Page 87 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

Eventually, she appears, rounding the corner from her cleansing chamber.

Water drips down every line of her body, gleaming under the crystal light. She’s wrapped in a thin sponge cloth, meant to draw the water from her skin. Useless beneath the sea, but necessary here in the dry air of her chambers. She moves easily, unaware of me, and partially unwraps the cloth.

“You should take a sweep of your surroundings before exposing yourself so freely.” My voice breaks the stillness, and a knowing smirk tugs at my mouth.

Sarah freezes, crimson flooding her cheeks as she yanks the cloth tight around her body.

“Orion! You’re back.” Her voice holds genuine surprise. There's no anger in it, despite what I almost witnessed.

“I am. I apologize for my delay in returning.”

My eyes wander over the room, catching details I overlooked at first. The bed is unmade because she's been sleeping in it. The trinkets scattered about are things she has collected since arriving in Virellan. Even her daggers—in desperate need of a polish—rest in neat alignment on the dresser, not the careless placement I assumed at first glance.

“Have you been staying here in the palace rather than Drekaris?”

“I've still been training, if that's your concern.”

She grabs a small garment, likely one of the original pieces Nyx gave her upon her arrival, and disappears back into her cleansing chamber. Her voice drifts out from within. “I travel with Nyxalene each day to Drekaris for my training, and every night she returns to escort me to the palace. I knew you would be gone for a few days, but when a few turned into several, then weeks, I began to get concerned . . .” Her voice falters, the sentence left hanging.

She's been worried about me? The same woman who refuses to admit we are sea mates?

“Anyway,” she continues, her tone shifting. “I have completed all my duels—passed every one. Defymin and I have worked closely to sharpen my combat technique, and Nyxalene has been helping me refine my magic in your absence. I told her that if you didn't return by the twentieth sea day, I wanted to go home. But I’m glad I decided to wait here for you; it felt like the right thing to do.”

She waited for me. Not out of duty and not because she owed me anything. I don't know what I've done to deserve that kind of faith, but it anchors me more than any chain ever could. Another reason—I suppose—to add to the growing list of things I like about her.

When she reemerges, now properly dressed, my gaze finds hers instantly. There's a faint glimmer in her eyes, something soft and unguarded. Then, before I can respond to her words, a single tear slips down her cheek. I rise without hesitation and close the distance between us.

My hand lifts, fingers grazing lightly beneath her chin, coaxing her face toward mine. “You know,” I murmur, “your beauty shines even more when your tears cleanse your face.”

Everything Sarah does has a way of catching me off guard—and I always find myself expecting greatness from her.

I get lost in her eyes, the gloss of tears prominent along their edges. Her arrival in Virellan was supposed to be temporary. Her powers were meant to be relinquished, and she was meant to return home. But now, that bridge is one I know I will never have to cross. She belongs here. In Virellan. With me.

I can’t explain the feeling that unfurls within my chest. The heartbeat is mine, but the pull is ours. Our connection. The very tether I have spent so long trying to understand. But what if I don’t need to understand it? What if the whole point is to accept it? Without fear. Without hesitation.

My hand slips from beneath her chin, gliding along the side of her neck. I take one deliberate step forward, until only inches separate us. Her breath brushes against my chest, warm and unsteady, and electricity races through every nerve in my body.

I have no idea what I am doing, but the bond does. It pulls. I follow.

She remains utterly still before me, tears continuing to trace silent paths down her cheeks.

“Orion . . . I don’t think—”

“Shh, Snapdragon.” My voice is barely more than a whisper. “Don’t think about anything. Just breathe.”

The words are meant as encouragement. A way to ease her fear. To help her trust what Mother Ocean has granted us. But my own moxie is abandoning me. I cannot stand here another moment fighting something that has already chosen us. So I lean closer and kiss her.

The instant our lips meet, everything inside me goes still. Her warmth floods through me, startling in its intensity. It is not merely the sensation of her lips against mine. It is something deeper—something ancient and instinctive, as though some dormant part of me has finally awakened.

Then I feel it.

Click.

Not a sound, but a certainty. Like the final piece of my heart is sliding into place.

The bond I have spent months questioning, resisting, and dissecting into parts I could comprehend—it suddenly makes sense. I have been searching for the missing piece when it has been standing in front of me since the day I entered her home, claiming she must come to Virellan.

The realization tears through me so fiercely that I nearly forget to breathe. My lips move against hers with a tenderness I did not know I possessed, as though some part of me is terrified that if I pull away, the revelation will disappear with her.