40. AURELIA

Chapter forty

AURELIA

A s we reached the island, we were encompassed by lush green foliage covering its surface. Moss-covered rocks peppered the shoreline. Delicate flowers splashed colors in between crevices through the mountain that stood tall in the center.

Spending hours looking for the egg along the shorelines and around the base of the mountain, we couldn't see anything.

Nothing.

With nighttime around the corner, we took a break, resuming in the morning. We found a secluded area to camp. It was off to the side where the bushes on the exterior of the mountain hung low, greenery covering every inch beside the patches of rocks, so even if people were to use tools to see us closer, they wouldn't be able to see us or our fire.

The sky grew dark, and the moon flickered over the waves of the water, reminding us of its presence.

Damian had set up a fire near the base of the rocks, and Belle was curled up close. I felt absolutely disgusted and couldn't go another day without washing. There was still mud from one of the first days that clung to my clothes and my ears, and I could still feel the cuts on my body when I was sliced by each of the men.

The water reflected the large full moon above, drifting from side to side with the waves. The idea of passing the surface was a daunting one, but the smell of my own skin was making me nauseous.

Belle's breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm as she nestled into herself, her tail curled snugly around her body near the fire.

"Damian, I am going to wash. Shall you be a gentleman and turn around?"

Damian grinned at me. Not a lustful grin, but a kind and generous one–maybe even a mocking one. "Of course, my Queen," he bowed as he said so, and I scoffed at him.

"Stop it!" I said jokingly. "I'll be back."

The water was only about ten feet away. Damian had turned, and I started to strip the pink bodice and black pants that clung to my body, which were as disgusting as ever.

I stripped and was half-naked, wearing only my underthings. Glancing at Damian, he was poking a stick into the flames, making them combust small sparks into the air. He looked distracted enough.Turning to face the water, I saw my reflection on its surface and didn't recognize myself. I looked awful. Bloody, beaten, and dirty.

My toes dipped first into the water, testing the temperature. The cold liquid was freezing, however, I needed to clean myself in order to continue any further on the journey. The cuts across my skin concerned me, not wanting to get an infection. I waded deeper into the water until it was up to my knees, then my waist, and then until it covered my breasts, the water reaching my neck. I took time in intervals for my body to grow accustomed to the temperature of it. However, I had never been in anything like the ocean, and it scared me more than I was willing to admit.

Fear curdled in my stomach that I would be eaten alive by some creatures beneath my feet, or that the water would suck me into its core, never letting me complete my quest. Or something dragging me to the darkest pit of the ocean, drowning me before even knowing my fate.

I shuddered, thinking of my fears, and quickly brushed them aside, anchoring myself in the grainy sand, unwilling to let the feral waves take me with them.

The sand felt soft in between my toes, and seaweed tickled my body as I inched further into the depths of the sea, wrapping around my ankles. It made me nervous initially, but I relaxed, trying to calm myself.

Dunking my head under the water the moment I felt comfortable to do so, I brushed my fingers through my pink hair, attempting to get the grime out. The water had slowly come to a pause, the waves calm, allowing me to brush the cold water over my face, and to blow air out of my mouth, small bubbles popping to the surface.

I stepped onto the sand, trying to push myself upright. As I did, the sand shifted and slipped away beneath my toes, revealing a gap under my feet. The particles dispersed, leaving nothing for me to grasp as I struggled to reach the air above the water.

My heart pounded against my chest as a chill ran down my spine, and my breath caught in my throat. I didn't know how to swim. I was drowning. This was what it felt like. My arms were wailing around me, fighting to find the surface and to have so much as a gasp of air. My legs tried to kick, but I couldn't find myself propelling forward, only downward.

Every last bubble held in my mouth sprinkled up to the surface, where they would then disappear before my eyes. Only a moment passed, and I could feel my lungs being filled with the cold water, sinking me further to the deep floor of the ocean. My organs felt like anchors, dragging me further beyond the grasps of relief.

The seaweed was taking me whole as I sank toward it, the pieces wrapping me up. Fighting to reach the surface, I kicked and slashed to be released out of the grasp of the grimy kelp around me.

My limbs couldn't move quickly enough. The water through my fingertips slipped from my grasp, doing nothing to save my sinking body.

Right when I felt the last bubble release from my mouth and my arms flaming in pain, I saw something splash in the water. Was it a fish?

It was Damian. I could see his dark hair flowing in the murkiness of the bubbles. He came down and grabbed my hand, which was held high above my head. My last hope.

Relief brimmed my heart as he pulled me up, my face breaking the surface and gasping for air. Salt stung my eyes, a sensation I hadn't felt before. My toes touched the hardened and solid sand beneath my feet, allowing me to hold myself up. However, my legs were too wobbly, making it difficult to stand up straight. The water still felt as if it were pounding in ferocious waves, forcing the salt water down my throat.

