Taking the final step to the navigation area, I see her sitting on the bench furthest from the controls, staring out into the darkness. Everyone else is below deck, but we’ll need to keep our voices low. Even downstairs, they likely will hear us.
Handing her the glass of water she requested, I sit beside her. She lowers her arm, resting the glass in her lap as she leans slightly forward.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You’re welcome.” Draping my arm along the back of the bench, my eyes wander to her tail, lying lazily beside her. I don’t know what it is about that damn thing, but I just want to play with it. I’ve never been much of an animal person, but something about her having a tail isoddly fascinating to me.
“Why are you staring at it?” she asks, finishing her drink in one long gulp.
“I was playing with it when we first got you on the boat,” I admit, shifting to angle myself toward her. I’ve got my arm resting on the back of the bench, but feel an urge and go for it. I slide my hand down and pick it up.
To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away.
It’s thinner than I expected. Something I can easily twirl around my fingers, yet surprisingly tough. Its smooth surface glides under my touch, but when I run my fingers the opposite way, I feel the faint protest of scales lifting against the motion.
She hums, and puts the glass down on the bench adjacent to us.
“There’s so much to talk about,” I begin, determined to finally get everything out so I can focus on just being with her.
But, before I can say another word, she pulls herself to me, straddling me and wrapping her arms tightly around my head. Her knees press into my hips with as much force as her grip, leaving no space between us. There’s no hesitation on my part—I immediately wrap one arm around her waist, the other threading through her hair.
Gods, I’ve missed the way she feels, even with the layers of clothing between us.
The warmth of her body is like the flames of a fire just as it bursts to life—intense, consuming, unforgettable. Her scent surrounds me, sweet like the night air, but with a lingering tartness that commands attention. Her heartbeat thrums steadily, a rhythm like the forest surrendering to the quiet power of night.
She’s my darkness.
The darkness I crave, the one I’ve missed beyond anything else in the life I left behind over three centuries ago.
Silence is her sanctuary, and I know she could stay like this until dawn without a word. It’s what she prefers, and I’d gladly oblige.
Her head shifts downward, her forehead pressing into the crook of my neck. Her voice is soft, almost lost in the space between us when she finally says, “I missed you.”
I wasn’t expecting her to say it first. That’s something I thought I’d have to initiate, but hearing those words from her fills me with something indescribable—a rush of elation I didn’t realize I needed until now.
“Fuck, I missed you too, Xera. It’s beyond even that.”
Kissing the side of her head, I hear her release a soft sigh. She leans back slightly, her dark eyes meeting mine, a storm of unspoken emotions swirling within them. The frown tugging at her lips says everything—she’s not ready to delve beyond these few words. I know she just wants this: the quiet, the connection, and the sound of the waves crashing against the boat as our only audible companion.
Her fingers slip under my shirt, and I raise my arms instinctively, letting her pull it over my head. I follow her lead, mirroring her action with the one she’s wearing, tossing it carelessly onto the floor where mine already lies.
As she curves her body against mine, the warmth of her skin sends a heat to ripple down my spine. Her Amoro clings to me with an intensity that feels almost primal. It’s desperate, just as I am for her.
I never allowed myself to think I’d never get her back, but now that I have her, the thought creeps in, and it’s fucking terrifying. The idea that I could have lost her sends a wave of unease coursing through me, raising bumps along my skin.
But I don’t linger on that. Instead, I pull her closer, grounding myself in the reality of her touch, her presence, and the certainty that she’s here now, and that’s all that matters.
“You also need to feed, and I want you to,” she murmurs. “But there is something I need to talk to you about before you do.”
I gently drag her hair behind her ears, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. Her soft breaths escape through slightly parted lips, each one warm against my skin. She’s feeding, and the way her arms tighten around me—almost possessively—tells me just how good it feels.
“I’m here to listen, little demon.”
“I’ve already explained that Tali was behind everything.” She didn't share everything, I’m certain; only that her mother had been trying to breed her to create more of their kind. I hated that she told everyone, including Alaric, but it was clear she didn’t care if they knew.
There weren’t explicit details, but it was obvious that the wounds are still too raw. Even for someone like Xeraphine, who takes trauma, eats it, and shits it out like it’s nothing but a meal, seems mortified.
I wasn’t the only one who sensed there was more to what had happened to her, but no one pushed. Sydni excused herself, with Brice and Niyla following closely behind. Alaric stayed, eager to hear more, but in true Xera fashion, she told him to fuck off.
