Chapter 48 #3
His lip twitches, and he stabs his gaze at the sand beside him, as if he can’t bear to look at me.
Taking that as my cue, I spin, stalking toward the quay. “And someone needs to water my plants,” I throw over my shoulder, rolling my sleeve and concealing my torn-up wrist.
Feeling like a boulder has landed atop my chest, I climb the stone stairs that rise from the sand and merge with the elevated wharf, keeping my shoulders back, walking with the ruse of a certainty I don’t possess.
I scale aged, weather-beaten planks slippery from the rain, chin notched high, ignoring the odd flick of silver frills through the waves to my side.
I hope Kai doesn’t try to accost me ... If he does, I’ll fall apart. Scatter on this dock and refuse to pull myself together again.
He’d probably still wrap me in his ocean arms and tell me everything’s going to be okay. But it’s not. And it shouldn’t be.
Not for me.
I count each of the five hundred and twenty-two steps it takes to reach the boat with the big blue sail, its deck busy with the bustling energies of numerous seafaring men.
Baze’s ring scalds my palm, and I dare a peek back down the jetty that’s hazy from a spray of sea mist.
He’s nowhere to be seen, and I wonder which he’s more ashamed of: his scars or his heritage.
Me? I’m not hiding from anyone but myself. My fake shell might be tight and uncomfortable, but what’s below the surface is much worse ...
A beautiful, malignant disaster.
Kneeling, gaze still pinned to the dim scoop of the bay and those shark-tooth stones that decorate its gloomy smile, I set the ring down. When I rise, I somehow feel heavier.
My attention swings to the long, sleek boat that’s built specifically for cutting through the harsh terrain of an unforgiving ocean ... not that it alleviates my chest-cinching anxiety.
Toes barely kissing the ramp, my feet anchor to the pier. The strong, sturdy, familiar pier I’ve looked down on every day for the past nineteen years, never imagining I’d be in this position.
It feels more like a plank because once I step onto that vessel, that’s it. I’m across my Safety Line.
Those final steps seem insurmountable.
My pulse whooshes in my ears, louder than the crashing waves.
Strong, resilient, composed ...
I glance up into a mix of unfamiliar faces. The captain is staring down his nose at me from the deck—gray hair tied back, blue blazer pinched with golden buttons that hug a strong physique.
He scans my face as if he’s seeing all the cracks there. “The tide’s dropping. If we don’t leave now, we’ll smash our keel on our way out the bay.”
“Shit,” I mutter without moving my lips.
Always shield your weakness.
I draw on the sea air, then step onto the ramp—every muscle in my body braced to pounce. The sword hanging from my hand becomes the victim of my crushing fist, each footfall taking me deeper into unsafe territory.
But that drop to the deck comes too swiftly, and I swallow again, trying to force my sledging heart down my throat as I look at my feet ...
I feel like I’m standing on the edge of that chasm in my mind, peering into the gloom, afraid of what might be down there. Knowing it’s likely something hideous that will rock me to the core.
But I can’t afford to hide anymore.
You can do it! Just push your arms out like you’re flying and slide your foot forward ...
His voice sings to my tortured soul, shooting steel into my spine. I nod to myself—to him —stare stabbing out across the bay.
I picture his hands outstretched and waiting. Picture his big, half-moon smile. Pretend I’m moving toward that bolt of happiness that struck me as I fell into his arms and was tickled into a ball.
Breath held captive, I step onto the sturdy, hard-wood deck ...
I expect to feel some immediate shift in the air. Expect my entire body to fold over in unimaginable pain, or for a Vruk to spring forth and slash at me with talons that squeal with every swipe. I expect many things, and though none of them happen, I feel no relief.
I just took the most important step of my life, and those tickles never came.
My fault.
All my fault.
I release a fractured breath, trying not to blink—worried that if I do, my emotions will spill down my cheeks and everyone will bear witness to my fragile state.
My weakness.
Captain studies me through pale eyes, many years etched in the wrinkled skin around them. He makes a gruff sound, then mutters something below his breath before relaying a bunch of orders to his crew.
Kavan shoves my basket at me and stalks toward the stairs that disappear below deck. Vanth stays a moment longer, watching me with a guarded expression that makes me want to fidget.
“You’re on a Bahari vessel now, Mistress. ”
The last word is tossed at me like a threat.
“Thank you, Vanth. I’m well aware . ”
“Good.”
He scores me with scrutiny for a moment longer, gaze flicking to my cupla before he follows the same path Kavan just took.
The moment he disappears from sight, I loosen a tight breath ...
Perhaps he didn’t take too well to being knocked on his arse.
Everyone begins to buzz around, preparing to break away from port. Desperate to tuck into a quiet corner, I make for the bow of the boat where I can look down on the wake it will soon be carving through the merciless, gray ocean.
I remove my hairpin, letting my heavy locks fall around me like a shield, as if it could protect me from the stares drilling holes in my back.
Gripping my baby conch, I search for another sign of those silver frills stirring up the water, but Kai is nowhere to be seen.
A painful pang of regret twists my insides ...
I should have been honest with him, but Kai would want nothing more than to rescue me, and he can’t save me from myself.
I close my eyes and lift the shell to my lips. “ I’m so sorry ... ”
The words are whispered, and I swear the shell speaks back to me, though when I lift it to my ear, all I get is the breathing sound of the ocean.
Glancing out across the bay, I’m unable to stop the tear that slips free, using my shoulder to wipe it away.
Strong, composed, resilient.
I shouldn’t look to Castle Noir—know that if I do, it could plant yet another seed of regret.
Not that it stops me.
My eyes flick up, stare landing on the dense, black smudge protruding from the cliff like a grisly diadem. Salty air whips at my hair, seasons my lips, and chills my cheeks as I explore everything I hold so dear ...
It’s hard to breathe looking up at my whole life from afar, so I dip my nose into the basket, letting him fill my lungs and soothe my chaotic mind.
“Outward bound!” one of the sailors shouts, and the boat peels away from the dock. The main sail is lowered and wind fills its belly, lurching us forward with such force I’m compelled to drop my basket in exchange for gripping the rail.
A deep rumble rattles the air, as though a mountain just shifted from its ancient perch. The hairs on the back of my neck lift, and my gaze lashes to the tip of Stony Stem perched high in the sky like the pinched bud of an immature bloom ...
To the robust shadow of a man standing on my balcony, watching us leave.
Rhordyn.
He looks so out of place, his severity contradicting the pretty, delicate blooms of my wisteria vine twisting around the balustrade.
An icy trail of perusal carves across my face, to my wrist, before whipping down my leg as if tasting my blood from afar.
My breath becomes prisoner to lungs that have forgotten how to function ...
He won’t let you go, Orlaith. He will hunt you.
The echo of Baze’s parting words rattle me to the core, though a stronger, more dominant part of me rears up, almost welcoming the challenge.
He can try.
I square my shoulders and pretend Rhordyn’s arctic scrutiny isn’t flaying me from afar as the wind pushes me toward the arms of another man.