Married To Darkness - Chapter 394
394: In The Boat 394: In The Boat Before the boat had made it far beyond the wooden fingers of the dock, Jean doubled over the side with a sickly groan and promptly threw up into the sea.
“Great,” Alaric muttered under his breath, keeping one hand on the tiller and the other pinching the bridge of his nose.
“We’ve barely started and she’s already feeding the fish.” Jean waved a shaky hand without looking up, hair whipping around her face as she gagged again.
“Don’t…
talk to me right now.” Lucius crouched beside her, rubbing gentle circles on her back and smirking faintly.
“You were ready to fight city touts and do your archeology job, but a little water makes you weak in the knees?” “Land…
doesn’t move,” she gasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“And bones don’t smell like salt and regret.” The boat rocked gently, gliding further away from the port, the breeze growing braver, warmer, bolder.
The wind carried the scent of the open sea, mingled with the sun-soaked wood beneath their feet. The rhythmic splash of the oars and the quiet creak of the boat’s frame were the only sounds that filled the space between them, save for the occasional distant cry of a gull.
Jess, seated near the middle, leaned back and grinned.
“Did I ever tell you about the time the pirates kidnapped the baron niece because she insulted their hats?” That earned a groan from Alaric, but the others turned to listen.
“She called them ‘mildewed mop buckets,'” Jess continued dramatically, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“So they tied her up with seaweed and left her on a floating barrel with a note that said ‘Respect the drip.'” Even Jean chuckled through her nausea.
“Why does that sound like something you’d do?” Salviana teased Lucius, who only raised a brow and looked unbothered.
As their laughter died down, Salviana leaned against the boat’s edge, letting the sea wind tousle her red hair as her thoughts drifted-far beyond the ripples of water and the tales Jess spun.
Her mind wandered back to the charcoal sketch she had drawn restlessly the night before… strange figures outlined in smudges of grey and black.
Four of them.
A small boat.
The sea.
She blinked slowly.
Was it… them?
Was she unknowingly tracing the path they were walking now?
Was her hand guided by something deeper than imagination?
Or was it simply a coincidence?
Her fingers grazed the edge of her pocket where the folded sketch lay.
Her heart beat a little louder beneath her ribs.
The journey felt…
written.
“Salviana?” Alaric’s voice broke her reverie.
She turned toward him, finding his eyes soft, curious.
“You alright?” “Just thinking,” she murmured.
“About?” She looked out over the waves.
“About how strange and beautiful it is that we’re here.
Heading into the unknown.
Chasing pirates.
Dressed like sea bandits.
And yet somehow, this feels like fate.” Alaric smiled, the kind of smile that meant he understood, even if he didn’t say it out loud.
The sea stretched ahead, endless and mysterious.
The boat bobbed lightly as it carved through the calm waves.
The sun began its climb higher into the sky, painting the ocean in glittering golds.
The wind whispered promises they didn’t yet understand.
The tide was pulling them toward something.
Something big.
Something dangerous.
Something inevitable.
And still, they sailed on.
To the pirates.
To secrets.
To fate.
Let the adventure truly begin.
Jess squinted toward Lucius, who sat toward the back of the boat, holding a sleek black umbrella overhead like a nobleman on holiday-despite the clear skies and blazing sun above.
“Why are you still using that thing?” she asked, blinking against the sunlight.
“You’re on the sea now, not hiding in the shade of some cathedral crypt.” Lucius didn’t so much as glance at her.
His voice, cool and unbothered, floated back like silk dipped in frost.
“Some of us walk through shadows, not because we fear the light, but because it’s kinder.” Jess blinked, clearly unimpressed.
“Okay, Poet of the dark.” she sassed.
Salviana stifled a laugh behind her hand, but Alaric just shook his head, steering the boat steadily forward.
What Jess didn’t know-and what Lucius wouldn’t say-is that his poetic remark wasn’t just theatrics.
Lucius was a trueborn vampire, the kind that had been written out of stories for being too frightening to believe.
While Alaric’s bloodline was tainted with something… older, stranger, less susceptible to the sun, Lucius bore no such mutation.
The sun was his executioner.
He couldn’t let it kiss his skin for long without searing pain, or worse.
It wasn’t about looking dramatic.
It was survival.
Still, he sat calm and composed under his umbrella, the wind tousling the ends of his hair, his face perfectly still, like stone that had learned how to breathe.
The sun rode higher, and the journey stretched on.
And then… slowly… inevitably… the day began to die.
The first signs came as the gold in the sea turned silver.
The sun began to dip, shadows lengthened, and the world grew quieter.
And with that came a chill.
Not the kind that brushed your skin and whispered of nightfall.
This chill sank in, stealing warmth from bones and breath, subtle and swift.
Alaric gave a shiver and rubbed his hands together.
“Why’s it suddenly freezing?” Salviana frowned, arms wrapping instinctively around herself.
“It wasn’t this cold a second ago.” Jess glanced around.
“The wind shifted,” she murmured.
“That happens out here sometimes, but not like this.” Jean grumbled and hugged her coat tighter.
“It’s like the sea exhaled and forgot to stop.” Lucius, finally closing his umbrella now that the sun was setting, leaned back and sighed-almost with relief.
“The night,” he whispered, “is kinder.” But even he furrowed his brow as the cold deepened.
The wind grew sharper, slicing through their garments like ice needles.
It was as though the moment the sun left, the sea remembered its secrets-and none of them were warm.
The vampires, for all their strength, weren’t built for cold.
Their blood didn’t run hot like humans’.
Heat was foreign to them, and the chill seeped in more easily, biting at their edges.
Alaric’s jaw tightened.
Lucius drew his coat closer, hiding the faint tremor in his hand.
Salviana, watching them both, tucked her hands under Alaric’s and gave him a concerned look.
“You okay?”