Chapter 46
Roderick Bryson
The creaking reverb of the Lupus Star stirred Roderick from the depths of his slumber.
His cabin no longer seemed cold and isolated like it had the month prior, and it would never be that way again.
He would invite Anya to stay here the rest of the voyage and fall asleep in his arms every night.
Even if she wanted more time to tell the crew about their relationship, just knowing she was his sated his heart.
When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the shiplap wall of the cabin. Flipping over, he squinted away the sunlight and pawed for Anya, frowning when he found nothing except the slight impression of where she had laid.
Cold.
He blinked to adjust to the rays streaming through the porthole. His eyes focused on a folded piece of parchment on the nightstand.
Roderick,
By now you have discovered that I am gone, and you are past the Gates of Hav. The Winter Prince has reinforced the glacial wall and its enchantments. There is no way back.
Valeria and your future await.
You are with your pack where you belong, and I am fulfilling my duty to the people of Valeria. I entrust Lady Rowan’s safety to you and Sir Oshfeldt. Please see her back to Eteross. She is more dear to me than a sister.
The chests of mana stones were enchanted to open the moment the Lupus Star passed through the Gates.
If you are angry with me for disappearing, so be it. If cursing my name eases your pain, I welcome it. But I had no choice. I knew if I told you my plan, you would have convinced me otherwise, and I fear I would have stalled the inevitable for far too long in order to savor another minute with you.
But the children must come before me.
If you have not yet hurled this letter into the sea, know that I love you. Had I told you my plan you would have stayed, and I could not have you living in the shadows of Solenergi, waiting to catch a glimpse of me while I am bound and married to another to fulfill the deal.
That is no life for you, my love. I want more for you. I pray that you fight your demons with the same spirit you showed me that night in Traansa. I want you to live with fervor, love freely, and know that trusting you with my heart was the best decision I ever made.
And remember,
You will always be my mate.
Anya
Roderick’s pulse pounded into his head as he sank to his knees. The parchment shook in his hands. His eyes began to burn with tears as the realization hit him.
She traded herself.
She traded herself like a damned sheaf of wheat.
And now she was gone, trapped in the most hellish possible life for a wanderlust heart like hers. Every word of her letter repeated in his mind, weighing on him more and more until he doubled over in a useless attempt to fill the gaping hole in his chest.
“Anya,” he keened, “Anya…”
Her sweet scent still clung to his body. Her dried tears from last night left a trail on his chest—tears he now realized were not from overwhelming joy, but sorrow.
She never loved you, the voices hissed, seeping between the boards around him.
How could she?
What are you, compared to a prince?
Gut-wrenching visions of Anya being chained to the Winter Prince flooded his mind. What misery she was ready to endure, what heartbreak and pain, all out of love for her people.
He clenched the letter in his fist and sprinted up the steps to the main deck, bursting into the cool dawn air so heavy with mist he couldn’t see a foot beyond the baluster.
Rod? Yomira grumbled sleepily. The stern creaked and dipped as the wyvern stood, joints crackling.
Isen was nowhere to be found. Anya had been so determined to do this, she’d flown away on a dragon she hardly knew.
Roderick’s mind clung to every detail of her.
How scared she must have been, up in the sky without him to hold fast to?
No.
He’d been the one holding onto her, even as she shook with fear. Somehow, down in the depths of his heart, he’d known his time with her was fleeting. But he never thought she would vanish like morning dew, or a sailor’s mirage.
“She’s gone. She’s gone,” he said shakily.
Tears pressed at the backs of his eyes. They were past the Gates of Hav, far beyond the glacial wall and its enchantments.
Anya had thought of everything, anticipated his every move like the strategist she was.
But even now, he fought the urge to dive into the sea and try to swim back.
Rod? Yomira prodded him with her warm snout.
When he didn’t reply, Yomira simply curled around him and let him cry.
Though the wyvern did her best to block out the tortures in his head with a gentle rumble, they still broke through.
Anya being forced to mate with the Prince, to bear his royal heirs, her beautiful mind suffocated and her adventurous paws bound day after day until she became a shell of her true self.
It made him sick.
One by one, the crew awoke around him, filtering topside from the belly of the ship: Ornella rubbing her head with her children each holding a hand. Octavio carrying a very disoriented Lady Rowan, Bernard and Annette wiping magical slumber from their eyes while Olivia whined softly.
Gail’s voice carried from below, “What in the damn hells happened? Ah’ got sailor’s breath for days!”
