“Keep your elbows soft, not stiff,” Zander said as they lunged again. “Locked elbows means the sword can be yanked from your grip, like this.”

Zander turned around and struck out, the move abrupt. Rae brought her sword up in a clumsy parry, though not an incompetent one. Zander’s sword met hers. Rae twisted to take the blow, but as Zander had said, her arms were too stiff.

The sword snapped out of Rae’s grip. It flew astonishingly high into the air, flipping end over end, the blade flashing in the strong sunlight.

As they watched, it came down, down, down, missed the deck, and plunged straight into the ocean off the starboard side. As one, Zander and Rae rushed to the rail, hitting it at the same time.

A few bubbles boiled on the surface of the water as the sword swiftly sank, and then it was gone.

CHAPTER SIX

“Shit!” Panic burned Rae’s chest. She grabbed the railing, desperately searching the water, then started to climb over, every instinct making her want to heave herself after the sword.

Zander hauled her back with strong arms. He released her with a suddenness that made her stumble and then launched himself over the boat’s side in a perfect swan dive.

“Zander—no!” Rae rushed to the railing, clinging to it as she peered over.

Nothing but blue-black water and streaks of foam met her eyes. Empty ocean under empty sky.

Shit, shit, shit!

Zander would die down there—that water was frigid. Even a Shifter couldn’t survive it.

Rae frantically tugged at the life preserver lashed to the side of the wheelhouse. She’d throw it onto the water, for all the good it would do, then call 911. She wasn’t sure what good that would do either. The boat must have some kind of distress signal mechanism in the pilot house, but how she’d figure out which button did what, she didn’t have a clue.

The stupid life preserver wouldn’t come free—damn it. Rae knew she hadn’t dropped the sword—it had jerked itself from her grasp. She’d heard a faint, silvery tone, as though the sword had been laughing.

The water where Zander had gone in began to roil. Rae pushed herself from the life preserver and ran to the side again. Below her, foam churned, bubbles hissing.

The head of a giant polar bear abruptly broke the waves, his ears flat, eyes open, the Sword of the Guardian clenched firmly between his big teeth.

The polar bear’s body followed. The great beast, its white fur sodden, catapulted from the water, its torso rising above the side of the boat. The sword clattered to the deck as the bear let it go.

Great black paws scrabbled on the railing, the small boat listing heavily, then the bear lost his hold and slipped back down under the water.

Before Rae could run for the life preserver again, Zander in human form broke the surface. He grabbed the railing with hard hands, got one bare foot on the gunwale, and heaved himself over the side, landing on his feet.

He stood dripping on the deck, his chest rising with his heavy breath. His bare, wet body glistened, sunlight picking out a chain tattoo around his biceps, another around his ankle.

Zander was a big man, hard all over, everything in proportion. Including . . . Rae couldn’t stop her gaze falling to his cock, which hung thick and long. The rest of him—arms, thighs, shoulders, pecs—were worth looking at too. The water darkened his hair, making his beard black and the hair at his phallus just as black.

Zander shook himself like a dog, showering Rae with freezing water. Rae thrust up her hands and shrieked and Zander started laughing.

She liked his laugh, a deep rumble that vibrated the air. Zander put his hands on his hips, naked to the sky and wind, unashamed and unafraid.

Rae leaned down and retrieved the sword. “Thank you,” she said shakily.

“It wasn’t going to let you lose it that easy.” Zander swiped his hands down his arms, dislodging water that rained to the deck. “It was floating six feet under the surface, waiting for me. Stupid hunk of metal.”

The sword flashed, runes dancing, as though it teased them.

“Enough for today,” Zander said. “Keep practicing holding it and finding your footing. I’m not going in that water after it again. Brr.” He shuddered.

While he stood there, robust and obviously not dead, his skin was rising in gooseflesh and his lips were going blue.

Rae laid the sword on the bench and pointed at the cabin. “Inside. You need to dry off. Now.”

Zander’s dark eyes widened. “Yeah? You boss around your dad, a Shiftertown leader, like that?”

“Yes.” Rae put her hands on her hips. “Go!”

“All right, all right. Pushy.”

Zander took his time sauntering to the stairs to the cabin. This let Rae see his tight backside brushed with water, another chain tattoo on the small of his back.

By the time Rae unstuck herself and followed him below, Zander had already opened a cupboard and pulled out a towel. Rae pushed around him and grabbed a fleece blanket off the bed. The towel Zander had produced might be large for humans but it was like a washcloth for a bear-man like Zander.

Rae draped the blanket across his shoulders. Zander caught it and wrapped it around his body and wiped his chest with the towel. “Thanks,” he said.

Rae stepped back so she’d break the temptation to touch him—help him dry his back, his shoulders, his chest . . . “Why aren’t you dead?” she demanded. “I mean, I’m glad you’re not, but I thought I’d be calling my dad and having you fished out to be sent to dust. Or maybe never finding you again.”

Her teeth chattered on the last words and she clenched her mouth shut.

Zander’s face softened as he lifted one damp hand to touch her cheek. “Don’t worry, Little Wolf. I swim out here all the time. If I shift to polar bear, I can take the cold.”

“Real bears have layers of fat to keep cold out. You don’t have any fat.” Rae poked a finger at his rib cage under the blanket. There was no give anywhere.

“I do when I’m a polar bear,” Zander answered in a reasonable tone. “Everything shifts into the best of us in either form. The Goddess knew what she was doing.”

“The Fae made us, not the Goddess,” Rae pointed out. “The Fae dinked with genetic coding and gave us a hefty dose of magic. Shifters aren’t natural.”

Any amusement fled Zander’s face. “Who the hell told you that? Is that what you start believing, living Collared in Shiftertowns?” He flicked his fingers across the Collar on her throat.