Page 12 of In Rising Tides

Please let it help.

“Possibly,” Otto whispered, as his eyes cleared at last. “There are too many decisions yet to be made.”

Baelwyn appeared beside Wilder. “I can have the horses ready within an hour. Unless you’d rather wait until the morning?” He nodded his head to the dwindling sunlight that seeped through the stained-glass windows.

Wilder shook his head. He couldn’t fathom waiting one more second in this throne room while she was being dragged back to Atlantis.

He needed to be doing something, anything, that was in line with their goals, and waiting here was unfathomable. His heart thumped within the recesses of his chest. Each pump sounded like a knock in an empty room.

“I can’t …” Wilder murmured, not being able to meet the empathy in the king’s gaze.

Baelwyn gave him a quick nod and patted Wilder on the shoulder as he began doling out rapid orders. He turned once more to Wilder, who appeared nailed to the marble floor.

“We’ll get her back, son.”

The confidence in his words had Wilder peeling his feet from the floor. Turning on his heel, he moved with a quickened pace towards the throne room doors. He had to pack, and quickly.

“Wilder,” Titania’s voice halted him in his tracks. “Keep your wits about you. Do not lead with emotion, but with a clear and level head. You will do her no favors if you become lost to your grief.”

Her words struck a chord deep within him, nearly as deep as his duty was his love for her, and he knew now what would win out if it ever came to blows.

The murmurings in the throne room followed him as he left, twisting with the orders Queen Titania doled out.

“Make ready the ships and man the watchtowers?—”

Wilder’s strides were thunderous as he propelled himself towards his room. It would take time to ready the horses and pack supplies, but he didn’t want to stall for a single second.

Anxiety curled around his chest, making his breathing difficult as he shoved his extra clothes into a bag.

When he had his belongings together and nothing else to do, he placed a hand on his chest. His heart was pumping between his fingertips, and he focused on the steady beat.

But flashes of images from the beach and the terror in her eyes in those final moments plagued him.

Wilder thought back to happier times. To their first moments together and the fire that burned within her. It was a fire that no sea kingdom would extinguish.

Air filled his lungs as he managed a deep breath at last.

Hewouldsee her again.

No matter what, he would make sure she was safe.

Wilder couldn’t stand to sit there while the others readied their horses, so he dropped his bags with Ridge and headed for the shoreline—where they had last stood together.

He took the crumbling stairs to the rocky shore as gusts of wind whipped his hair into his face. He clawed it away, nearly slipping on the slick stairs.

Wilder unfurled the magic from his chest, silencing the wind with a small tendril of his power. His boots crunched small rocks and even smaller shells as he reached the bottom of the stairs and set off to where they had sat together.

The brine in the air held the allure of her being just out of his reach. It soothed the jagged edge of his sorrow that perceived proximity to her.

Traveling to the Wilds would be a testament to his strength. He sank to his knees before the surf. The water nearly reached him before retreating.

The moon was swollen in the sky, its glow absorbed by thin clouds that cast the light in a halo. A smattering of stars was just barely visible overhead.

Wilder turned towards its reflection against the swelling tide, but a glimmer of blue in the sand caught his eye. He scooped it up and froze.

It was Lyra’s sapphire shell necklace.

The thin chain was cold against his palm as he gripped the dainty jewel in his hand.