A distant thud made me jump, and I looked over my shoulder into the hall. Had Gavin returned? I strained to listen, picking up the sound of soft footsteps. Taking the lantern, I slipped out of the kitchen and followed the faint noise.
The steps were too light to be Gavin’s. Besides, he had no reason to sneak around his own house. A ghost, maybe? That, I would believe. As a child, I used to think our house was haunted, though my father assured me it wasn’t. He said the doors that closed on their own, the creaks and thuds in the night, were just ocean magic drifting in on a salty breeze,infusing the beams with its essence.
Knowing more about our family history and its connection to the sea made me realize how true that was. This wasn’t just a house. It was an entity with a soul of its own, immersed in otherworldly enchantment.
And it led me straight to a pair of arched double doors, the ones with cresting waves etched into the wood. The same doors I’d stopped in front of before Annie, Gavin’s niece, had caught me snooping that first day.
The doors were still locked. I pressed my ear to the panel, the same way you press a shell to your ear to hear the ocean.
Silence.
I held my breath as if I expected the house to speak. To whisper something from the other side of the door. But the silence was steady. The house held its breath with me.
Just as I leaned back, a floorboard creaked behind me.
I whirled.
The lantern’s light sputtered, shadows flickering down the hall. But there was no one there.
Wow.I needed sleep.
I was running on fumes and doubt. A fatal combination when it came to my upcoming hunt. And here I was personifying a house, hoping it would share its secrets. With a mocking shake of my head, I gathered all the gear and hauled everything out onto the terrace.
It was after ten o’clock. Gavin still hadn’t returned. I paced the tiles, stopping after a few strides to unroll my bedding near the iron rail. The weather was warm, and the salt air and distant crash of the waves were soothing. I planned to get a few hours of sleep under the stars before I made my move.
Climbing the vine in the dark would be difficult, but I’dprepared for that. The magic-infused light I’d purchased would illuminate my way and keep my hands free. The climb itself should only take two days, with a few hours of rest during the night.
Cass had explained the vine’s magic. How time flowed differently between our kingdom and the sky realm, and how the vine helped its climbers, stretching and shifting beneath them, carrying them higher with ease.
Not that it would be easy. My muscles still ached from years in the underwater mines. And my body was weaker than it used to be. I was getting stronger every day, but the climb would take its toll. I’d be lucky if I didn’t need to sleep for a week once I’d made it to the top.
The appeal of a partner suddenly had a nice ring to it. But I’d be fine on my own. I’d relied on myself for years. I could do it again.
My gear was packed and ready. The shackles were stored out of sight. The key was hidden on the front porch for Cass to find.
All I had to do now was wait.
Leaning my elbows on the iron railing, I faced the sea and tipped my head back to catch the moonlight. I kicked off my boots, letting my feet rest against the cool stone. My hair tangled in the breeze, the rich blue strands, marking my curse, sticking to the side of my face.
Something in the air shifted. A faint shuffle of boots. The weight of someone’s stare.
Awareness tingled over my skin.
I turned toward the house, expecting another one of its magic shadows. But it was Gavin, leaning in the terrace doorway, watching me. He stood mostly in shadow, just outside theflickering torchlight along the rail. Dressed in black—tunic, breeches, boots. He could have been a silhouette, except for the light in his eyes.
Neither of us spoke. And it was the strangest moment. Silent and charged. Like the air right before a thunderstorm. I was sure if I moved, I’d feel the current strike the air around me.
He stepped onto the terrace, his features catching the torchlight, and I sucked in a sharp breath. A gash cut across his right temple, the wound darkening around the edges. I pushed off the rail before I knew what I was doing, bare feet slapping against the tile.
“What happened? Were you in a fight?” I stopped in front of him. My hand lifted toward his face, fingers curling before they made contact. A low sound slipped from my lips. “You’re bleeding.”
He said nothing. Just watched me. But his chest rose and fell, each breath stronger, more ragged the longer he stared down at me. My hand still hovered uselessly in the air. Then Gavin moved. His fingers closed over my wrist just like in the alcove. But this time, he tugged.
I stumbled forward, eyes flaring as he let go, only to gather me in his arms and pull me against him.
“What are you doing?”
“Holding you.”
