But I shook my head abruptly, desperately, as if I could cast off his words with that single, defiant motion.
“No.You will never see him again,” I said, each word forged in steel, my voice hard with finality—even as my heart screamed in protest, tearing itself apart.“I won’t allow it.”
His eyes flickered with pain, with something more—but I didn’t waver.
I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t let Roman be dragged back into this world—a world of war, prophecy, and burdens carried across lifetimes.I wouldn’t let the legacy of time-traveling bloodlines and dark destinies shackle him.He was innocent.Pure.And he would stay that way.
His gift… his fate… I would bury it all.
He would grow up free, untouched by the shadows that had shaped my life.And if it took ruthlessness to keep him safe, I would become whatever I needed to be.
A mother.A shield.A storm.
Dancing Fire met my gaze—steadfast, unflinching, a warrior to the end.“I hid the dagger,” he said, quiet but laced with meaning.“As you asked.It’s gone from sight—but not from the world.”
That dagger—the mark of Roman’s Timeborne blood—a weapon I could not bear to hold yet could never truly destroy.A reminder that his power still lingered, silent, waiting.
“But remember this, Elizabeth—you can’t stop destiny.”
His words hung between us like a fog rolling over the plains—dense, cold, foreboding.A promise.A warning.
I said nothing.What could I say?
With a silent nod, I took Roman back into my arms, his small form curling against me as if he, too, felt the finality in the air.
And I turned away—from the man who had shown me kindness, from the land that had given me both life and death, from the world I no longer belonged to.
I didn’t look back.
I couldn’t.
* * *
The wind howled through the harbor, tugging at my shawl as I clutched it tightly around my shoulders.My fingers trembled—not from the cold, but from the desperation coiled in my chest like a serpent.Before me, the ship loomed, massive and imposing, its sails creaking against taut ropes, the timbers groaning like a beast at rest.
At the gangplank stood the captain, a weathered man with a salt-and-pepper beard and eyes like flint, barking orders in a voice that cut through the chaos.He moved with purpose, authority clinging to him like a second skin.
I stepped onto the slick wooden dock, Roman shifting against my chest, nestled securely in the satchel bound tight to my body.My deerskin moccasins sank slightly into the damp boards, but I kept my footing, the weight of him grounding me, propelling me forward.
The town’s eyes followed me—curious and wary.I was dressed in traditional Native attire, a suede dress adorned with intricate beadwork and fringe, the wind tugging at the hem as I walked.Their stares cut, but I had no time for them.I only hoped it wouldn’t deter the crew from giving me a chance.
My heart thundered as I neared the ship, the rehearsed plea tumbling through my mind one last time.Then, drawing in a breath that tasted of salt and fear, I stepped forward.
“Captain.”My voice rang out, firm despite the knot twisting my stomach.
He turned, eyes narrowing as they swept over me—calculating, indifferent.It was the kind of look a man gave when he’d seen desperation a hundred times before and learned to ignore it.
“State your business, miss,” he snapped.“I’ve no time for idle chatter.”
I lifted my chin, willing my voice not to waver.“I seek passage to England.I have no money, but I offer my skills in return.”
His brow arched, skepticism etched deep into his face.“Skills?And what might those be?I do not need fancy needlework or songs to entertain my crew.”
I squared my shoulders, clutching Roman protectively.“I’m a healer, Captain.I’ve treated fevers, stitched wounds, and eased pain with herbs and remedies.Surely, aboard a ship full of men, you’ll need someone to keep them alive and fit for the journey.”
The wind howled through the harbor, cold and unrelenting, tugging at my shawl as I clutched it tightly around my shoulders.His head tilted, arms folding across his chest as he regarded me with measured doubt.“A healer, you say?”His gaze flicked to the bundle at my chest, then back to me.“And how do I know you’re not all talk?”
