Page 57

Marin

The inky tunnel emptied at a solid wood door. Torches flickered like sentries in metal sconces on either side. Water dripped against the stone floor with a steady pulse as if the tunnel itself had a heartbeat. My own quickened as I gripped the heavy ring fixed to the door and pushed it open.

Stale air greeted my lungs, and dust motes glistened in the guttering light. Gavin wrested one of the torches free from its iron grip and followed me into the treasure room.

The dim light revealed glimpses of treasure piled high on raised platforms. Jewels spilled from wooden casks, sparkling as we passed. Cobwebs clung to stone pillars, and everything was coated in a thick layer of dust, untouched for ages.

Gavin barely spared the jewels a second glance. Years ago, he would have lingered over them, held them up to the light to examine their clarity. Now, he just pressed forward, the shard his only focus.

“Do you see it?” he asked, his voice still a whisper even though the giant was far behind us. But that only made this place feel eerier, as if it were hallowed ground. And in a way, it was. A ghostly presence hung in the air, a silent echo of those who’d tried to defeat the giant and failed.

“Not yet.” I ran my damp palms over the fabric of my shirt, a tiny fear curling inside my chest. What if it wasn’t here? What if after all this, we left empty-handed?

“We’ll find it, Marin.” Gavin raised the torch over his head, the light expanding over the treasure.

And then, there, in the corner of the chamber, stood a dais holding an object caged in glass.

The shard was smaller than I’d imagined, easily something I could fit in my palm.

I lifted it from the glass case and removed its thin sheath.

The ocean’s influence was unmistakable. It was jagged, the uneven ends razor-sharp like glass and fused to a piece of coral.

The torchlight illuminated the shard’s shifting colors, swirling like a tide of deep blues and sea green.

My fingers slid over the slick surface. It felt wet, but it wasn’t. My skin stayed dry.

Gavin’s hand settled on my shoulder. “You did it.”

My face tilted up to his. “No. We did it. I never would have found it alone. Thank you, Gavin.”

His teasing tone filled my ears. “What are partners for? Just don’t complain when you get my bill.”

I laughed softly. “Look around. Take your payment from here, otherwise you might have to wait a while.”

“Hmm… I don’t want your gold.” His fingers drifted over the back of my neck, sending a shiver of heat down my spine.

Was I a terrible hunter, that all I wanted to do was toss the shard in my pack and head back to the cabin? If the shard had emotions it would probably feel slighted. Poor thing waited years to be found, and I was more interested in the thief tracing slow circles against my skin.

“But I guess we’ll have to wait,” he murmured. A seductive grin carved across his lips. “You might wake the giant.”

I cocked my head, letting my finger hook lazily around the compass chain where it rested just above the swell of my chest. His gaze dipped—lingered.

“If I don’t, are you even trying hard enough?”

A quiet laugh rumbled from his throat. “You have a wicked mouth, Mare. And I love it.”

“Come on, unless you want to do a little exploring, let’s take the shard and go.”

“No. We have what we came for. Besides—” Gavin lifted his shoulder in an easy shrug. “I wouldn’t want to break your rule. It’s rude to take things without giving anything back.”

“Ah, yes.” I tucked the shard into the bottom of my pack, then reached into the satchel at my waist. I frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t bring any sea glass. I can’t believe I forgot.”

“You did have a charming thief challenging your every move. So it’s not unreasonable.”

“Still…” I chewed the corner of my lip, staring at the dais. All these years, I’ve always left a piece of sea glass behind. And now, when it mattered the most, I didn’t have any.

“Use this one.” Gavin’s tone was soft as he dug into his satchel and removed a small piece of translucent glass. It was pale blue and worn into the shape of a crescent moon.

My breath caught. I recognized it instantly. It was the one I’d left behind years ago in Gavin’s pocket in exchange for a jewel.

“You kept it?”

“Yeah.” He cleared the roughness from his voice. “It’s not every day a woman outsmarts me and leaves sea glass in my pocket.”

I smiled. “It’s not every day a man dares me to try.”

Gavin dropped the piece of glass into my palm. The smooth surface reacted instantly with my skin, energy flowing across my nerves like an ocean wave .

“Are you sure?”

He folded my fingers over the glass, holding my hand in his own. “I carried it with me because I thought it was the only piece of you I’d ever have. But I told you, I’m greedy when it comes to you. A piece of sea glass isn’t enough anymore. You’ll have to make it up to me. With interest.”

“Gavin Blackwood, always negotiating for a better hand. Fine. It’s a deal.” I lifted a brow. “But I don’t think just leaving something of mine is enough anymore.” My fingers delved back into my satchel to pull out his trick coin. “We are partners, after all.”

His eyes gleamed as bright as the coin. “That’s fair. Heads up?”

I grinned, placing the sea glass and the coin onto the dais. “Heads up for eternity.”

Gavin slung his arm over my shoulder. “Ready to face the giant again? Hopefully, he moved his hand.”

My nose wrinkled. “I’m not dangling from a ledge over a steaming pit.” I pointed to the wall where a rune was etched above a doorway disguised by stone. “I’m taking the easy way out. You’re welcome to join me.”

Gavin moved his torch along the wall, and the light transformed the stone into a view of green grass and blue sky at the base of the castle wall. Back to where we started.

