“I’ll see you soon, girl,” I whisper as I climb down the ladder, the sea air thick with salt and promise.
Kai waits for me on the shore. We walk back toThe Leviathanhand in hand, our steps quiet against the sand. The sun paints the sky in shades of pink, purple, and gold. The perfect sunset.
Up ahead, Neressa leans against a palm tree, watching us. When our eyes meet, she gives a single nod. I return it, a silent promise passing between us. Something tells me this is the last time I will see her for a very long while. The thought plucks a heartstring in my chest. Kai’s hand slides to my back, steadying me as if he can feel the ache in my heart.
It’s time to save his life. To Sirens Cove.
Chapter thirty-six
Kai
Love & Loss
I wake before Mira, as usual. She always sleeps a little longer than me, tucked into the warmth of the sheets. I leave her there and make my way to the kitchen, boil water for a bath, and soak in the quiet that only early mornings can bring. Just the night crew works above, moving like shadows across the deck.
The fog this morning is thick, haunting, like the world has been swallowed whole. I keep a careful eye on the ocean, scanning for any sign of blackened waters. I don’t want the sirens arriving sooner than expected. There’s still one more conversation I need to have before they come for the witch.
Having Mira by my side, selfishly, has been the greatest adventure of my life. One I never want to see end.
I make my way up the stairs to the quarterdeck, taking over for the crewmate who had been steering overnight. Gripping the helm, I turn us toward the coordinates Mira gave. She found them onThe Sirenbut wanted to keep her father’s writing, so she wrote them on a separate piece of parchment. Her handwriting is elegant and fluid, each curve of the cursive like she’s woven beauty into every number. Even something as simple as her writing is stunning.
The ocean stretches out before me, calm yet eerily still, like a predator waiting to strike. There’s something unsettling in the air, an unnatural quiet that claws at my senses. It’s the calm before the storm, that haunting silence where every second feels stretched and heavy, a warning whispered just beneath the surface. But even in that unease, I find solace in one truth: Mira is in our bed, asleep, wrapped in warmth and safety, untouched by whatever darkness looms on the horizon.
I watch as the sun begins to rise, burning away the thick fog that clings to the water, casting the ocean in a brilliant, glossy sheen. The deep blues bleed into rich indigos, shimmering with turquoise as the sun kisses the surface. It feels like the sea is showing off, flaunting her mythical beauty, taunting me with her allure. And as the salty spray mists my face, I’m reminded of my true first love. She never lets me forget her, the sea.
I listen to Mira’s heartbeat echoing softly in my ears, slow and steady. The one thing in my life that I find full comfort in. I sense she’s awake the moment it quickens. Still, I stay at the helm,wanting her to find me on her own, to gather her thoughts in peace.
Whatever waits inside that cove is close. Too close. We arrive ahead of schedule, moving faster than we usually do. We haven’t had to stop once. Part of me suspects Taika is behind it, down in the brig, quietly controlling the sea.
Once Jay wakes and comes to relieve me at the helm, I know it’s time. I need to visit Taika one last time. He approaches with a tired grin, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Morning, Cap’n.”
“Jay,” I nod, stepping aside. “I wanted to thank you.”
He gives me a confused look. “For what?” he asks, brow furrowed. “For protecting her. The crew. Me.”
Jay blinks, caught off guard. “Since when did you get all sentimental on me?”
I smirk but don’t look away. He sobers, the corners of his mouth lifting into something quieter, more loyal. “I’ve always had your back, Cap’n. Since the day I met you. I’m not going anywhere now.”
His words sink deep. I clap him on the shoulder and leave him at the helm, knowing I can trust him with everything I care about.
With that, I step back from the helm, the chill of the morning clinging to my skin as I turn to go below deck. I’ve spent enough quiet moments preparing my words for Taika in my head, but still, there is a heaviness in my chest as I make my way down. I haven’t seen her once since we dragged her from that cursed little hut in the sea. Part of me expects the force that kept her confined there to rise up and try to stop her from leaving. But there’s been no sign of it. Maybe it’s because of Mira. Maybe it trusts her.
Our brig is small. I never saw the point in keeping prisoners. If someone is dangerous enough to lock up, they’re dangerous enough to kill. No use wasting food and supplies on someonemarked for death. But Taika, she’s different. She’s the last part of the map.
I make my way below deck, the instant chill nipping at my skin. A flicker of remorse creeps in, knowing she’s been down here freezing. I placed her in the farthest cell on purpose, away from any wandering ears she might try to manipulate into setting her free.
Taika sits on the wet floor, clothes soaking and clinging to her skin. Mira, ever compassionate, had insisted we give her something fresh to wear, since the rags she arrived in were nearly rotted through. I found a dress deep in the hold, and when I handed it to her, her eyes widened. It was hers from a life long gone, back when she was with my father. The fabric is the color of deep red wine.
She sits cross-legged now, meditating, still and silent. But the moment I step close enough, her eyes open. Black as the void at first, unsettling, bottomless. Then, slowly, they shift into something almost human once her gaze settles on me.
“Finally here to visit me?” Taika asks with an uneasy smile.
I step closer to her cell. “I am.”
The only reason I’m keeping her locked up is for the crew’s sake. I can’t risk her making deals or killing someone in their sleep. If she escapes, whatever magic binds her to her word will kill her, or worse, send her back to that rotting little hut in the sea. If the sirens want her, they’ll surely get their hands on her. Mira and I need her now more than ever.
“So, boy,” she says, rising from where she was meditating, water dripping from her soaking dress, “you must have something to say to me?”
