Chapter Twenty-Seven #3
This stretch of beach was a royal secret—hidden, quiet, off-limits to the public. Our own private island offered a breath away from Draconia’s tight quarters. A place untouched by court or crowd.
“Have you sailed before?” Kallias asked as he clambered in.
“Often.” I grabbed the ropes, lowering the sail. “Greaves, would you be so kind?”
The man stared at his king for a moment, clearly considering whether to toss him overboard or follow orders. With a grunt, he gave the boat a shove. Water surged at his legs before he jumped in, boots thudding beside mine.
Wind caught the canvas, and the vessel shot forward, cutting across the blue.
Ronan had Gyrak and could fly wherever he pleased. This was all I had. My escape. My secret refuge. I came here often as a child. Sometimes Adoni joined me. That memory surfaced, bitter and sour, but I pushed it back. Not today.
The beach wasn’t far. A crescent-shaped sliver of land. The eastern shore, shielded by jagged rock, faced away from Draconia. No eyes followed us here.
I pulled the boat into the worn dock and jumped ashore, tying off the line.
Thin trees stretched toward the sun, crowding the strip of sand. Lush vines spilled down stone walls. The ground shimmered, warm and gold, soft beneath my feet. No rocks. No gulls. Just wind and waves and silence.
Kallias stepped onto the dock, eyes taking in the emptiness. “It’s peaceful.”
“And private.” I reached for a boulder, tugging off my boots. “Draconia is all stone and noise. People are always watching. Mother taught me to sail as a girl. This place became my escape—away from Ronan, from the Spire, from everything.”
“Your father let a child out to sea?”
“No doubt Argos flew overhead.” I shook my head, stacking my boots beside the dock. “But back then, it felt like freedom.”
Kallias watched me, his gaze lingering.
“Where do you want me, Kal?” Greaves asked. He stood in the boat, black uniform baking under the day’s heat. His eyes flicked to my bare feet, then to his king.
“Wherever’s comfortable,” Kallias muttered, his attention never leaving mine. “What are you doing, Nienna?”
“Swimming.”
“Sun above.” He cursed under his breath.
“You’ve never swum before?”
“Not in the ocean.”
“Help me with these laces?” I turned, pulling my hair over one shoulder, offering him my back.
He stepped in close. His fingers worked the knots loose, slow and careful. His mouth brushed my ear, voice low. “Just how far are you stripping?”
“Enough to swim.”
“Would that be all of it?”
“Kallias, if you refuse to give me all of you before we wed, you certainly won’t see all of me.”
A laugh caught in his throat as he dropped his forehead to my shoulder. “Thank Elohios.”
The dress slipped. I held it against my chest as the fabric slid down my arms. His lips trailed kisses, the edge of his scruff scratching along my skin—soft and warm and maddening.
With a heavy sigh, he dropped beside me and yanked off his boots. Greaves sat with his back turned, one foot propped along the dock’s sun-bleached planks, the other dangling above the glinting water.
I let my dress fall. Cool air brushed my skin as I stepped free of the fabric and shook out the sand. The folds draped easily over the boulder, catching a shimmer of light.
Kallias wrestled with his mantle. I waited, arms folded, watching. He unclasped the last chain, gaze flicking to mine. The conflict there—always layered, always restrained—pinched at me.
“Just catch it,” he said.
Some part of me bristled that he still wouldn’t let me help remove it, but I caught the heavy gold all the same, setting it atop my dress. Sunlight sparked off the engraved shoulder plates, carving shadows across the fabric.
He peeled off his vest, folded it with rigid care, then stripped his tunic. Still, he refused to meet my eyes. His shoulders flexed, every muscle taut as the shirt cleared his head.
The wound had sealed. Silver strands were growing back across scorched flesh. His chest glistened, a map of hard lines and sharp dips. Pale skin was taut over his abs, and as he twisted, shadows caught along his muscled sides.
No softness remained—just the strength he refused to let fade with age.
He paused at his belt. He glanced over, jaw tight. His gaze drifted across my chest binding, trailed down my torso to the hem of my trousers. Traced the dip and swell of my hips, my bare feet, then climbed back up.
He sniffed. His hands fell from his belt, as if my clothing had sealed his decision.
“Yours are too baggy,” I said, crouching to tug at the loose fabric clinging to his calf. “Mine won’t drag me down.”
“I’m not swimming,” he muttered, stepping away.
“Even if I swear to keep my hands to myself?” I straightened and planted my fists on my hips.
A piercing trill cracked the silence. Tsunami swooped low over the treetops, golden wings slicing the sky. She banked, circling wide before crashing down into the shallows with a slap of water and spray. Warm waves surged around my calves.
I jogged forward as she stretched her neck toward me. Her muzzle bumped my chest. I nudged her aside, eyeing the gleam in her stare—she wasn’t here for me.
She cut between us, blocking Kallias from view. Her tail whipped past me. I ducked, narrowly avoiding the swipe of muscle thicker than my torso.
Tsunami lowered her head to meet his gaze, one gilded eye narrowing like she was solving a riddle. I shoved at her scaled foot, trying to urge her back into the surf. She huffed, snout twitching as she glanced at me.
“Give us space to swim,” I called, shoving again.
She grumbled, a garbled vibration deep in her throat, then sloshed to the side. Kallias lifted a hand to shade his eyes, squinting up at her while she studied him like prey.
“She doesn’t do this with my men,” he said, lowering onto the sand.
“She dominates the northern skies.” I passed him without pausing. The ocean called, warm and inviting. “You wouldn’t notice, but the riders know. She’s claimed your ship, too. She’s curious.”
I didn’t wait for a response before diving into the waves.
The water pulled and pushed around me as I cut forward. Salt burned my nose. My limbs stretched, slicing through the weightless blue. I broke the surface, tossed the wet hair from my eyes, and searched the shore.
Kallias hadn’t moved.
I swam loops in the shallows, each lap a silent invitation. He stayed rooted on land.
Wading back, I gripped my chest wrap and rose from the waves. Wetness sheeted down my skin, curling around my hips. Foam lapped at my thighs.
“Come swim with me?” I called.
His eyes tracked me, dark with hunger. “I don’t do well with deep water.”
“You can swim, though?” I flicked my hair over my shoulder, droplets spattering across the ground.
“Enough to keep breathing,” he said. Final. Closed. That door wasn’t mine to open. I sighed and walked up the shore, clutching my wrap tighter.
I flopped beside him. He bent a knee, putting distance between us like armor. Wet sand clung to my skin. I leaned back on my hands, chest lifted, chin tipped toward the sun.
“I almost drowned once.” His voice dropped low. His gaze swept over my curves, but his mind drifted elsewhere. “A river runs from Mount Dariel to the foothills. The Velli attacked there, and I learned fast that fighting in water is a thousand times harder than on land.”
Sunlight kissed his cheekbones. He looked carved in firelight, jaw locked, throat tight. The memory didn’t sit well.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
Tsunami curled her massive body around us, resting her head beside Kallias. For a heartbeat, there was no throne. No duty. No kingdom.
Just Kallias and Nienna.
A man and a woman.
Drifting toward a future as bright as the sun.