Chapter 11 - Alaric
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ALARIC
We have to talk.
I was well enough to leave, but I had to tell Malia about the witch hunters. When I surveyed the cottage, I found it was much more rundown than I first imagined. She’d never be safe here.
Anybody could barge in at any time.
I could leave more than enough money to help her patch up the place. But that was not the answer… her living conditions were not good, and, at any moment, a storm could rip her cottage to pieces. It was a miracle it still stood.
As I sat on the settee, thinking this, Malia tended to the fire, humming like she always did. I caught myself watching her, the way her hair fell down either side of her face, sometimes blocking it from view, the way she was so ordinary and domestic yet…
It hit me like a splash of cold water in the morning. A wake up call.
I’m done for.
I didn’t mean to stare, but I did. I’d seen beautiful women before but Malia? She was different. The way she moved so effortlessly, the way her lips curved just slightly when she was lost in thought, the way she hummed and enjoyed being in the present moment.
Something in my chest tightened.
I realized the truth.
Oh blast it. I had kept myself from cursing, but a slew of curses rattled off in my head.
It’s her… it’s always been her. I looked away, frustrated at such a revelation. I had gotten involved with other women in the past, something I was not proud of. But it had been surfacey, based on lust and physical attraction. With Malia, it was so much more. So much deeper.
But I can’t stay. I had my whaling empire to get back to. I had a life any man would dream of.
I have to warn her and then leave.
Besides, I had faced the truth long ago. Domestic life wasn’t for me. It never had been. I was too rough. My hands were too dirty to live a life like this… and especially with her. Furthermore, I wouldn’t be the failure that my father was.
I made up my mind.
I’m leaving. After the festival tonight and delivering her goods with her, I’d be on my way.
Yes.
Lights hung from the banyan trees. The Halekai square was full of people.
Music filled the air and I followed Malia as she wove through the crowd, her hand on my wrist. She had struggled the entire way, veering off the path multiple times, tripping on roots.
She finally took my arm and I led the way to town.
She didn’t have to say it, but I knew it was her eyes.
I wished she would tell me what happened, or if it had always been that way, but she didn’t.
It killed me that after tonight, she’d have to stumble home.
Because I’m leaving her. Or I could walk her home… a fierce protectiveness made me want to do that, but my head knew better. If I didn’t leave tonight, I might not leave at all.
“There’s Noni,” Malia said after a long while
She’d been searching the crowd, looking at things in her strange way.
I wish I’d helped Malia look for her friend. All I could do was scan the crowd, wondering if the twins might jump out at any moment.
The witch let go of my hand. “I’ll be back. Don’t get too lost, please.” She smiled warmly and left me there.
I folded my arms and looked around, aware of the Corallure guards standing across the crowd of dancers. They seemed relaxed, as though they were here for a good time too.
A laugh pulled me from my thoughts.
Malia stood beneath the banyan tree, talking to a young man: chestnut hair, dressed like royalty.
Prince Elias.
I stepped closer to the trunk, hoping he wouldn’t see me. What was she doing talking to him?
I’d met Elias once, back when he married Sereth, not long after I chose to rescue her from her stepmother. The rumor was she bit into a poisoned apple, and he broke the spell with a kiss. Their marriage didn’t last. He couldn’t stomach her practices.
Some say Sereth made her stepmother dance in red-hot shoes until she dropped dead. Others say she killed the queen outright. No one knows for sure.
Elias left the lush mountains and army-ridden lands of Moanalei and returned to the tourist-trap and pristine beaches of Corallure. They hadn’t seen each other since: not really husband and wife, not really divorced.
He said something that made Malia smile.
Something twisted in my chest. A sharp, sour feeling I hated. I wanted to march over there and knock that stupid smirk off his face, but I didn’t move.
Malia can talk to whoever she wants.
Then why did it bother me so much that she was talking to him?
She gestured to the loaves she was selling, laughing at something he said. Then they kissed each other’s cheeks and parted ways.
It was nothing. Just a custom.
Still, it made my blood boil. Made my thoughts simmer in disgust that she wasn’t someone I could claim. Never was.
And yet, Elias could make her smile so easily. Did he even really know her? Did he taste her home cooked meals or listen to her gentle humming? Did he know how gracefully she moved and how gently she touched? He didn’t know a thing about her.
Or so I secretly hoped.
I fought the urge to march up to him and shove him to the ground just as a warning to stay away.
But I couldn’t.
Malia and I had never kissed like that. Not even as a greeting.
And suddenly, I wanted it. Maybe more. Badly.
I’d already made my decision.
So why wouldn’t the feelings die?
“So that’s what you’ve been up to.” Destin’s voice sounded close to me. I turned and glared at him, but his attention was riveted on Malia. “Are you sure she hasn’t cast a spell on you?”
“Are you sure you don’t want this fist in your face?” I warned, and Destin rubbed his chin.
“She’s beautiful, Alaric, but…”
“But what?”
“You can’t have her and the sea.”
The dark truth. Destin said it out loud, and it killed me. Made me feel like I was drowning. No air. And there was no way to swim out of this mess.
