Chapter 15 Violet
Violet
I’d never seen anything so terrifying in my life.
Maybe it was because the only water I’d ever known were the clear streams that cut through the Mountain Realm, the still ponds, the quiet shimmer of the Starlight Lagoon. Those had edges. Boundaries. They made sense.
This didn’t.
The ocean stretched endlessly beside us, steel-blue and restless, beating itself against the cliffs. The rock rose jagged and uneven, and every time the wind shifted, spray climbed the stone and kissed my skin.
I leaned slightly out of Sebastian’s hold, watching more closely.
Something moved beneath the surface.
At first, I told myself it was shadow—light bending, depth playing tricks on me—but then one shape curved too smoothly. Another flashed pale beneath the water, long and sinuous, too large to be a fish.
Farther out, a massive creature shifted, dark as ink beneath glass.
The first thing rose closer this time, and for a heartbeat, a sleek, scaled back broke the surface. And then, just for a second, a face turned toward me. Not fully fae, not fully anything I recognized, but aware in a way that made my breath catch.
“Are those—” I started.
“Stay seated,” Sebastian murmured, his arm tightening slightly around my waist.
Another broke the surface and looked straight at me through glowing eyes.
“They are deadly, but don’t come close to the cliffs,” Sebastian said. “Unless called.”
“Called by who?” I asked.
“The Ocean Sovereign,” Adar answered from ahead. “Who else?”
I clenched my fists. “Can another Sovereign call for them and send them on someone else?”
That had Adar turned toward me, his mouth already open, but his eyes shifted to behind me and whatever look Sebastian gave him had him keeping his thoughts to himself.
I smiled at the small victory for me.
The cliffs eventually softened into long, sloping hills of silver-green grass, wind bending them in ripples that mirrored the sea below. The road kept close to the water, sometimes climbing, sometimes dipping low enough that the spray misted the air and left salt on my lips.
Then the path curved downward, and the coastline opened into something I hadn’t been prepared for.
A beach.
The water here was lighter, blue turning almost turquoise near the shore, sunlight fracturing across the surface in liquid gold. Gulls wheeled lazily overhead, their cries softer, less sharp than the wind along the cliffs.
It was… beautiful. Beautiful in a way that made my chest ache.
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped breathing until Sebastian’s arm tightened slightly around me.
“It’s safe,” he said, his voice brushing my ear.
Safe.
The tide rolled in slow and easy, foam curling over the sand before slipping back again.
“Stop,” I said, the word leaving me before I could think better of it.
Sebastian didn’t hesitate.
Adar turned his horse with visible reluctance but didn’t argue.
I slid down before Sebastian could offer his hand, my boots sinking slightly into the warm sand. It shifted under me in a way I never thought the ground could, and I adjusted instinctively, my balance catching after a step.
I walked toward the water slowly.
The first wave touched my boots and retreated.
I crouched, pressing my fingers into the foam as it rolled in again, the water slipping around my skin, cool and alive, tugging lightly as it pulled back.
“Amazing,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.
Sebastian stepped up beside me.
“Is it everything you dreamed of?”
I glanced at him, and he wasn’t looking at the ocean.
He was looking at me.
The wind pushed his hair back. There was something softer in his expression like this, right here, was what he had wanted.
Me seeing it.
Me feeling it.
“It’s even better,” I said.
I wasn’t talking about the ocean, and he knew it.
A faint smile touched his mouth.
Another wave rolled in, higher this time, soaking the hem of my pants. I didn’t move. Out farther, a creature surfaced again, watching before disappearing again.
“Do they know we’re here?” I asked.
“They know,” he said. “They just don’t care.”
I let out a quiet breath.
Someone not caring about us.
That was… new.
I stood and turned back toward them, wind tugging at my hair, pulling loose strands free.
“Can we stay a minute?” I asked.
Sebastian’s gaze softened in that quiet way he never let anyone else see.
“I think it’s safe enough to stay the night,” he said. “I’d rather wait until daylight to step into a lost realm.”
We didn’t rush after that.
Adar set a perimeter, choosing higher ground with a clear line of sight, while Sebastian handled the horses, his shadows moving with quiet efficiency as he tethered them just beyond the sand where the grass still grew.
I walked along the shoreline, boots abandoned behind me, letting the waves chase my feet. Each time the tide pulled back, it dragged sand from beneath my feet, shifting my balance just enough to make me slow.
Sebastian joined me again as the light softened, his shoulder brushing mine.
