Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
The drayton sea
nik
The sky over Lucius was absurdly bright, like it was showing off for Sapphire as we soared above the treetops, dipping low whenever birds cut across our path.
She’d spent the past week pushing herself harder than anyone I’d ever trained in the ring at the compound, determined to learn every beat and pull of her wings.
I’d promised her the sea on my next free day. Now, with the wind shifting and the scent of salt drifting faintly ahead of us, I hoped that she could see it was a promise finally being kept.
The morning was perfect—sun-warmed air, clear skies, the breeze ruffling her wings, causing the feathers to glimmer and dance in the light.
If I looked hard enough, on the right angle, they almost flashed silver.
Lucius light will do that to wings, revealing their true colours. Perhaps hers were shifting.
She had grown so much confidence since she let her wings be one with her, and not fight them all the time. My chest clenched with pride whenever I saw her use them. In fact, there have been many things she had done lately that made me want to take her into my arms and spin her around the room.
Each time I had come home from patrol, I’d found her either asleep peacefully on the daybed outside, Wisp curled into her side, or in the kitchen preparing herself food while she hummed a tune.
The other day when I came home, I caught her swaying in the kitchen. Wisp was in her arms, and they’d danced about so freely . . . effortlessly. Of course, I’d left the house again, returning shortly with louder steps so she could run and hide if she felt the need.
Bit by bit, she was easing—not much, but enough that I noticed. Enough that it made something tight in my chest loosen. I just hoped she’d start to feel safe here . . . safe with us. Safe with me.
“We’re almost there,” I called out to her.
She flashed me a grin and it made my heart soar. I’d only heard her laughter out loud twice, but it sounded on repeat in my mind all day. At night, I’d fall asleep to the memory of it, longing for the next time I’d hear it again.
“I didn’t think the sky would be this big. It’s beautiful up here,” she threw over her shoulder before tipping her face towards the warm sun.
The little boy from town the other day was right. She really did look like a star. “You should see it from my perspective.”
A pink blush crept along her delicate throat, and the corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly. My heart swelled at her smile. And each time she did, I committed it to memory.
We were so close to the Drayton Sea that I could taste the salt in the air. The sound of gulls screeched in the distance. The sapphire blue waters stretched ahead, the surface glinting and catching the light in a way that made it look like a sea of diamonds.
I took in a sharp breath at the sight. This was a special moment for her, and I just wanted it to be perfect.
She glanced across to me, tipping her head towards the sand. “Are we landing here?”
I nodded, and we dropped in altitude, watching her carefully as she eased herself lower. She still needed to nail landing smoothly, and we were working on it. With her arms stretched wide for balance, she touched down where the grass met the pale, cream sand.
I folded my wings away as I joined her, but she didn’t pay me much attention . . . I doubted she could look anywhere except the ocean.
Her breath caught. I even heard it above the sea breeze. For a moment she didn’t move, as if afraid that looking away would make the view before her vanish. She looked at it—tears gathering in the corners of her eyes—like it was a gift that she never thought she’d ever receive.
Finally, her gaze found mine, soft and lingering. “Are we—are we allowed to touch the water?” Her voice broke, and something inside me did too. This brave, kind, woman trembled before me, undone by the salty water. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.
“Of course you can,” I smiled at her. “This is your eternity, Sapphire. You can do what you like.”
A tear spilled from the corner of her eye and travelled down her soft cheek. I wanted to reach for it, to brush it away, but I kept my hands tucked by my sides even though everything in me wanted to take her in my arms.
My lips knew what she tasted like and I wanted more.
But it needed to be in her time.
She leaned down and took off her brown flats before she took a small step forward.
Then another. Like the ocean was pulling her.
Dark grey wings curled tightly behind her, nervous, but ready to take her to the skies if needed.
I stayed back, letting her have the moment, letting her take it in slowly.
She kept walking until the first wave washed over her feet, and kissed her ankles. Sea wind tossed her hair, sapphire strands bright against the sun.
I removed my boots, tossing them onto the grass, before rolling up my trousers so I could move to stand beside her. Cool water rushed over my feet, and sand settled between my toes.
There was a place in my heart reserved for bodies of water, being a fisherman and all. It made me happy to know that Sapphire loved the water too.
