Page 84 of Scourge of the Shores
"They’re buildin’ new homes, craftin’ strange contraptions, dancin’, singin’. No fear hangs over ‘em.”
A long sigh escaped her lips, heavy as an anchor.
"But me? I feel like I don’t belong. Like I’m a shadow where there’s only sunlight now. They look at me—like I’m a reminder of what they lost. Their loved ones’ blood stains me hands, Lucas, and I can’t give back what was taken."
Lucas squeezed her hand. “Ye healed our island,” he finally said. “They honor ye.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead on her shoulder. “I honor ye as me daughter and as the leader of our people. Ye saved us from Cain, and ye saved us from pirates.”
“Robert did,” Danna said with slumped shoulders.
“No,” Lucas shook his head, catching her gaze with eyes alight. “He helped, sure. But even if he’d never set foot on these shores, ye’d have bested Cain—one way or ‘nother. I raised ye with determination in yer bones. Grit in yer heart. Hope in yer soul.” He patted her hand, then pressed her temple to his lips, rough and tender all at once.
“I don’t wanna be alone, Lucas,” she said with a break in her voice. “And I realized I don’t wanna stay here, but I can’t leave Ma.”
“I’ll tend to yer Ma,” Lucas said. “She’s on the mend, slow and sure. She’ll find herself again, ye’ll see. And she’d want ye to find peace too, Danna. The sea still calls ye. The prophecy? Maybe it was all just ramblin’.”
The breeze whistled in the succeeding silence as if it agreed.
Lucas took a deep breath; a smile tugged on the corners of his lips. “There be some here who’ve lost everythin’—no kin, no reason to stay. Take yer family ship, lass. Find yer way and set a course for the world. The North Sea’s vast, aye, but ye’ve got sirens singin’ death in the West, Krakens stirrin’ the deep in the South, enchanters weavin’ their tricks in the East… and gods lurkin’ all around.”
His lips spread thin, revealing the happiest smile she’d ever seen on him. “Just don’t go gettin’ yerself killed, eh?”
Danna swallowed hard, the weight of his words sitting deep in her chest. Her gaze drifted to the sea before she shook her head.
“It ain’t the same, Lucas. Ma’ll die. She’ll wither if I’m not here. She only clings to life ‘cause of that prophecy yer enchanter friend gave ye—the one sayin’ some ‘worthy man’ would come from the seas for me.”
A bitter chuckle escaped.
“I think she only holds on hopin’ to see me happy and safe. But she never wanted this place, never wanted any of it. Cain took her limbs and what was left of her spirit.”
Danna let out a laugh filled with irony. “And so the circle spins again. Back to Cain. Always back to the cursed beast.” She leaned forward and ran a fist through the water and let its cold chill bite her face.
Lucas shifted beside her, turning to face the endless blue. With a sigh, he draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against his chest.
“I’m sorry, Danna.” His voice wavered. “I pushed ye too young. Fool that I was, I believed that enchanter’s words.” He dragged a hand down his face, rough with regret.
“Before Cain came, for three good years, all ye talked about was the sea—yer grandpappy Chadwick’s ship—how ye’d be the finest Captain the world had ever known. Used to run ‘round with that play sword—” He chuckled, the sound laced with old warmth. “That ol’ branch ye swore was a cutlass. Thought ye were the Queen of the Seas—a Sea Queen.”
His head dipped, eyes lost in distant memories.
"Aye . . . I’d forgotten,” he whispered.
Danna shook her head, brows furrowed.
"Don’t recall ever doin’ such foolery."
Lucas let out a low laugh, though sadness still clung to it.
"That’s ‘cause I never let ye be a child after Cain showed his cursed face. I saw what ye could be—a leader, fierce and true. I pushed ye hard, aye. Too hard. Jaymes made ye smile again, and I . . . I dragged ye back here. Maybe that enchanter was just spinnin’ tales, and I was too blind to see it. Maybe . . . there ain’t no man from the seas."
Danna wiped her face.
"Like I said, I can’t leave Ma—not like this. Even in yer care, I’d carry the regret like an anchor.” She half-lied to stop Lucas from convincing her to leave Ma. “Truth be told, the sea calls to me . . . but through a dark abyss. The open waters, no land in sight . . . it chills me bones."
Lucas gave her a gentle squeeze before letting her go. His voice dropped, softer now.
"Just remember this, me girl—all ye ever dreamed lies just beyond the threshold of what ye fear. Think on takin’ that ship. Think on leavin’ this place. My offer stands—I’ll care for yer Ma, all her days."
He pressed a fatherly kiss to her temple, then stepped away, leaving her perched atop the rock barrier, staring at the restless sea beyond the bay.