“Did you find the twins?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I’ve asked around. A couple of villagers have seen them.”
I touched the dagger at my side. They must be here then… My attention went straight to Malia, watching her every move.
I can’t let anything happen to her.
“Keep an eye out,” I said to Destin and he nodded, excusing himself as she began to approach.
When the witch reached me, the smile on her face disappeared slowly. It made my shoulders tighten. Why didn’t she smile around me? Did I scare her, just as I scared everyone else?
“Were you talking to someone?” she asked.
I hesitated, and her cheeks colored. “You’re most welcome to dance with any of the women here if you’d like, Alaric. I think I’m going to walk home now though.”
I didn’t want to dance with any of the women here.
Just her.
“Let’s dance,” I said, not thinking, and she blushed again.
“I don’t dance. I mean… I haven’t danced in years.”
“Good.” I took her hand and led her into the circle.
My mother taught me to dance when I was younger, and, much to my surprise, Malia seemed to know the moves as well.
It was an island waltz, which was fast enough for things not to get awkward, but slow enough that I could hold her close to me and we could talk.
She danced like a princess, as if she’d been trained to do this.
“Was that the prince you spoke to?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes. He was my first customer to buy baked goods and he’s enjoyed them ever since.”
My jaw tightened. Stupid prince. Well I’d been enjoying more than just her baked goods. She made meals and snacks and if only he knew what an incredible cook she was…
Stop, Alaric. But I couldn’t.
“Is something bothering you?” Malia asked. “You seem… tense, like someone’s going to rob your ship.”
Oh yes. I was very tense. “Maybe someone did rob my ship.”
Then her eyebrows raised, as if she realized something. “What would you do if I kissed you?” The question came out of nowhere, and it sent my head reeling.
“What? You wouldn’t?”
“Wouldn’t I?” She leaned in, just a fraction. Enough to make my hands curl into fists.
“Don’t.”
She leaned back, then said. “I want to try something.” And just like that, she pressed a soft kiss to my jaw. I inhaled sharply, my whole world turning upside down. She searched my face, and then the softest smile touched her lips.
I was done for.
I grabbed her hand and led her out of the circle, walking through the quiet streets until we reached an empty alley.
I’d had all these plans to leave. I’d rehearsed what I’d say, a hundred times over. But the words slipped away the moment I silently admitted my feelings for her.
I braced one hand on the stone archway behind her, caging her in—not to trap her, but to keep myself from falling apart.
“Tell me to stop,” I whispered.
Her eyes looked past me, wide and unreadable. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Her silence undid me.
“Tell me to leave, Malia.” My voice cracked. My nose brushed hers. A breath of contact, nothing more. But she leaned toward me.
“Tell me...” I said.
I knew this was impossible—me, the whaler. Her, the witch. A life divided by sea and spell.
But she said nothing. And that silence was everything.
So I kissed her.
It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t practiced. It was like giving in to a storm: wild, reckless, the kind a man survives only once.
Her hands found my shoulders, and I nearly lost my grip.
I told myself it would be one kiss. A mistake I could take back. But then her mouth met mine again, and suddenly it was more… too much. My hands found her waist, then her back, trying to memorize the shape of something I was never meant to hold.
I pulled her closer. Closer than I should.
I was losing control.
This wasn’t just a kiss. It was a tide. And I was being pulled under.
I broke away, breath ragged, forehead pressed to hers. My whole body shook with restraint.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Malia, I’m sorry.”
She held me close, her eyes shut. “You’re leaving.” It was more of a statement than a question, and I felt the hurt and heartache beneath her words.
She would never ask me to stay.
She knew me… my life… the blood on my hands.
Her fingers clutched the fabric of my shirt, as she buried her face in my chest, hot tears kissing my skin.
“Thank you for everything, Malia, but… I can’t stay,” I said again, the unspoken truth wedging between us, a barnacle clinging fast to the hull of a sinking ship. My heart was pounding like war drums before a storm, and my blood pulsed through my veins like tidewater through a broken dam.
I wanted to stay.
Wanted this life with her.
But I could never be the man she wants and needs.
I pulled away, leaving her there alone.
Go back, Alaric! My heart raged at me. But it was silly to think we could work out. I belonged on my ship at sea, commanding fleets and men to obey my every word. We were too different: her softness, my rigidness.
Her kindness, my cruelty.
Her innocence, my shame.
Her beauty, my beastliness.
I stormed down the street, knowing this was how it had to end… even though every inch of me wanted to turn around and be with her again.
When I turned the corner, I stopped and took a deep breath, gazing out at the dark sea. So that was our goodbye. The kiss.
I rubbed my forehead and looked up at the stars. I wasn’t a very religious man, but I began to wonder, like Malia, why Akua allowed me to survive this long. There were many close encounters in my life, and many shreds of luck or coincidences that allowed me to survive.
Just like the whale with the white tail…
Taking a deep breath I rubbed my face again. What am I to do?
Go back to my whaling life… Go back where I belonged. Yes.
Just as I made up my mind and began pacing down the street, a sound pierced the night air.
A scream.
Not just any scream… her scream. I whirled on my heels and sprinted back to where I came.
“Malia!”