Chapter 20
RAFE
She's not breathing.
Moira collapses against me, her body going limp in my arms. The last of her magic poured into my wound. Into saving me. Now there's nothing left.
"Moira." My voice breaks. "Moira, stay with me."
Her chest doesn't rise. Her lips are blue. The ocean claimed too much of her tonight. The fight with Catalina. The dive into the deep. The healing magic she channeled through every cell of her body until there was nothing left but will.
Even will has limits.
Declan's beside me in an instant, his hands pressing to her throat. Checking for a pulse. His face goes pale. "Rafe."
"No." The word tears from my throat. "She doesn't get to die. Not after everything. Not after saving everyone."
"I don't know what to do." Declan's voice is raw. Strained. "She's burned out. Her magic's gone. There's nothing to work with."
The brotherhood gathers around us. All of them staring at the woman who saved the island. Who freed the dead. Who stopped an ancient evil from rising.
She can't die. I won't let her.
My shadows respond before conscious thought. They pour from my skin. Dark and cold and powerful. The magic that's always been mine. The gift I inherited from my grandfather. Shadow-walking. Death-touched.
The opposite of everything Moira is.
Light and water. Life and healing. She's the ocean at dawn. I'm the darkness that hides beneath. We shouldn't work together. Our magic should repel. Should fight.
But love doesn't care about should.
The shadows wrap around her, sinking into her skin.
Dark tendrils binding to pale limbs. Not to smother but to anchor.
To give her fading life force something solid to cling to when her own magic has abandoned her.
It looks wrong. Looks like corruption. But it's not.
It's mine. And she's mine. And I will not lose her.
"Rafe, what are you doing?" Declan's voice is sharp with alarm.
"Saving her."
Light and dark. Water and shadow. Opposites that should destroy each other. Instead, they bind.
Her chest hitches. Once. Twice. Salt water explodes from her mouth. She's coughing. Choking. Gasping for air that her lungs forgot they needed.
Her eyes flutter open. Human. Alive. Seeing me.
"Rafe?" Her voice is barely a whisper. "Elspeth. Did we—?"
"The binding broke." I hold her carefully, mindful of injuries I can't see. "You did it. You saved them all."
"She pushed me up. Elspeth. I felt her." Tears cut tracks through salt and exhaustion on her face. "She saved me."
The Sound is calm now. No more corruption. No more death magic staining the water black. Bodies float on the surface, peaceful at last. No longer animated. No longer weapons. Just the dead, finally allowed to rest.
Declan's already coordinating the recovery. The brotherhood spreads out across the water. Pulling corpses from the Sound. Treating them with dignity. These people deserve proper burials. Deserve their families' closure.
Marco. Brigid. Others whose names I never learned. Deaths that Catalina turned into weapons. Souls now free.
But Elspeth. Where's Elspeth?
Moira's thinking the same thing. She struggles to sit up, searching the water with desperate eyes. "Where is she? Where's my sister?"
"I don't know." The admission feels like failure. "I haven't seen her."
Grayson approaches, water streaming from his fur. He shifts, naked and exhausted. "We've recovered the rest of the bodies of Catalina’s victims, but there was no child's body."
"She has to be here." Moira tries to stand. Fails. I catch her before she collapses again. "She was bound. She was one of them. She has to be—"
"Maybe she wasn't bound the same way." Declan crouches beside us. "Maybe because she died so long ago. Or because she was a child. Or because she was Flynn blood. The binding might have been different."
"Or maybe she's just gone." Moira's voice cracks. "Maybe I freed her and she dissipated. Maybe there's nothing left."
"We'll search." I tighten my hold on her. "We'll find answers. But not tonight. Tonight you need rest. You need healing."
"I need to know if I saved her or killed her."
"You saved her." The certainty in my voice surprises even me. "I felt it when the binding broke. They were all freed. All of them."
"Then where is she?"
I don't have an answer. None of us do.
Moira weeps in my arms. Relief and grief and exhaustion tangled together. The brotherhood works around us. Respectful. Quiet. Giving us space while they clean up the aftermath of battle.
Dawn breaks pink and gold over the Sound. A new day. A new beginning.
But Elspeth is gone.
Three days pass in a blur of recovery and mourning.
The island buries its dead with honor. Coffins lined in rows.
Old Tom has been found and stands with the rest of the islanders, solemn but grateful.
