Chapter 28
Edith had expected violence, maybe some struggling, a touch of magic and maybe even a dramatic chase through the park.
Instead, everything happened calmly, which somehow made it worse.
Mark stood beside her as they walked down toward the harbour before dawn, one hand lightly gripping her upper arm, not tight enough to bruise, not rough enough to draw attention.
Just firm and controlled like she was already contained, and Edith hated him for that. Hated the casual ease in his posture. Hated the fact he wouldn’t look her directly in the eye anymore.
But most of all, she hated herself for trusting his brother. The silver cuffs around her wrists burned faintly against her skin. Not physically but magically, suppressing her abilities. Gerald had placed them on her himself before they’d left the park.
He had done it gently, and that had somehow been the most horrifying part.
“Behave,” he’d murmured as the silver clicked shut around her wrists. “You’ll only make things harder for yourself otherwise.”
Edith had tried to wrench away immediately. But the magic in the cuffs had surged, sharp and cold through her veins, forcing the shift beneath her skin back down violently.
Gerald had simply smiled. “There now,” he’d said softly. “That’s better.”
Edith wanted to set him on fire, it wouldn’t have taken much, just a snort in his direction and she could have made him light up like a bonfire. Unfortunately, the cuffs made that difficult.
The harbour was quiet when they arrived, dawn still barely touching the horizon. Mist curled low across the docks while old fishing boats rocked gently against weathered wood.
A ghost pirate waited beside one of them. Translucent and bearded as well as aggressively uninterested in morality. “Mainland crossing costs extra at this hour,” the pirate grumbled.
Gerald handed him a heavy pouch without argument. He weighed it in his hand and the coins clinked loudly.
“There’s half,” Gerald said smoothly. “The rest when we arrive at the dock.”
The pirate weighed the pouch in his spectral hand. “Pleasure doin’ business.”
Edith stared at him in disbelief. “You’re taking bribes to help kidnap people?”
The ghost pirate shrugged. “I’m dead, sweetheart. Ethics stopped bein’ my problem in 1723.”
“Fantastic,” Edith muttered. “Love that for me.”
Mark climbed onto the boat first. Gerald guided Edith after him with one hand lightly against her back. She considered elbowing him directly into the sea… strongly.
The only thing stopping her was the very real possibility he’d simply drag her down with him.
Once aboard, Mark tied a rope loosely around the silver cuffs and secured her to the railing with practiced efficiency. Again, he did it calmly, with no sense of urgency or panic. Acting as if this were entirely normal.
As if she weren’t a terrified woman being dragged back toward the life she had fled.
Edith glared murderously at him the entire time, and Mark avoided her eyes completely.
Coward.
“You could at least look guilty,” she snapped.
Mark’s jaw tightened faintly.
“You’ll survive this.”
Edith laughed harshly. “That’s what you’re telling yourself?”
Silence filled the boat. It rocked gently as the ghost pirate shoved away from the dock.
The mainland waited somewhere beyond the dark waters, it felt far too close already.
Gerald settled himself against the opposite railing like this was a leisurely morning excursion rather than an abduction. “Honestly,” he sighed pleasantly, “I expected considerably more screaming.”
“Would you prefer screaming?” Edith asked sweetly. “I can absolutely start.”
Gerald chuckled softly. Gods, she hated that sound, it grated on her nerves, worse than the buoys snoring.
“You’ve changed,” he observed, studying her carefully. “More confident than I remember.”
“I’d rather drown than marry you,” Edith replied flatly.
Gerald’s smile didn’t fade. “That attitude will fade once we’re home.”
The words curled coldly through her stomach. That was never her home. Gerald moved closer slowly, crouching slightly in front of where she sat tied to the railing.
Edith pressed herself backward instinctively. His gold eyes gleamed faintly in the growing dawn light, almost predatory, as his fingers brushed lightly along her jaw.
Edith froze in disgust.
“Still beautiful though,” he murmured.
Every muscle in her body tightened. “Don’t touch me.”
Gerald ignored that completely. His thumb traced lightly against her cheek, studying her with detached satisfaction.
“I’ll admit,” he said thoughtfully, “I was uncertain whether years hiding in some seaside town would ruin you.”
Edith’s stomach twisted violently.
“But this?” His gaze moved slowly over her. “No. This works nicely.”
Pure revulsion crawled through her. “You’re disgusting.”
Gerald smiled wider. “And yet,” he said softly, “you’ll still be my wife.”
Edith’s nails dug into her palms. The silver cuffs bit into her skin as magic flared instinctively beneath it.
Gerald noticed. His expression warmed slightly. “Good,” he murmured. “Fight a little. I always did prefer spirit.”
Edith nearly lunged at him. Mark stepped forward instantly. “Enough,” he said sharply.
Gerald glanced back lazily. “She’s fine.”
“She’s restrained.”
“She’s dramatic.”
Edith bared her teeth at both of them. Because honestly? At this point, she hated them equally.
Mark for betraying his brother. Gerald for existing and being a slimeball. She imagined punting Mark directly over the railing, and the mental image brought her immense comfort. Especially if she got to hear the splash.
The boat drifted further from Krakens Hole, slowly, the town shrinking behind them beneath the pale morning sky. Edith stared back at it desperately. At the cliffs, at the harbour, and the home she had finally found. Her chest ached painfully.
Because somewhere back there, Jessica would wake up and be worrying, Binky would panic.
The witches would absolutely start setting things on fire. And Spencer… the thought hit hardest of all. Had he known? Had he helped? Or had Mark acted alone?
Edith swallowed hard against the sudden tightness in her throat. Because the answer mattered far more than she wanted it to. Gerald rose smoothly to his feet again, adjusting his coat as the wind curled around the boat.
“You should prepare yourself,” he said casually. “The wedding will likely happen immediately once we arrive.”
Edith looked up at him slowly, then smiled, sharp and dangerous. “Oh,” she said softly. “One of us is absolutely going overboard before that happens.”
For the first time, Gerald’s smile slipped slightly.