“Now that is my kind of exit. Too bad we can’t get one of those that takes us straight back to town.”

“Tell me about it. A real bed and a hot meal sound nice right about now.”

Gavin nodded. “The life of a hunter isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. But if you ask real nicely, I’ll let you share my bedroll.”

I punched him in the shoulder, earning me a throaty laugh. “ You’re insuff—”

“Insufferable. I know.” Gavin winked. “But you love me anyway.”

I did. And as long as I made it to the sea in time, I’d have the rest of my life to prove it.

***

The bog let us go easily on the way back. No sticky sap on our shoes, no monsters bursting from the murky water. This time, the real trouble waited in the fields.

Gavin took the lead, the sun dipping slowly below the clouds, painting the tall grass in gold strokes. We were at least another hour from town. After stopping at the inn for the night, we’d descend the vine the morning.

I only had three days left before my curse sealed my fate. We were cutting it close. All day, my legs had felt weak, and an ache in my chest left me winded. The steam only partially relieved the symptoms. I needed something stronger, more like the sea than boiling water could offer.

Gavin watched me like a man possessed, throwing glances over his shoulder every few minutes. If he didn’t watch where he was going, he’d fall into a ditch, and I’d have to carry him for a change. Not that we’d get very far.

“I think I want roast lamb for dinner tonight,” I mused, catching his eye when he glanced over his shoulder, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. “With extra gravy and steamed carrots. Our last meal in the sky should be more than cheese and stale bread.”

“We used to have honey, but you ate all of that. ”

I chuckled. “I thought I deserved a ‘you outwitted a sleepy giant and all you got was moss on your shoes’ kind of treat.”

Gavin hacked a path through the grass, making it easier for me to wade through. “You could have shared a little bit, though. I did save you from that vicious snake inside the cabin. Years of snake charming at your service.”

“Eh. I had my pot,” I deadpanned, rolling my shoulders as the ache pressed at my ribs. “Guess you’re not the only greedy one around here.”

“Seems so.”

I quickened my steps to catch up to him, pulling my damp shirt away from my skin. The fields were sweltering even though the sunlight was fading. My body burned like I’d sat too close to a campfire.

“You know,” I said, keeping outside of the swinging arc of his cutlass.

“We haven’t really talked about what happens when we return home.

That house of yours is so big. It has like eight bedrooms, a massive kitchen, and then there’s that library.

” I watched as Gavin’s back tensed, the cutlass pausing mid-swing.

He glanced over his shoulder. A strange note thickened his voice. “Library?”

“Yeah. The one with all those adventure novels, and the writing desk positioned perfectly to overlook the sea.

“The one behind the locked door?”

My lips curled softly. “Locked is a very strong word for a treasure hunter. And you did give me a key.” I fiddled with the compass chain around my neck. “Unless you plan to take it back?”

He faced me, the first few stars emerging from the deepening sky behind his back .

“Don’t play games, Marin. You know I built that library for you.”

“I do. That’s when I knew you never betrayed me to the witch. Long before I ever read Reid’s journal.”

Gavin swallowed thickly. “I didn’t build it as proof.”

“I know that too.”

He hesitated, something unspoken hanging between us. “Do you want to return your key?” His tone was quiet, eyes vulnerable as if he still wasn’t sure where he stood in my life.

“No. I plan to keep it. How else am I going to live there with you?”

Gavin exhaled a jagged breath, vulnerability snapping into relief as his fingers circled my wrist and he tugged me against him. “Good. That house is way too big for one person. And I want to see you in that library. Every day.”

“Only if you stand outside the window with a hammer.”

He laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead, but he pulled away and frowned. “You’re warm, Mare.” The back of his hand flattened against my cheek. “Feverish.”

“It’s the fields, isn’t it? It’s not just me.” A wave of dizziness blurred my vision, and I swallowed against the strange metallic taste in my mouth. “This isn’t the same as before.”

“No. It’s not the fields. It’s cold here.” His brow creased. “We’re close to town. Maybe an hour, two tops. Do you need me to—”

I rolled my eyes. “If you say ‘carry you,’ I’m taking that cutlass and hacking through this field myself. I’m fine. I can breathe fine.”

And I could. A little shallow, maybe, but nothing like that terrifying moment in the cabin. This was deeper. Like a fire consuming me from the inside out. Like a thirst I couldn’t quench with the water inside my flask. I licked my lips, half-expecting to taste salt.

“Let’s keep moving. It’s getting dark, and if there are any beasties living in these fields, I bet they come out at night.” I made the joke, brushing past him as my knees wobbled. Fire licked up my back, sweat beading on my temple.

This was so strange. I needed water. My fingers fumbled around the cap on my flask. Cool liquid slid past my throat, but it didn’t help. It wasn’t right. I needed…

I staggered a step, the word slipping past my lips as the ground tilted.

“Salt.”

Gavin lunged for me as I collapsed into the tall grass.

There was a roaring in my ears like the sound of ocean waves. It drowned everything else out, except for the fire. Why couldn’t it stop the heat? A whimper burned in my throat as a deep voice fought against the waves.

Hands lifted me. Or was I sinking? Drowning again?

I tried to speak, but my tongue felt heavy, my lips too dry. The world blurred, stars melting into darkness.

“Stay with me, Mare—” The words were muffled and warped, swallowed by the waves.

Then, nothing.