The only thing that I can think to do is tilt my head back and welcome his soft lips on mine. Our kiss is bruising. He groans against me, and I eagerly part my mouth. His tongue sweeps inside, laying claim to me one final time. I surrender to him and this moment. He takes my mouth roughly, and I love it.
It is far too brief, but when we part at last, I can only stare up into his burning gaze. He is breathing raggedly just like me. I’ve said everything I cannot form into words in that kiss. If heasked me to stay again right now, I would say yes—brokenheart be damned.
Qurill remains silent as we stare at each other. With one thick swallow, I take a step back from him, missing his warmth immediately.
“Goodbye, Qurill.”
My voice is a broken whisper. I don’t want to let him see me cry. I turn quickly, nearly sliding in the sand. The walk along the beach is a tough battle. By the time I pause to catch my breath, I’ve barely started up the incline. I know it is foolish to do so, but I can’t help myself.
There is a cracking pain in my chest as I stare at the beach. It’s as empty as when we arrived. Qurill is gone, as is his boat. The only trace of him is the footprints in the sand that will soon be washed away by the tide.
Alone, I can finally crumble. A painful sob leaves my chest as my knees threaten to buckle. Each step feels like I’m walking through thick oatmeal. The top of the hill seems a thousand miles away. Agony slows my assent.
What’s the point in any of this? All my life, I’ve been fighting so hard for something I don’t even want. I’ve let fear control me. Those initial days of being alone made me retreat into myself. I’ve been too scared to live—to be selfish and claim the things that I want. I’m doing it again with Qurill now. The love of my lifetime just left me on the beach because I was too much of a coward to tell him I loved him.
I scream in frustration. Regret is a physical pain. Why did I let him leave? I may never see him again. How could I let him get away without telling him the truth? I owed it to both of us to say how I was feeling. So what if his devotion to me wanes? I need more time with him.
At least one more night.
Before I even realize it, I’m stumbling back down the hill at full speed. He told me I’d never find another to satisfy me, and he was right. I’ll never give another my body as I gave to him. It was an innate sense to trust him. A primal part of me I didn’t know I possessed wanted nothing more than to be owned by him.
He said he would come to me if I merely stripped down and waded into the water, calling his name. I can do that.
A figure sways into my path at the bottom of the hill. My heart surges thinking it is Qurill returning to me, but that elevation quickly ices over. The figure is dripping wet, dressed in dark rags. A sword hangs loosely from his hip. Scars decorate his sunburned face. His undershirt is ripped open, revealing faded ink atop his tan skin.
I recognize this man.
The single wave filled in with black ink on his chest signals that he is a part of Blacktide’s crew. He is one of the men who helped Blacktide tie me to the rock. As he appears from the cliff’s shadow, his poor state becomes apparent. He is missing a leather boot. A large chunk of missing flesh mars his temple. Crimson blood trails down the side of his face.
His gold tooth glimmers as he snarls at me. Quickly, brandishing his sword, he thrusts it forward. Instinctively, I hold up my hands. I can’t make a run for it up the hill; even in his poor condition, he would catch me. I could try to scream, but there’s no guarantee anyone milling about above would take me seriously before he had a chance to cut me down. I need to be patient and wait for him to make a mistake and rush for the sea.
If I can make it to the water, Qurill will save me. I know he will.
“I knew I’d find you here,” the pirate snarls. “Saw that merman’s boat with you aboard it—knew you were to blame.”
I need to keep him talking. It’s the only chance I have of him lowering his guard for even a moment.
“Sacrificing me to the Kraken was never going to work,” I say. “The rough seas are an act of nature not even he can undo.”
The pirate shakes his head, droplets of seawater flying.
“Damn the rough seas. That’s not what I’m talking about.”
I arch a brow.
“Then what am I to blame for now?”
“Blacktide is dead.”
The sentence lands between us like a dead fish. My mouth falls open as goosebumps erupt on my flesh. The sun rises high overhead, beaming down on us with its full intensity.
“He’s dead,” the pirate repeats, “thanks to that merman. Strangled him right in front of all of us before sabotaging our hull. Everyone else is dead. I’m the soul survivor of the Dark Voyager, sent here to end you.”
My mind is racing at the pirate's words. There is a chance he could be lying, but his appearance demonstrates that what he is saying is true. Qurill killed Captain Blacktide? He was so gentle with me, it’s hard to imagine him doing something so bloodthirsty. And yet his words from yesterday float back to me.
And the man who chained you to this rock will be dead come sunrise.
A wicked thrill goes through me. I shouldn’t be delighted by such violence, but knowing he did that all in the name of keeping me safe…how could I not love him?
