The skiff drifted on a current so calm it felt unnatural. After the violence of the Leviathan's pursuit, the silence pressed down heavier than any storm. The sails hung limp in the still night air, and the only sound was the weary creak of wood as the boat rocked gently against the swell.
Rhea sat slumped at the bow, her hands still raw from channeling power she barely understood. Every nerve in her body hummed with exhaustion, yet she could not rest. Her veins felt like rivers of ice and fire, the remnants of silver magic burning deep.
Kael moved with practiced quiet, checking the rigging though there was little wind to catch. His shoulders were stiff, every line of him drawn tight as if expecting the sea to betray them again at any moment. His golden eyes caught the moonlight whenever he glanced back at her. Watching. Measuring.
They did not speak for a long time.
At last, Rhea found her voice, low and ragged. "We shouldn't be alive."
Kael's mouth curved, but it was not a smile. "We shouldn't have been alive a dozen times over." He sank down across from her, folding his arms over his knees. "But here you are, still breathing. Still defying everything that wants you dead."
Her laugh came broken. "You make it sound like something to be proud of."
"It is," he said simply. Then his gaze hardened. "But I saw what you did. I saw what it cost you."
Rhea dropped her eyes, staring at the bruised half-moons of her palms. Her body remembered the Queen's presence, the way it had pressed against her mind with promises sweet as honey and sharp as thorns. Even now, she could feel her lurking in the shadows of her thoughts.
You don't need him, the Queen whispered. You don't need anyone. That surge you felt? That was only a drop of what I can give you. Imagine what it would be like if you stopped resisting.
Rhea pressed her fists together to silence the voice. But she could not silence the shiver of temptation that followed.
Kael studied her, unblinking. "You can't use her power like that again. Not unless you want to belong to her."
"She didn't win," Rhea said quickly, more to herself than him. "I fought her. I used my own strength."
Kael leaned forward, his voice a growl wrapped in steel. "You think I don't recognize the Queen's shadow when I see it? Don't lie to me, Rhea. Not about this."
Her chest tightened. For a heartbeat, she almost snapped back,denial rising hot in her throat. But the weight of his stare undid her. She exhaled slowly, lowering her gaze.
"She's always there," she admitted. "Sometimes it feels like she's inside my blood, waiting. And every time I fight, it gets harder to tell where she ends and I begin."
Silence fell heavy between them. Then Kael's hand reached across the narrow space, warm and steady as it closed over hers. "Then we'll make damn sure she never finds the opening she's hunting for."
The contact grounded her. His palm was rough, his grip firm, nothing like the Queen's phantom caress in her mind. Rhea clung to it like a lifeline.
Still, she knew he was wrong in one thing. The opening was already there.
Hours passed before land broke the horizon. Jagged cliffs loomed, their shadows cutting across the pale dawn. At their base stretched a narrow strip of black sand, glistening under the touch of retreating waves.
The Hollow Shore.
Rhea shivered at the name alone.
Kael's jaw tightened as he guided the skiff toward the beach. "We'll rest here. But not long."
The keel scraped against sand with a sound that jarred Rhea's bones. She stumbled as they disembarked, her legs weak beneath her weight. The air smelled different here,damp stone, iron, and something faintly sweet, like flowers left too long in a grave.
"Where are we?" she asked, voice hushed.
Kael's eyes scanned the cliffs, wary. "A place people avoid. For good reason. They say it was once a burial ground, before the sea claimed it."
Rhea's throat went dry. Every instinct told her this shore was wrong,the sand too dark, the silence too deep. Even the gulls wheeling overhead refused to land.
Still, exhaustion claimed her. They dragged the skiff higher up the shore and built a small fire from driftwood. Its flames flickered weakly, barely pushing back the chill that clung to the place.
Kael stood guard while she curled near the fire, her cloak wrapped tight. Sleep tugged at her, heavy and merciless.
But dreams were not merciful.
The Queen came to her there, stepping from the smoke and shadows. Draped in a gown of shifting mist, her beauty was terrible, flawless, and wrong. She knelt by Rhea's side, brushing a cool finger down her cheek.
Look at him, keeping watch like a hound. Do you think he can protect you from me? He can't even protect you from yourself.
Rhea tried to pull away, but the Queen's grip tightened.
You tasted my strength tonight. You burned with it. And you will again. No matter how you fight, little wolf, the hunger grows.
Rhea jolted awake, heart hammering, breath shallow. The fire had burned low. Kael's silhouette stood at the edge of the surf, every line of him sharp against the pale light of dawn.
He turned as she stirred, his expression unreadable. "Dreams?"
She swallowed hard, nodding once.
Kael's gaze lingered on her a long moment. Then he said, softly but firmly, "We keep moving at first light. Before this place eats at us too."
Rhea hugged her knees to her chest, staring into the dying fire. The Queen's laughter still echoed in her skull.
And she feared Kael was right. The Hollow Shore already felt like it was eating at her.