Chapter 138
The deck is a hive of activity, the remnants of the battle still evident in the shattered railings, scattered debris, and the burnt stench of charred wood. The air is thick with the tang of ozone and smoke, mingling with the salty tang of the ocean. The sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sea in hues of fiery orange and red, a stark contrast to the chaos still gripping the ship.
Crew members scurry across the deck, their voices blending into a steady hum of coordinated effort as they work to clear the wreckage and stabilize the vessel. Amid the noise and motion, I stand frozen, my heart pounding and my body trembling with adrenaline.
Wake reaches me before I can collect myself, his strong hands gripping my shoulders, turning me this way and that as if checking for damage. His touch is firm yet tender, his jaw set in that determined way he has when he’s trying to mask his worry.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, his voice rough and steady, though the way his fingers press into my arms betrays his concern.
I shake my head, still catching my breath. “Not physically. You?”
He rolls his shoulder, wincing slightly, and I notice a dark bruise blooming along his jawline. It makes his rugged features look even fiercer, but the sight fills me with a pang of guilt. “Nothing that won’t heal,” he mutters.
Without thinking, I reach up, brushing my fingertips lightly against the bruise. “I don’t know how you always manage to walk away from these fights in one piece,” I say softly, my voice tinged with admiration and exasperation.
“I don’t always,” he replies, his tone heavy with meaning. For a moment, he leans into my touch, his forehead almost brushing mine. Then, in a move so seamless it feels like instinct, he tilts his head and presses his lips to mine.
It’s not a desperate kiss, not a frantic clash born of relief and fear. It’s steady, grounding—like he’s anchoring me to the deck beneath our feet, to the world that continues spinning despite everything.
When we part, I sigh softly, already missing the warmth of his presence. His eyes flick toward the chaos around us, the crew still hard at work. “I should help,” he says, his voice low.
I nod, reluctant to let him go but understanding the necessity. “Don’t overdo it, okay?”
A ghost of a smile crosses his lips before he steps away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd. I watch him go, and as my gaze shifts to the far end of the deck, I freeze.
Cora stands with Khale, their heads bowed in quiet conversation. Despite the noise and movement around them, they seem insulated, as if nothing else matters.
His towering frame nearly eclipses hers, but there’s an intimacy in the way they stand. When Khale wraps his arms around her in a brief embrace, my stomach twists with a confusing mix of emotions. His hand lingers on her back for a moment before he steps away to assist the crew, leaving Cora alone.
She turns, her sharp blue eyes locking onto mine. Without hesitation, she strides toward me, her steps purposeful despite the uneven deck. When she reaches me, she throws her arms around me in a fierce hug, catching me off guard.
“Phoebe,” she breathes, her voice trembling with emotion. Her embrace is strong, grounding, and for the first time in years, I feel the full weight of her love and worry. It’s overwhelming, and I stiffen at first, unsure how to respond.
But then, the knot inside me unravels, and I sink into her arms. Tears sting my eyes, and I clutch her tightly, my emotions spilling over. Years of pain, confusion, and longing pour out of me, and she holds me through it, murmuring soft words of comfort.
When I finally pull back, she cups my face in her hands, her gaze searching mine. “How?” she whispers, as though the very sight of me is a miracle she can’t quite believe.
I hesitate, the words caught in my throat. “It’s... complicated,” I finally manage. “Enigma had technology, and I… I found a way to use it against them. I turned their experiments into my salvation.”
Her eyes widen, curiosity flickering in their depths, but then her expression softens. She steps back, her hands falling to her sides. “What about you?” I ask, eager to shift the focus away from my tangled past. “How did you regain your abilities? I thought you couldn’t set foot in saltwater again.”
Cora’s expression turns pensive. “The Euclideans have a ritual,” she says slowly. “A test of mind, body, and spirit. Dangerous, potentially fatal. But completing it helped me reconnect to the sea in a way I never thought possible.”
Her words send a shiver down my spine. “Do you think I could learn to master my powers there? At the Euclidean village?”
She hesitates, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. “Perhaps. But the ritual isn’t just about mastering powers. It’s about transformation. Some things, once started, cannot be undone.”
“I don’t care about undoing anything,” I say firmly. “You believe that Electra sets us on the path we’re meant to take, right? Then what I see in front of me is an opportunity to become whole. I may have figured out how to flip my biological switch, but in my heart, I’m still human. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
Cora’s expression softens, and she pulls me into another hug. “You are so much stronger than you know, Phoebe,” she murmurs. “If this is the path you choose, I will guide you. But understand—it will not be easy.”
“I’m ready,” I say, even as doubt gnaws at the edges of my resolve.
She pulls back, her hands resting on my arms, her gaze steady. “Then I’ll take you to the Euclidean village. But remember, darling—once you begin this journey, there’s no turning back.”
The wind carries the scent of the ocean, mingling with the fading tang of smoke. The chaos on the deck begins to settle, but I know that the storm is far from over. A sense of purpose fills me, steadying my resolve.
No turning back. I can live with that.
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