I’ve reorganized my rings four times, braided and unbraided my hair twice, and counted the planks on the deck. Nothing’s stopping me from replaying that conversation with Logan below deck over and over again, remembering the heat in his gaze when he looked down at me, the hunger when he kissed me, and the way I wanted him even more after his confession, even though I know I shouldn’t.
Logan’s been at the helm, steering wherever Callie and Evie tell him to, his jaw set in that hard line that means he’s running calculations he doesn’t want to share. Every time I try to catch his eye, he’s suddenly fascinated by the horizon, or the sails, or literally anything that isn’t me.
“Wait.” Callie straightens. “I think I see something.”
I move to the railing, squinting into the darkness.
“Is that land?”
It emerges from the mist like a paradise rising from the water, silhouetted against the star-scattered sky.
As we get closer, details start to take shape. Cliffs rise from the water, trees crowd the slopes, and a beach glows pale in the starlight.
“Aeaea,” Evie says barely above a whisper, her hands shaking as she gathers the charts. “We made it.”
My lungs stop functioning, because the hope in her eyes will be snuffed out when she learns Oliver isn’t here.
Callie guides us into a natural cove that creates a sheltered harbor, and Kieran jumps over the hull to secure us to a rock formation that looks like it was designed for this purpose.
He, Evie, and I step onto the beach. Logan and Callie stay on the boat, prepared to get us out of here fast if something goes wrong.
“Stay alert.” Kieran scans the tree line, his dagger ready. “We don’t know what?—”
Rustling from the trees cuts him off.
My hand finds my own dagger. It’s the one Kieran gave me the first day at the Scorched Circles, and the leather grip is warm, familiar in a way that’s almost comforting.
The rustling gets louder.
Then, dozens of animals emerge. Wolves, lions, deer, foxes and others I don’t have names for, all of them padding along the beach like a welcoming committee of prey and predators.
“Don’t move,” Kieran says, low and steady. “Let them approach first.”
A giant wolf comes my way, looking up at me with eyes that are way too intelligent. It’s like it’s sizing me up, deciding if I’m worth its time.
Apparently I pass the test, because it huffs and moves on to Evie, who’s being circled by three foxes. She’s standing frozen, her hands by her sides, but there’s wonder in her eyes instead of fear.
“They’re Circe’s,” she explains, keeping her voice soft. “Legends say they were men once. Sailors who landed on her shores and displeased her.”
A massive lion pads past me, close enough that its fur brushes my arm. I hold my breath, waiting for teeth, or claws, or whatever lions do when they attack.
It keeps walking.
Okay. This is fine. The murder cats are friendly. Everything is totally normal.
One by one, the animals inspect us, and one by one, they seem to decide we’re acceptable. Now they’re standing and sitting across from us on the beach, as if they’re waiting for us to make the next move.
I glance at Logan and Callie to see if they’re coming.
Logan’s standing near the railing, looking like he’s about to step off onto the beach. Then he shudders, and his eyes do thatdistant, flickering thing that happens when he’s burning through time.
It only lasts a second. A person wouldn’t notice if they weren’t looking for it.
“I’ll stay back and guard the boat,” he says, flat and controlled. “So I can make sure no one steals it while you’re looking for Circe.”
“I’ll stay, too,” Callie says from where she’s standing near the bow, her arms crossed, her eyes locked on Logan. There’s a soft, possessive note in her voice that makes my fingers itch with the urge to spark.
I wait for Logan to tell her he can handle it alone and that she should go with us.
