Page 15 of Seas the Day
“There’s a communicator on the desk by the window,” he said, gesturing toward an elegant piece of furniture positioned to take advantage of the ocean view. “It works very similar to a phone and should be fairly intuitive.”
She nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Thank you.”
He moved toward the door with that same controlled grace, pausing at the threshold. For a moment, she thought he might say something important—his jaw worked as if he were choosing his words carefully. But in the end, he simply inclined his head in a gesture that managed to be both formal and oddly intimate.
“I’ll see you in an hour, Navira.”
The way he said her name—like he was tasting it, savoring it—sent shivers down her spine. Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click that seemed to echo in the sudden silence.
Navira stood frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs as she processed everything that had just happened. The luxury of the suite, the careful courtesy in his manner, the way he’d looked at her like she was something precious and dangerous all at once.
What have I gotten myself into?
She moved to the desk he’d indicated, running her fingers over its polished surface as she tried to center herself. The communicator looked remarkably similar to a traditional phone, though it was crafted from some kind of metal that seemed to shift colors in the light. After a moment of experimentation, she managed to figure out the interface and dialed her father’s familiar number.
He answered on the second ring, his voice holding the same steady warmth that had been her anchor through every crisis of her life.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Dad.” The words came out rougher than she’d intended, thick with emotions she couldn’t quite name.
“Navira? I don’t recognize this number.”
“I’m out of town,” she said, sinking into the chair behind the desk as relief flooded through her at the sound of his voice. “Actually, I’m on another planet, but don’t worry.”
A long pause. “That sounds impossible. How and why are you on another planet?”
Despite everything, she found herself smiling at his practical tone. Even faced with the impossible, Robert Amaryllis approached it with the same steady logic he applied to everything else.
“It’s a pretty crazy story, but I’m here for a coaching job. I’ll be here for a month. Dean Morris actually recommended me for the position.”
Another pause, shorter this time. “Well, that’s surprising, but not really. I could sense how unfulfilled you’ve been these past five years, sweetheart. Ever since your shoulder injury and you stopped competing. Maybe this will be a good challenge for you—something to light that spark again.”
The understanding in his voice nearly undid her. He’d always been able to see through her carefully constructed facades, andhad always known when she was struggling even when she tried to hide it.
“I’m excited for you,” he continued, “but I still need you to be careful and check in often so I don’t worry too much.”
“I promise I’ll be safe and stay in touch,” she said, her throat tight with unshed tears. “I’m staying with the leader of the territory here, and he seems very capable.”
Capable.
That was certainly one way to describe Thalric—though it didn’t begin to capture the raw magnetism that had nearly knocked her off her feet, or the way his presence made her feel simultaneously protected and endangered.
“That’s reassuring,” her father said. “I love you, sweetheart. Have an adventure for both of us.”
“I love you too, Dad. I’ll talk to you soon.”
She ended the call before the tears threatening at the corners of her eyes could spill over, setting the communicator down with hands that trembled slightly. She didn’t know why the conversation with her father had made her so emotional—maybe because he was the one person who had always been there for her, who had believed in her even when she’d stopped believing in herself.
TEN
NAVIRA
They hadn’t spoken as much recently, not since she’d started shutting the world out after her injury. It had been easier to retreat into herself than to be vulnerable, easier to pretend she was fine than to admit how lost she’d felt without the structure and intensity of competitive swimming.
But something about Nova Aurora was stripping away those carefully constructed defenses, making her feel raw and exposed in ways she hadn’t experienced in years. This place seemed to demand authenticity, to pull truth from hidden corners of her soul whether she wanted to reveal it or not.
She rose from the desk and moved to the massive windows, pressing her palm against the cool glass as she stared out at the pink ocean that stretched to the horizon. Even from here, she could feel its call—a deep, primal pull that made her want to dive in and lose herself in its depths.
