Page 137 of Cursed Evermore
My stomach flip-flopped at the mention of Wolfe, his name sending an unwelcome thrill through me. “Resting sounds good.”
“I hope to have you at least feeling your magic again by the end of the day.”
My eyes widened at the prospect. “Really? Could you truly do that?”
“I think I could.” The proud smile that graced her face promised she'd do her best. “Eat now and get ready.”
“I will. See you in a little while.”
She dipped her head and left. I inhaled a sharp breath, still feeling the magic in the air even in here. It clung to everything like invisible silk. I tucked into the porridge, my body and mind thanking me for the sustenance.
I finished eating and changed into the dress Arielle left. The royal blue fabric felt like liquid against my skin, transforming me into someone who might actually belong in this magical realm.
Looking at myself in the mirror was a good feeling. I’d been through a lot, nearly died, but there was an inner glow in my expression that looked like happiness. It was strange given the circumstances but it felt right.
By the time I finished fixing my hair the ship had docked.
I thought I'd see Wolfe again, but he was nowhere to be seen once I stepped off the ship.
Accompanying me were Arielle, Garrick, and Sirril. Wolfe and the other Bloodsworn weren’t around. It wasn't until Garrick uttered a spell that made the ship fade into the air before us that I realized they'd left.He'dleft.
I wanted to ask for Wolfe, ask when I'd be seeing him again, but I felt it would seem strange. Too desperate, too revealing of the confusion he'd stirred within me.
Somehow, I had a sinking feeling that the little connection we'd shared earlier was a hello and goodbye moment rolled into one. A brief glimpse of something that would never be allowed to bloom.
I sensed that things would be very different now that we'd reached our destination. This was obviously the start of it.
There would be no almost kisses, hand holding, or enchanting bathtubs to give me comfort. No more stolen moments where I could pretend this was anything other than what it was.
It made sense. After all, Wolfe Nightblade was my captor. I was his prisoner here in Galaythia. Not a guest. No matter what happened, no matter how my treacherous heart reacted to his presence, I needed to remember those things.
“Don't worry, my Lady, the ship will return when we need it,” Garrick explained, mistaking my sullen expression for surprise at the ship's disappearance.
I schooled my thoughts immediately. Watching an entire ship disappear was exactly the sort of thing thatshouldsurprise me. It did. But thinking about Wolfe had momentarily overshadowed my shock.
“Where did it go?”
“To be serviced.” He grinned, crossing thick tattooed arms over his chest.
“And probably to sulk somewhere private.” Arielle chimed in with a shake of her head. “They have to service it aftereveryvoyage because the poor ship is always in desperate need of recuperation after a round with them. I'm surprised it hasn't sailed away and left you all stranded.”
This was the second time I'd noticed how inanimate objects were treated like living things here. I liked that. It felt respectful. A recognition that magic breathed life into everything.
“You do realize that A. we have wings to fly wherever we want, and B. the ship is bound to its captain.” Garrick smirked with cocky male confidence.
“My Lady, the ship would never betray Lord Nightblade and leave him stranded,” Sirril cut in with absolute certainty.
“It might consider it with the crazy way you guys train. There were sword shards all over the hub,” Arielle scoffed, but there was fondness in her exasperation.
“I think you're just bitter because you don't get to seeBastianwhen we're away.”
Garrick's taunt hit the mark, and Arielle's cheeks flushed a deep beetroot red that made her look younger, more vulnerable.
I'd gathered, from mere observation, that she and Bastian seemed to be a couple. I wasn't entirely sure, though.
It was the way he'd flown after her when the Ruskiel trapped her in that sphere. His actions spoke of someone who jumped into action when a loved one teetered on the brink of life or death.
“That is not why. And I'm not bitter.” Arielle's voice carried just enough edge to prove she absolutely was.
