Page 24

My mother took a heavy breath. “What happened?”

“We were on our way home when I spotted the storm on the horizon. I told Captain Hartshire that we should get ahead of it and turn west, but he disagreed. A few hours later, we were battling the storm and lost half the crew—including the captain.”

My father said nothing, but spiteful anger was heavy in his gaze.

My mother listened on, mesmerized by the tale.

“We were blown off course and…” This was the part where I should tell my father exactly where we’d ended up, but something made me stop. My eyes flicked away to other parts of the room in expectation of Wrath, God of the Underworld, but he was nowhere to be found. “We hit some rocks… we were stuck there. The way we landed kept us protected from the storm, sothat saved us. Once the storm passed, we repaired the ship and headed on our way. But that wasn’t the end of it.”

No, it just got worse.

Both of my parents listened with rapt attention.

“A fleet of warships passed in the night. We raised our sails in the hope they would miss us in the dark, but they spotted us. They boarded our ship, and we fought them off. But then another came. They took me prisoner and killed the others.”

My father’s chin dropped slightly, and his entire face contorted in both anger and disgust.

My mother’s face went pale as milk, like she didn’t want to hear any more.

I put their misery to rest. “Nothing happened to me. I escaped shortly after they put me in a cell.”

My father lifted his chin again, his unease quickly assuaged. “How?”

I still didn’t know how. I didn’t know what Wrath had done to kill everyone on the ship. “They thought they locked the door, but I noticed it didn’t click when they turned the key. I was able to walk out, sneak to the back of the boat, and take one of their sailboats. I dropped it into the water, and they didn’t notice me get left behind.”

“And you sailed all the way here alone on that little sailboat?” my mother asked incredulously.

I nodded. “The journey took three days. There was no fishing gear in the boat, so I couldn’t fish or hunt. There wasn’t water either, and of course, it didn’t rain so soon after a storm.” Tellingthe story made me relive it, reminded me of everything that had happened to get me here now, safe in my bed with my family. My eyes turned to my father, and his dark eyes were heavy with the weight of sorrow. “I’m still here because of you. I kept that galleon above water because of the storms we faced together. I killed men who boarded our ship and slaughtered a commander who was more beast than a man. And I made it across the ocean in that little boat…because of everything you taught me.”

His eyes misted in both pride and pain.

“I’m the only survivor…because of you.”

This time, he didn’t blink his tears away or redirect his stare. He’d never looked more proud to call me his daughter, never looked more emotional than he did now, like he’d fulfilled his purpose as a father. “That’s my girl.”

I stayed in my old bedchambers for a few days until I was fully recovered. When I felt strong enough to go out on my own again, I left the castle and went back to where I’d been living before I left, one of the villas, a private building that was separate from the castle on top of the cliff. It had a spectacular view of the ocean, was near the olive trees in the garden and the mighty oaks that cast long shadows at sunset.

It was a one-bedroom house with a large living room and a kitchen, close enough to the castle that I was near my family, but also far enough away that I had my own privacy as an adult. Six months on my own had made me treasure my independence and privacy, but it also made me appreciate my family more than I had before.

The villa was the perfect compromise.

I cooked my own meals and spent time alone. My parents seemed to understand that I needed space. A lot had happened to me recently. The guys who had shared the galleon had been more than crew members, especially after sailing together for six months. We’d become a strange, dysfunctional family.

I sat at the dining table alone with a hot cup of tea, the fire burning in the hearth for warmth as the sun went down and the cold crept in from the surface of the ocean. I listened to it crackle and burn, saw earth-toned eyes in the red flames.

A knock sounded on the door and shattered my reverie. “It’s open.” It had to be my mother or father, because a dragon didn’t knock. He just barged into my head whenever he felt like it.

My mom opened the door, holding a casserole. “Thought you might be hungry.”

“Is it sweet potato casserole?”

She smiled. “Your favorite.”

I patted the surface of the table with my palm. “Have a seat.”

She chuckled then placed it in the center before she sat across from me.

I grabbed two forks from the kitchen then sat down again, eating straight out of the dish because it was just me in this villa. The meal was still warm from being pulled out of the oven, and it practically melted on my tongue the second it was in my mouth.