Chapter 63: Catching up on the Past in the Pass

Troy

Three weeks had passed since we left Dianny, three weeks spent maneuvering through the shallow, unforgiving waters of the Southern Pass. There came a point in time where we were forced to cut the engines, pulling the underwater propellers back into the ship so they wouldn’t scrape against the seemingly endless reef that stretched for miles

It was a slow, arduous journey, sailing with only one sail opened to the wind to ensure we had time to catch any dangers lurking in the shallows

We passed a handful of shipwrecks, the rotting remains of both modern and ancient crafts sticking out of the shallow surf. It was an eerie place, even with the sun beating down on us and turning the water a clear, vivid turquoise. It would have been a tropical paradise if not for the ghosts whispering up from the water, telling us to turn around

I had been spending most of my days above deck, standing at the helm and sketching the landscape. There were no living maps of the southern pass Even the radar in the engine room was running blindly plagued by constant errors. I meant to map the area, take note of every island and curve of the distant shore of the Southern Jungle we were following south Pete had

taken up residence in the engine room, proving to have a knack for the technology that both – Keaton and I had struggled with for years. That had been Robbie’s job

And Keaton was taking a sabbatical, in his own words, making me interim first captain of the Persephone. Keaton and Myla had been holed up in his stateroom day in and day out, no doubt enjoying some peace and privacy to know and explore each other.

But I wasn’t alone, not ever. The crew was constantly above deck, their curiosity about the unfamiliar landscape too strong to keep them on task. Even Duck followed me around like a shadow, not used to being off land for so long. He was constantly getting his head stuck between the railing posts as he peered down at the water, but he did entertain the crew. They had been teaching the animal tricks and tossing a ball made of knotted linen back and forth across the deck, laughing as Duck jumped several feet in the air to try to catch it mid-flight, always missing.

And there was Maeve, who should have been resting but couldn’t sit still for longer than a few minutes at a time. She was always fluttering about, bugging me with questions about the maps and sticking her legs through the railings as she watched the water below.

She was restless, and the long journey was proving to be too much for her mind to handle. She was starting to break down a bit, racked with guilt and worrying nonstop about her parents. Despite the danger involved, I was regretting not finding a way to get word to her family that she was safe, that she would come back to them.

And that made me wonder if I would go with her, back to Winter Forest. Surely, I would. I was the father of her children, of course. Would that be enough to stop Alpha King Ethan from wringing my neck and hanging me from whatever fortress he lived in to make an example out of me?

I blanched at the idea of meeting her father. Her mother sounded nice, sweet, and would probably be more welcoming. But Alpha King Ethan…

And then there was Rowan, her brother. I winced at the thought of meeting him. If he was anything like his sister, I was in for a world of hurt.

But nothing was going to stop me from being with Maeve, from being a father to our children.

From making her my wife.

I hadn’t brought any of this up to her, of course. Our conversations had been lighthearted and easy since we began our journey south. We had been filling in the gaps that were left from the rushed beginnings of our relationship, making up for lost time, in a way.

I found out her favorite color was purple, and that her favorite food was rice. When I told her rice wasn’t necessarily a food and more of a side, she protested, happy to argue her point for nearly

an hour. I found out she had never learned to ride a bike, that she hadn’t learned to tie her shoes until she was almost ten years old, and that when she was twelve, she had attempted to run away, hell-bent on having a sweeping, romantic adventure like she had read about in one of her frilly romance novels she so desperately loved. Alpha King Ethan had actually packed her a lunch and sent her on her way, only for her to return several hours later vexed from a badly scraped knee and her lunch stolen by seagulls.

Most of all, I had confirmed what I already knew was true. Maeve was a menace. And she would likely harass me for the rest of my life as she had her parents and brother.

She told me all about them. My favorite story was about a bat that she had spent the better part of four hours trying to catch with a fishing net. She did eventually catch the poor creature and took it inside their house. She tripped on the stairs, and the bat got loose, hiding in Rowan’s room for several days before Ethan could finally flush it out.

“Then we fought about what to do with it,” she said, rolling over in bed to look at me. “I wanted to keep it.copy right hot novel pub