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I stared at the village with its plumes of smoke rising from chimneys. Somewhere in the shadows between the cottages was Graham.
Cait and Lachlan gestured for me to go on.
I forced my feet to move and jumped, splashing into the waist-high tide. My ears buzzed with the noise of my thoughts. The scar on my side throbbed at the memory of this place and its pain. I trudged forward through the blue water as if my body acted on its own and I was a helpless passenger.
I reached the shore and kept walking. The beats of my heart pounded into a clamor. My mind couldn’t form a thought. But my eyes searched as if the whole world depended on finding just one person.
I ventured between the first cottages. A few islanders milled about, and I looked at them only long enough to confirm that they weren’t Graham. Someone tried to speak to me, but my ears didn’t absorb the sound. In my periphery, I could tell they stared, but I continued on.
I hurried faster, my heart and my breath the only sounds I could hear, until I stood in the place I’d last met eyes with Graham Brennin. I searched the ground, desperate to find him and his prison.
My heart thumped in fear and denial. I turned in disoriented circles, searching, silently pleading, but the pit was gone.
Chapter
Three
My breath quickenedas I paced over the dirt, wondering if I’d come to the wrong spot. I tried to convince myself I’d been confused in my former delirium, but I knew this was exactly where he should’ve been.
My heartbeat rose into a cacophony, and I dropped to my knees in the dirt, breathing to stave off the panic.
Soft footsteps pattered on the ground behind me.
I looked up to see a few wary villagers approaching.
“Where is he?” I asked. “Did you . . . kill him?” My voice came out so weak that I wasn't sure if they heard me.
After a pause, an older man lifted his arm and pointed behind me.
My head spun around.
A lone figure stood on the shore, dark-haired, straight-backed, and perfectly still, watching me from a distance.
My heart kept up its desperate pace as I jumped to my feet and ran toward him, leaving the grass for the sand he stood on. As his silhouette turned from shadow into color, my world began to heal, coming together in a moment I’d fixated on for weeks.
My feet came to a stop on the beach right in front of him.
My eyes took him all in.
He dropped the bundle of wood he’d been holding and took a single step back. His sharp gaze pierced into mine and his eyebrows furrowed. The shadow on his jaw had grown dark and his hair curled at his ears, but it was Graham—alive and free of his pit.
“Graham?” I said, desperate to hear his voice, to prove my eyes weren’t deceiving me. My thoughts were bursting with everything I wanted to say, but it couldn’t come out fast enough. When I opened my mouth to speak the words I hoped would heal the wound between us, they halted in my throat.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice hard.
My hope faltered. I’d known he would be furious at me. Of course, I knew. I wouldn’t have forgiven my betrayal if I were in his place. In truth, I hadn’t forgiven myself. But somehow, in some idiotic way, I’d convinced myself he would.
There was no hint of joy on his face. “Is my father dead?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
His glare never left my face. “Then why aren’t you on the throne?”
“I . . .” My words refused to come. “Graham, the throne isn’t what I want.” I stepped closer to him, the breath between us a storm of what I couldn’t bring myself to say. But he had to feel my remorse. He had to know my sorrow. The tension hung in the air, so heavy I could almost taste it.
Without thinking, I reached for him.
His hand whipped forward, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t.”