We stood there and watched the tide roll in and out.
The wind shifted as the sun dipped lower, the gold deepening into an amber that made the water look like it was holding light beneath its surface instead of reflecting it.
I didn’t want to leave it.
I didn’t want to leave this version of myself either—the one that wasn’t thinking about crowns or war or what I was supposed to become.
“Violet,” Sebastian murmured.
“Hm?”
“You need to eat.”
I glanced back at him over my shoulder, the corner of my mouth lifting. “I’m not hungry.”
“You are,” he said easily. “You just don’t realize it yet.”
“I’m busy.”
His brow lifted slightly. “Doing what?”
“Experiencing the ocean,” I said, like it was obvious.
His mouth twitched. “You can experience it after you eat.”
I took a slow step backward into the water, the next wave curling around my ankles. “I think the ocean would disagree with you.”
“Violet.”
I narrowed my eyes as I took another step back. “You’ll have to catch me first!”
I didn’t wait for his response.
I turned and ran.
The sand shifted under my feet, slowing me just enough that I knew this was a terrible plan, even as I laughed. The water chased me up the shore, the wind catching in my hair, pulling it loose behind me as I tried to find steadier ground.
I didn’t get far.
Sebastian caught me around the waist in one smooth movement, momentum carrying us a step before he lifted me clean off the ground like I weighed nothing.
I let out a breathless laugh, gripping his shoulders as he spun me once, the world tilting into gold and sky and sea.
“Cheating,” I accused.
“You said catch you,” he said, entirely unrepentant. “You didn’t set rules.”
My hair fell around us as he slowed, his hands steady at my waist, not letting me drop just yet. The light caught in his eyes. They were a softer blue than I’d ever seen them.
“You’re going to be the end of me,” he said.
I swallowed, my fingers tightening slightly against his shoulders. “That sounds like a you problem.”
His mouth curved, but his gaze didn’t shift. “Then it’s a problem I don’t plan on fixing.”
For a second, neither of us moved.
The wind tugged at us, the ocean moving behind him in slow, endless rhythm, the world narrowing down to the space between us. He set me down slowly, his arm settling naturally around my shoulders as we turned back toward the water.
The sun dipped lower, touching the horizon now, spilling light across the surface in molten streaks that made everything feel quieter.
“Worth the trip?” he murmured.
“Yes,” I said softly. “All of it.”
Even the parts I didn’t understand yet.
Even the parts that scared me.
His hand brushed absent patterns along my arm, grounding without thinking.
I glanced back toward where we’d made camp.
Adar sat on the rise above the sand, exactly where he’d positioned himself earlier, a clear line of sight over the beach and the cliffs beyond. He hadn’t moved much—still, watchful, carved from the same sharp edges as always.
And staring directly at us. Guarding. Fucking judging.
I leaned a little closer into Sebastian.
The last edge of the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.
And for once, I didn’t rush past it.
* * *
I woke slowly.
Sebastian’s arm was still wrapped around me, his body a steady line of cool against the heat that radiated off of me while we slept—or while I slept.
He hadn’t.
I knew it before I even turned my head.
I could feel it. He hadn’t let himself drift.
I didn’t call him on it.
Instead, I let myself stay there for a moment longer, watching the light creep higher across the water, turning it from soft gray-blue brighter.
“We should go soon,” he murmured, his voice low against my hair.
“I know.”
Neither of us moved right away.
Then the moment passed.
We packed quickly after that. The ease of the beach slipped away with the rising sun, replaced by purpose again—by movement, by direction. Adar was already up, already mounted, already watching the horizon.
Sebastian helped me into the saddle, his hands lingering just long enough at my waist to ground me before we started forward again.
The ocean stayed at our side for a while, then slowly fell away behind us.
And the world changed.
The road narrowed the closer we came to the border, the ground turning into scorched clay, cracked and dry like it hadn’t known water in years. Even the wind felt different here. It lost the softness of salt, the cool edge of the sea, and turned sharp and brittle.
A low ridge rose ahead of us.
As the horse climbed, I braced myself without meaning to—expecting another crossing like the others. A fort filled with guards, questions, and resistance.
But when we reached the top, I realized this border was nothing like the others. It was abandoned. As I stared at the empty fort, an ache opened slowly behind my ribs.
“Where are the guards?” I asked. “No one’s watching this border?”
Sebastian slowed the horse beside Adar, and for a moment, he didn’t answer.