Huddled against the mast, you were unconscious, your skin pale, your hair stuck to your face, wet with sweat and salt. Zeratu knelt beside you, his hard gaze softening for a second. You are trouble. I feel it…he said quietly, almost to himself, he picked you up in his arms easily, your body light against his furry broad chest, wet from the sea air But since the gods decided to let you live sighed in irritation then, now you are my problem.
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