The families of the victims are finally getting closure after months or years of not knowing.
The grief cuts deep, but the relief is real too.
Their loved ones are home. At peace. No longer suffering.
Moira attends every funeral. Stands in the back. Says nothing. But her presence means something to these people. The sea witch who fought for their dead. Who freed them from torment. Who gave them rest.
She's still weak. Her magic returns in trickles. Barely enough to sense the tides. To feel the ocean's heartbeat. Nothing like the power she wielded during the battle. That kind of expenditure takes time to recover from.
I don't leave her side. My shoulder heals clean. No infection. No lingering corruption. The death magic purged by ocean water and Moira's unconscious healing flows between us as we sleep tangled together.
The bond we formed during the fight hasn't faded. Her exhaustion pulses through it. Her grief. Her desperate need to know if Elspeth survived. And she senses my steady presence. My unwavering certainty that we'll find answers.
On the third day, she's strong enough to walk to the water.
We go at dawn. The same tidal pools where this all began. Where I first saw her standing in moonlight, calling the ocean to her command. Where I fell for a woman I had no business wanting.
She moves carefully. Still healing. Still weak. But determined.
"What are we doing?" I ask, though I already know.
"Looking for my sister."
The largest pool reflects the morning sky. Pink and gold and the last purple shadows of night. Moira kneels at the edge. Places both hands in the water. Closes her eyes.
Magic flows from her. Weak but pure. Clean ocean power reaching out. Searching. Calling.
"Elspeth." Her voice carries across the pools. "Sister. If you're here, if you can hear me, please. Let me know you're all right."
Nothing. Just waves and wind and morning light.
Moira's shoulders slump. "She's gone. She's really gone."
"Wait." A ripple spreads across the pool's center. Wind wouldn't make that pattern. Natural current wouldn't either.
The water shimmers. Gathers. Forms.
A shape rises from the pool. Eight years old. Smiling. Made of water and light and morning sun.
Elspeth.
But not the corrupted thing Catalina bound. Not the drowned girl trapped in torment. This is something new. Something beautiful. Pure sea-spirit. Part of the ocean itself.
"Moira." Her voice sounds like waves breaking on shore. Like laughter carried on salt air. "You freed me. You saved me."
"I'm so sorry." Moira's tears fall into the pool. "I should have saved you that day. Should have been faster. Should have pulled you from the water in time. Should have—"
"Stop." Elspeth's water-hand touches her face. The touch is cool. Gentle. Real enough to feel through the bond. "It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault. I drowned because I was careless. Because I was eight and stupid and didn't listen to Gran's warnings. Not because of you."
"But you suffered. That woman bound you. Tortured you—"
"For a little while." Elspeth spins, laughing.
The sound is joy itself. "But you freed me.
And now look." She gestures at herself. At the water she's made of.
At the light that shines through her. "Now I'm part of the ocean.
Part of everything. I can visit. Talk to you.
Watch over you. But I'm not trapped anymore. Not hurting. Not bound."
She's changed. Transformed. She's become what all of those of the Flynn bloodline become when they die. Part of Stormhaven's magic. Part of the sea itself.
"I can't stay long. Not in this form. It takes energy." Elspeth looks at me, her eyes older and wiser than eight. "Take care of my sister. She's stubborn and reckless and too brave for her own good."
Something catches in my chest. "I will. I promise."
"I know you will." A smile plays across her water-face. "You're good for her. You make her happy. And you're not afraid of her power. That matters."
She turns back to Moira. "Stop hiding, big sister. Gran didn't give you her power so you could waste it behind inn walls. Be what you're meant to be. The island needs you. He needs you." A mischievous grin that's pure child. "And I expect nieces and nephews eventually. Sea witch babies to spoil."
"Elspeth!" But Moira is laughing through tears.
"Love you. Always did. Always will." Elspeth is fading already. The form growing transparent. Dissolving back into water. "Thank you for saving me. Thank you for letting me go."
Then she's gone. Water and morning light on the pool's surface. The memory of laughter carried on the wind.
Moira sits there, tears streaming, but smiling. Really smiling. The grief isn't gone. But the guilt is. The weight she's carried for eighteen years finally lifted.
I settle beside her. Pull her against me. My shadows curl around her automatically. Protective. Possessive. Loving.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah." She leans into me. Fits perfectly against my side. "I think I finally am."