He grabbed my arm and draped it around his body, picking me up once we reached a shallower area. His hand placement was careful around the cuts that ran deep along the surface of my skin. He held my back with one arm and the crevice under my knees with the other. Coughing, water sputtered from my lips.

It was when my body was all the way out of the water, and Damian was treading through mere shallow water, that I had the realization that I was half-naked.

I wanted him to set me down and not touch my body, but I was still coughing up water, and I knew that my knees would give out the second he let me down.

As we advanced toward the wooden timber besetting the fire, he sat me down on a log and draped his dry shirt over my body, covering the goosebumps that began to break through my skin.

Taking notice of his body, I found he was also only in his underthings, his abdomen sculpted in fine lines like a carved statue that would've been found in a Celestial garden.

"I am so embarrassed," I said, trying to normalize my breathing.

"Don't be. It's my fault. What if I didn't catch you in time? What if—"

"But you did, Damian," I said, intentionally saying his name, raising my fingers to his face, feeling it tremble beneath my touch, and realizing that something was different. Our gazes locked, his eyes hinting at a flicker of vitality within. It was as if I saw something behind his eyes that wasn't just a dark portal to Haxnau 1 . It was as if I wasn't just his prize anymore, or his golden catch. It seemed as if he actually cared about me.

Nervously, I averted my gaze, casting my eyes downward. My hand was still against his cheek, thumbing away each droplet of water that remained. Gradually, our shivers subsided as the water evaporated from our bodies. The trembling in his body ceased beneath my fingers.

"But I know that you were excited to be in the water." My eyes glanced back to his, to the depth of them and the warmth of them. "I appreciate that about you," he said, his own fingers reaching the damp hair plastered to my forehead as he moved pieces to the side, uncovering the pink strands from my eyes.

I looked at him, curious. "What about me?"

"The liveliness about you. I love the way you view the world: carefree and curious." I smiled at his kind remarks. "You're beautiful, too. Your personality, your spirit, and your looks. Everything about you is beautiful." He shook his head. "Of course, you would be the one born with golden blood. I don't know why you would want to get rid of it. It's unique and one of a kind, like you. I don't need any gold. I've already found it." He took my face into his hands, staring into my eyes, my fingers trailing his neck. His dark irises, gazing down to my lips, betrayed fervent desire encased in his face as was found on mine.

His touch made me feel secure and like I was the only person in the world. The fire danced in his eyes. I saw myself in his irises, and for the first time, I didn't see myself as just a Scaleborne or him, just a human. I saw us as just a boy and a girl, starting to go mad for each other.

He cupped my face tighter, and I leaned into the motion as he looked away. His knee moved up and down, and his fingers went back to small trembles, as they held my face. His mind was racing. He glanced back down.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice draped in remorse.

"For what, Damian? You've saved me."

"I'm sorry for underestimating you."

"What do you mean? I just almost drowned," I scoffed, confused.

"For underestimating your strength. Your determination. This isn't easy for me to say. It isn't easy to allow my heart to beat again. To allow any part back into it." His eyes glistened, and I understood. I understood the pain that dwelt behind them. The past that haunted him. I thought of the locket that he threw into the water, the knife that he gave me, the promise he made to protect me, the part of his heart he spoke of was a piece of me.

The dimple that I knew rested on his cheek remained hidden by the earnestness of his expression. "But I would go to Haxnau and back to protect you. I would go to Haxnau and back to call you mine," he said as he looked up at me and stared into my eyes. It was the type of longing stare that I could get lost in for hours, the stare that encapsulated my heart.

Butterflies fluttered through my stomach, rising in my throat, and my feelings for him surfaced. He continued to look at me, moving closer and closer, almost to the brink of kissing me.

Tracing my fingers along the tattoos on his neck, I raised my hand to his face, sealing the gap between us. Flames enveloped our bodies, the heat arising under our skin as his hands wrapped around my face. It was as though he couldn't pull me closer. Nails dug into my thighs and neck, making me want and crave him even more. Things felt different, and all I wanted was him in my arms.

He bit my lip, drawing a small amount of blood. I gasped, not expecting it, but leaned in, hungering for more of his touch. His bite exhilarated me, reminding me he was rough and dark, which was something that I didn't know I needed until he touched me–until he made me feel alive.

I desired the shadow about him. I itched for this side of Damian and the contrast that he brought to me. I wanted him to be a killer for me. I realized I finally accepted him for what he was and him with me.

Feeling complete contentment, we didn't care about our surroundings. We kissed for a long time, my mouth going numb from his touch. The world stood still as our mouths met, hungering for each other. The wind rushed past, the moon glided across the sky, the flames of the fire flickered, and my only thoughts were on him. Damian's touch. Damian's heart. My heart. It was the first time I felt my golden blood didn't define who I was.

1. Haxnau (Hah-nah-woo): Hell