you,” he said, voice hoarse against your ear. “You’re okay.”

Your fingers curled into his shirt as the ocean rocked around you, his warmth the only thing grounding you.