Page 76 of Odette's Vow

I felt hands,cold and trembling, drag me onto a piece of drifting wood in my semi-conscious state, but my strength was nearly spent after surviving the violent currents. It was all I could do to hold on, to float, to be carried away to wherever the gods were sending me next.

When I finally came to,I could feel something solid beneath my face; sand, I eventually recognised. Struggling, I blinked my eyes open to find Odette beside me. I had to concentrate all of my energy to focus on her form. Her hair was plastered to her face, her eyes closed, but she was breathing. It allowed me to hope, before exhaustion pulled me back under.

I have no idea how long we lay there. Days could have passed, it could have been hours, but eventually I stirred again when the warmth on my skin grew too much.

Groggily, I pried my eyes open to a sight unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting – an expanse of soft sand, a lush line of trees in the distance, and the steady murmur of the ocean behind me. For a moment, I lay still, letting the reality of the situation sink in. We had survived. Somehow, we had been spared.

Odette was already awake, sitting up beside me, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Her expression was unreadable, a mixture of exhaustion and something I couldn’t quite place – resignation, perhaps, or relief.

I pushed myself up, my body stiff and aching. “Are you all right?” I asked, my voice hoarse from the saltwater and strain.

She nodded, but said nothing. Her sight remained on the distant line where the sea met the sky, as if she were searching for something far beyond our reach.

Had I truly heard her make that vow?

I replayed the moment in my mind, searching for certainty. The words had chilled me, but it was her voice – I was sure of that. Gods, had I imagined it? Perhaps it was thirst that had played tricks on me, that hollow dryness burning in my throat and filling my thoughts with spectres. Because, whatever shewas, Odette was no fool. A vow that could destroy us both, if she had spoken such a thing, would surely have been laced with hatred, unmistakable in its intent. I would have felt it, wouldn’t I?

I clenched my jaw and forced the thought away. It was nonsense, the fanciful imaginings of a man too long at sea, too worn by war and weariness.

Instead, we spent the day exploring the island in each other’s quiet company, moving slowly, cautiously, as if afraid to disturb the peace that seemed to envelop the place. The land was bountiful. Fruit hung heavy on the trees, freshwater streams flowed clear and cool, and the air was rich with the scent of flowers and earth. It was a paradise, untouched by the hands of men or gods.

As we walked, I could feel the tension in my shoulders begin to ease, the weight of our journey lifting ever so slightly. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, there was no immediate danger, no looming threat, no divine punishment to fear. The sun was gentle on our skin, the breeze a soft caress that carried with it the scent of salt and life.

Days passed in a blur of quiet routine. We built a shelter from palm fronds and driftwood, a simple structure that provided shade and a sense of security. We gathered food, drank from the streams, and washed away the remnants of the day’s foraging in the cool waters of the island’s pools. With each passing day, the island seemed to welcome us more, generously offering its resources.

Odette spoke little, her silence a constant companion that I had grown accustomed to. I watched her as she moved through our days with a calm efficiency, her hands never idle, her thoughts always elsewhere. She was still with me, but I could feel the distance between us growing.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, and we sat just close enough to the water’s edge that the waves could lap at our feet, as had been our custom the last several nights, I found myself saying, “We could stay here,” the words slipping out before I had fully considered them.

She turned to me, her eyes reflecting the fading light. “Stay?” she echoed, her voice soft, almost disbelieving.

“I would, with you,” I replied, and I meant it. After everything we had been through, after all the losses and the pain, I was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of struggling to reach a home that had become more myth than reality in my mind. Here, with Odette, I could find a different kind of peace.

“We have everything we need here,” I continued, the idea solidifying in my mind as I spoke. “Food, water, shelter. It’s peaceful. We could build a life here, grow old here. Together.”

Odette looked out at the sea, her expression unreadable once more. “And Ithaca?” she asked.

“Ithaca is a distant memory,” I said, surprising even myself with the truth of it. “This place, it could be our Ithaca. We could find peace here, after everything.”

She didn’t say anything, but the way she leaned into me, the way her hand found mine, told me everything I needed to know. We were in this together, whatever ‘this’ was. For the first time in what felt like years, I allowed myself to dream of a future that didn’t involve endless battles and impossible quests.

In the silence I watched her, noticing the way the fading light of the day played across her features, softening the edges of her worry. She must have felt me staring, for her eyes met mine, and for a moment something unspoken passed between us – a shared recognition of all that we had endured, and perhaps, a tentative hope for what might yet come.

Without a word, I reached over and with my other hand, pulled her hip towards me until she rolled onto my lap, thespace between us closed in an instant. I reached out, my hand brushing against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, the steady beat of her pulse beneath my fingers, until my thumb parted her lips and she let out a little breathy moan. I leant forward and captured it with my own mouth, my hand gripping her hair, pulling her deeper into me.

My other hand roamed over her body, memorising the spot between her neck and her shoulder, the heavy weight of her breast, the dip of her waist, and curve of her hip, as if trying to etch this moment into my very soul. Odette arched into me, her body willing as she moved on top of me, in that soft, urgent way of hers. I let myself get lost in her, in the rhythm of our bodies that was both familiar and yet entirely new, until the heat between us built to a burning intensity.

Unsheathing myself, Odette spread herself wider and then settled down onto me, both of us watching my cock fill her slowly. She moaned. I myself had to bite back a curse to stop from digging my fingers into her thick hips, pulling out and slamming myself back in or speeding it up.

I wanted to savour this sweet hell.

I took her mouth in another kiss. She tasted like the sweetest of ripe apples, her moans better than any symphony my mind could remember, the feel of her smooth skin against my calloused hands a balm I somehow knew I needed for the rest of my life.

She sunk down on me again, over and over, until my head rolled back and she leaned to kiss the thick cord of my neck, and I couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried, cupping her to me, her breasts crushed against my chest, as I pumped once, twice, three times, and came deep inside her.

Afterwards, with Odette snuggled into my chest, I leaned in to press a kiss against her forehead, her hair tickling me and smelling of crushed grass. This woman in my arms had becomemy home away from home, the one who could cajole me into a laugh or a tired smile, no matter my temperament, whose mind was so like mine. These past days, I had found myself craving to wake her just to hear her thoughts, though sparing but insightful during the day, or share my own with her.

I still loved my wife, and I’d fallen in love with the woman beside me.

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