Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Marina went to the ocean.
Not to swim; she couldn’t swim, not without her pelt. But the sea had always called to her blood, and now, with everything falling apart, she needed the sound of the waves more than she needed air.
The beach was empty in the early morning light. Grey clouds hung low over the water, and the wind carried the sharp tang of coming rain. Marina walked to the edge of the surf, letting the cold water lap over her feet, and tried to remember what it felt like to be whole.
Her pelt was gone. Even now, standing in the surf, she could almost feel the phantom weight of it across her shoulders. Her grandmother had told her once that a selkie’s pelt was like an extension of their soul—and now someone else held hers in his hands.
The waves rolled in, steady and eternal, and Marina let them soak through her jeans. The cold didn’t bother her; selkie blood ran warm, even when the rest of her felt numb.
It takes work, her grandmother had said once. Every day. From both sides. Love is the beginning, Marina, not the destination.
Her grandmother had loved her grandfather with fierce, unwavering devotion. But they’d also argued. Disagreed. Hurt each other and healed. Their marriage hadn’t been perfect—it had been real.
Maybe she’d been so afraid of imperfection she’d forgotten what real love actually looked like.
Bea found her there an hour later, still standing in the surf with the tide rising around her calves.
“You’re going to get hypothermia,” Bea said, tromping across the sand in her ridiculous purple boots. “And before you say selkies don’t get hypothermia, I know, but you’re also not exactly operating at full selkie capacity right now.”
Marina didn’t turn. “Did he send you?”
“He doesn’t know where you are. The bond tells him you’re nearby, but I asked Estelle to put up a minor confusion ward.
” Bea came to stand beside her, just out of reach of the waves.
“He’s at the beach too, actually. Different end of the cove.
Estelle says he’s been there since dawn, staring at the water. ”
“Probably planning how to destroy more property.”
“Probably thinking about you.”
Marina finally looked at her friend. Bea’s purple hair was windswept, her face unusually serious. The chaos witch who never took anything seriously was studying Marina with unsettling focus.
“I felt it when he shifted,” Marina said. “When he destroyed the hotel. And the moment when his certainty broke.” Her voice cracked. “He asked for help, Bea. Estelle said he actually took her hand and asked for help.”
“That’s new for him.”
“That’s everything for him.” Marina wrapped her arms around herself. “And I’m so scared it’s too late.”
Bea was quiet.
“It’s only too late if you decide it is,” she said. “The full moon’s in three days. You have three days to figure out if you want to keep the bond or let it break.”
“I know what I want. I want to trust him again. I want to believe he can change.” Marina looked away. “I just don’t know if I can.”
“That’s fair.” Bea kicked at the sand. “He hurt you. He dismissed you. He made you feel invisible in your own home. Those aren’t small things.”
“No.”
“But he’s also the first person in years who made you feel seen.” Bea’s hand found her shoulder. “You’re allowed to be hurt. You’re allowed to need time. But you’re also allowed to choose hope, if you want to. Neither choice makes you weak.”
“He’s never going to be perfect,” she said.
“Nobody is.”
“What if he dismisses me again? What if the next time something’s wrong, he doesn’t believe me?”
“Then you remind him. Loudly. With the full force of your selkie fury.” Bea squeezed her shoulder. “And if he still doesn’t listen, then you leave. But you don’t have to leave preemptively just because you’re scared of what might happen.”
“I’m tired of being afraid,” she said.
“Good. Fear is boring.” Bea grinned. “Now come inside before your jeans get completely ruined. Dante made pancakes. They’re terrible, but he’s so proud of them that I didn’t have the heart to say anything.”
Alessandro came to her that afternoon.
She felt him approaching: a steady presence moving toward Bea’s shop, each step deliberate and careful. He wasn’t rushing for once, and he wasn’t demanding anything. Just walking toward her with the patience of someone who had finally learned to wait.
She met him at the door.
He looked terrible. Dark circles under his eyes. Clothes rumpled. A streak of ash still visible near his collar from the hotel destruction. But his eyes, when they met hers, were clearer than she’d ever seen them.
“I’m not going to ask you to forgive me,” he said.
Marina didn’t respond. Just waited.
“I’m going to show you I can be different. However long it takes.”
“Words are easy.”
“I know.” He didn’t reach for her. Didn’t step closer. Just stood there, three feet away, giving her all the space she needed. “That’s why I’m not asking for anything. I’m just telling you what I’m going to do.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to help break the curse. Not alone, with Estelle, with Dante, with everyone who’s willing to contribute.
I’m going to get your pelt back from Malachar.
And I’m going to ask you for your input at every step because your instincts have been right from the beginning and I was too arrogant to listen. ”
His sincerity pressed against her awareness like warmth through glass.
“The curse-breaking recipe needs selkie song,” she said. “Freely given.”
“I know.”
“It also needs dragon tears. Genuine grief.”
“I know that too.”
“So you need me. You can’t do this without me.”
“I know.” He swallowed. “But that’s not why I’m here.
I’m here because even if you say no, even if you let the bond break and never speak to me again, I still want to be better.
For me. For my family. For everyone I’ve hurt by being so determined to control everything that I couldn’t see the damage I was causing. ”
Whether he could stay different was the question.
“Show me,” she said. “Not just words. Actions.”
“I will.”
He turned to go, then stopped. She felt him wrestling with something—a question he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask.
“What is it?”
“The recipe book.” He faced her again. “Where is it? Malachar thinks he destroyed it in the fire, but I know you moved it after we got it back.”
Marina hesitated.
“I hid it at Estelle’s,” she said. “The day after we confronted Malachar. I didn’t tell anyone because…”
“Because you didn’t trust me not to do something reckless with the information.” He nodded slowly. “That was smart.”
She waited for the hurt. The accusation. The old Alessandro would have felt betrayed by her secrecy.
This Alessandro just looked thoughtful.
“You were right to be careful,” he said. “And you were right not to tell me. I would have tried to control the situation. Probably would have made it worse.”
“Estelle has been studying it,” Marina said. “She thinks she understands how the curse-breaking ritual works. But we’ll need to prepare. The ingredients aren’t simple.”
“Tell me what you need. Whatever it is, I’ll help.”
“I need to think first. Talk to Estelle. Figure out the best approach.” She met his eyes. “Can you give me that? Time to think without pressure?”
“I can give you whatever you need.”
“Even if it means staying away?”
He flinched. But he didn’t argue.
“Even then,” he said. “If that’s what you need, I’ll stay away.”
“Not completely away,” she said. “Just… let me come to you. When I’m ready.”
“I can do that.”
“And Alessandro?” She waited until he met her eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime. No confronting Malachar alone. No dramatic gestures. Just… be patient.”
“That’s not my strongest skill.”
“I know. Consider it practice.”
Something almost like a smile crossed his face.
“Three days,” she said. “Show me you can change. Really change. And then we’ll talk about what comes next.”
He nodded once and walked away.
She watched him through the window as he crossed the street. He didn’t look back. Didn’t pause at the corner to see if she was watching.
She closed the door and leaned against it.
Through the window, she could still see him. Halfway down the block now, hands in his pockets.
“Three days,” she whispered to the empty hallway. “Don’t waste them.”