Then, softer—
“I pushed you away because I didn’t trust myself not to ruin you.” My eyes dropped. “All I wanted was for you to have a life untouched by my shadows.”
She didn’t push. Didn’t fight. Her hand stayed in mine—fragile, warm—and for one breath of time, I let myself believe it was enough. Even if I could never give her calm. Even if I could never be the light she deserved. I could be the shadow at her side. The one that did not falter. Did not leave.
No matter how rough the tide turned.
56
Nerina
At Sea, Somewhere near the Veil
The sea was not the same. Where the Veil had once shimmered—bright as dawn, impenetrable as law—there was only open water now. No glow. No hum. No invisible wall of protection. Just endless waves. And the black shapes of ships. Hundreds of them.
Poachers of every breed crowded the horizon like carrion birds over a carcass—sleek cutters with crimson sails, fat-bellied slavers patched with rust, fishing boats rigged with nets lined in silver. All drawn to the same promise:
Thalassia laid bare. Prey.
Stars, we were hopelessly outnumbered. My stomach twisted. This was what I’d feared—not as a distant possibility whispered in councils, but as a living thing. A swarm. A hunger.
I had left Thalassia to find myself. I had never truly pictured what returning would look like.
It wasn't this.
I pressed a hand to the bandages at my wrists. The burns still pulsed beneath—tender, raw in places, angry with every movement—but the worst of the Silver Salt’s silence had faded. The air no longer scraped like a broken shell through my lungs. The throb had dulled to something I could bear. I was still weak. Too weak for what I was about to do. But there was no time to wait.
The Covenant ships and the Black Marrow dropped anchors, hulls rocking steady in the swell. Beneath us lay the place where the Veil had once shimmered. Somewhere in the dark water below—The shards of the Crescent waited.
I slipped my fingers beneath the seams of the torn clothing scavenged from one of the ships. A hush fell over the deck. Some of the crew shifted and looked away in rough respect. Others didn’t.
Alaric stepped forward—he’d been braced for this moment, waiting for the smallest excuse to put himself between me and the world. Without a word, he shrugged off his long coat and wrapped it around my shoulders, blocking the weight of a hundred eyes. Heavy leather. Salt and iron. Him. His storm-gray gaze swept the deck, daring anyone to keep looking.
“You’re not ready,” he said, low and edged. “You’ll barely last a breath down there, let alone long enough to find the shards.”
I lifted my chin and met his eyes. “I don’t have a choice,” I said, steadier than I felt. “If I don’t dive, they’re lost—and with them, any chance of saving Thalassia.”
His jaw clenched. “Then let someone else go. My men. His men. Anyone but you—”
“What makes their lives any less valuable than mine?” I cut in, heat flaring in my chest. “The shards are part of me. I have to be the one to find them.”
He stared at me—storm and fire colliding—and for a heartbeat I truly thought he might drag me back by force.
I would fight him. With whatever strength I had left. I think he knew that.
I stepped onto the rail. Alaric’s coat slid from my shoulders as the wind bit down to the bone. Below, the water churned—dark and endless.
“What’s the plan?” someone called behind me. I couldn’t tell if it was Alaric or Veyrion.
A raw laugh bubbled out of my throat. “I don’t know.”
And before either of them could stop me, I tipped forward—
—and plunged into the sea.
Cold hit like a thousand knives, driving the air from my lungs. Then the ocean rushed to meet me.
Cradling. Collecting. The salt burned—yes—but beneath it was something older and familiar, a recognition that ran deeper than pain.