Roderick watched as Captain Verden followed Ornella up to the stern. It took Ornella a moment to notice him concealed in the circle of Yomira’s tail, much like the way he’d hidden in the curtain of his mother’s hair as a child. But the world still found him.
It always did.
“Roderick!” Ornella exclaimed. “You are alive!” She hoisted him to his feet in a powerful Lycanian hug, then pulled back and surveyed him head to toe in a motherly manner. She squeezed his shoulders, his arms, and counted his fingers until she was satisfied he wasn’t missing any pieces.
Terror fell onto Ornella’s normally calm face as she whirled her head, surveying the deck. “Where is Her Highness?”
The reality of Ornella noticing Anya’s absence made the pit crack like a canyon. A part of him was still clinging to the hope that this was just a nightmare, and she was still wrapped in his arms—but the crunch of the parchment in his hand proved otherwise.
He silently handed the note to Ornella. Her golden eyes flicked back and forth, reading in a frenzy.
“Mother Moon,” Ornella said, horrified. Sudden fire lit in her eyes. She whipped to Captain Verden. “Captain! Turn this ship around!”
Roderick couldn’t even bring himself to tell her it was useless.
The captain tried to wrestle the helm, but it stayed firmly fixed in its course.
“No can do, Ornella! We’ve got a ghost sailin’ her!”
“It’s no ghost, Captain,” Roderick said. Defeat marred his tone. “It’s kelpie.”
“KELPIE?” The captain’s bushy brows and beard shot up. He darted over to the baluster, leaning dangerously far to catch a glimpse of the seaweedy creatures. “Great guppies above, they’re real! I told you! I told you I saw ‘em, Ornella!”
Roderick hadn’t considered the rarity of kelpie, especially after his time in Aquillas. He’d been in a magical storm, met two Lycanians who could shift, talking Kobolds, and a thriving kingdom he’d once thought an icy wasteland. Nothing surprised him anymore.
Ornella went to peer over the edge as well. “So you did,” she said. “But why are they pulling us?”
The rest of the crew gathered around as Roderick told them everything that happened since the storm. Octavio sat beside him with Lady Rowan, who sobbed uncontrollably as she read the letter. Having them near to share in his sorrows helped, if only a little.
“M-maybe she has a plan,” Annette said, wiping tears on her sleeve.
Bernard shook his head. “I don’t want to be the negative voice here, but if there was any other way to help the children, I think she would’ve done it already.”
“Now, Bernard,” Annette scolded.
“No,” Roderick said. “Bernard is right. We tried everything. We thought we found a lead in a mage tower tome, but it was just a dead end.” He buried his face in his hands. “Now she’s being bound and married to the Prince to fulfill the deal they made.”
Annette crouched beside him, prodding his shoulder. “A deal? As in, a magical deal?”
“I’m not sure about magical,” he said, wiping his eyes in a fruitless attempt to restore his composure.
“Mother Moon,” Bernard breathed. “Annette, do you think—”
“It’s a gesh,” she finished. “A magical, binding deal. And I know first-hand that they can be broken in…let’s say ‘creative’ ways.” She and Bernard both looked at Captain Verden, who was still staring down at the kelpie.
“What? How? I thought you said the captain paid to fulfill it.” A foolish flicker of hope sparked in his chest until he remembered they were already past the Gates.
Annette rubbed her wrist, looking up at her husband.
“In a way, he fulfilled it. But not in the way my father wanted.” She waved a hand.
“That’s a long story, and every gesh is different.
The point is, Her Highness is a strategist, right?
If it is a gesh, I’m sure she’ll find a way to break it and return to you.
A technicality, maybe a double meaning. Something the Prince didn’t account for. ”
“She’ll need a damn miracle.” Roderick sighed. The tone of Anya’s letter wasn’t that of a scheming strategist. It was a goodbye through and through.
A horn blared ahead of them, sending a stun through Roderick’s body.
The kelpie brayed, and the ship lurched to top knots.
A sliver of sunlight cut through the thick mist as two towering bronze gates creaked open, gears grinding and creaking with every inch, revealing the shimmering sea on the other side of the bottleneck.
A stone tower jutted out of the rocky side of the fjord.
The stun quickly turned into a rush of adrenaline. These had to be the Gates of Hav. It wasn’t too late. He worried about the gesh and the mana stones for split second but quickly remembered Anya’s letter. It said the chests would open when the ship passed through the Gates.