I glanced over at her. Her eyes shone—wet, wide, unguarded. The tears were still there, but they weren’t born of fear or sadness anymore. They came from somewhere softer . . . from the place where dreams were kept.
Her gaze found mine, and her smile grew. I’d bring her here every day if it meant she’d smile like that forever. “This was the only dream I ever had. I just wanted to see the sea. I thought if I saw it . . . I’d know I was free.”
Her words cut deep, opening the aggravated wound that I held just for Kavish and Rhodes, and any other Shadowkin who’d hurt her. Who’d made her feel less. Who’d told her that freedom came with a price tag.
I kept the words I wanted to spit out locked tight behind my jaw. This was her moment and I wouldn’t let my anger ruin it.
“If you want to walk along the shore, I’m right behind you,” I offered.
She nodded and moved her feet towards the water. She drew in a breath when another wave touched her toes. “It’s colder than I imagined.”
The next wave came in stronger, seafoam rushing higher than the last. Sapphire startled, gasping as it surged around her calves and then she laughed.
The sound caught us both off guard, and I couldn’t help laughing alongside her.
Before she could steady herself, the water shifted beneath her feet and she stumbled back. Instinct kicked in—I caught her by the waist, the impact of the wave knocking us together as the sea rushed past.
She was warm. Soft. Alive. It took everything in me not to cup the back of her neck and draw her lips to mine as heat ripped through my blood from her nearness.
“I’m sorry—” I started, beginning to release her with ease.
But I stopped when she shook her head quickly, breathless, fingers still curled in the fabric of my shirt, keeping me close.
“Don’t be,” she murmured, blue eyes searching mine.
Another wave rolled in, gentler this time. She didn’t let go. Instead, she tugged me a step further into the water, expression bright now, as something playful flickered there.
A warm and unfamiliar feeling loosened in my chest when she took another step back, pulling me along. My brow rose and I smiled. “Don’t you dare.”
She splashed me then—a small, impulsive flick of water that soaked the front of my shirt.
Her eyes widened immediately, and her mouth formed the biggest grin I’d ever seen grace her beautiful face. “Oops . . .”
I stared at her for a beat, then bent and sent a wave right back at her.
She squealed, laughing again before dashing away.
“Oh no you don’t,” I called, already moving.
She glanced over her shoulder once, eyes bright and daring, before leaping over an incoming wave. Water sprayed high, catching the light, and she laughed harder when I stumbled through it after her.
I grinned. “You just wait.”
She jumped another wave, skirts hitched in her hands, hair already wild and darkened by salt. The ocean lapped at her calves now, foam curling around her ankles as she turned just long enough to flash me a triumphant smile.
Then I caught her.
My arms wrapped around her waist from behind as another wave rushed in, stealing her balance and sending us both laughing.
She gasped, spinning around as I pulled her up and against my chest. The world narrowed to the rush of water, the salty air, and the way her damp dress clung to every curve I tried very hard not to notice beneath my touch.
She trembled in my arms, breathless with laughter, her hair salt-kissed and tangled, skin flushed from the cold and the chase. For a heartbeat, everything dimmed . . . the noise, the world, the distance she so often kept between us.
By the stars.
She was beautiful.
I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe, and gently set her back on her feet before the moment tipped into something neither of us was ready for. My hands lingered on the gentle curve of her waist for half a second too long before I stepped back.
Her laughter softened, her smile still there, but quieter now.
And I realised, with a slow, aching certainty, that inch by inch, the walls she’d built to protect herself were crumbling.
It was the most glorious sight I’d ever seen.
Time slipped by unnoticed. We took our time wandering the shores where the waves spilled over the sand and gulls echoed overhead. Sapphire stopped, her gaze locked on the horizon as her hair whipped around her face.
I kept my distance, giving her space to think and feel all the thoughts and emotions that I figured she’d have. I’d give her all the time in the world if she asked for it.
The sound hit me softly—barely at first. A few notes carried on her breath. It was a fragile, shy thing. I turned my head, straining to hear her better. She was humming that same tune from Abby’s place.
As if my feet had a mind of their own, they carried me towards her. “What’s that song?” I asked softly.