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Chapter 41

39

VIOLENT TIDES (gxg - editing)

Ainsley's leathery wings dragged along the deck behind her, snagging on splintered wood, like the wet, rumpled wings of a butterfly fresh from its chrysalis. This was no rebirth, though.

Her heart pulsed painfully in the bleeding wounds she bore as she struggled to cross the final few steps towards Gael. Where her hand lay limply on the wood, Gael's fingers twitched, signifying the final sighs of life that still ran through her veins. Ainsley fell to her knees next to her and gathered Gael in her arms.

Overhead, the dragons were taking a swirling flight over the sea, leaving the burning streets of the city behind. The wall in her mind was gone, in shambles after her emotional outburst, and she could feel the consciousnesses of the beasts as they passed—felt their sorrow and rage more clearly than her own, perhaps.

Gael's hand slid into her own, their blood mingling. Her eyes stared up at the drizzling sky, blank and fringed by long, wet lashes. Her hair spilled out of the bandana she used to tie it back, curly and haloed around her head.

Ainsley pulled her closer, pressing a hand to the wound on her stomach. Blood pooled around her fingers and Gael shuddered, a pained expression crossing her face. A single line of dark crimson appeared from the corner of her mouth.

Sobs shook Ainsley's shoulders as she leaned over her, cradling her in her lap, unable to form words. Foggily, as if it were only happening in a dream, she felt the wings beginning to shrivel, shrinking before they fell off entirely. A cold wind pushed against the gaping wounds in the top of her head, brushing against raw and bloody flesh where the horns had withered away. Scales sunk back into her skin, leaving behind bloody continents. Her entire back was warm and sticky with it, too much for even the continual downpour to wash away. Suddenly, she felt smaller than ever before.

"Gael?" She asked, voice hitching and choked. She rested a red-stained hand on her cheek, tried to get her to make eye contact. To look anywhere but at the low, heavy clouds that were mirrored in her blank gaze. "Gael, look at me. Please."

Gael's only response was a soft, slow exhale and a gentle squeeze of Ainsley's hand in hers. Her lips parted, like she wanted to speak, but finally, her eyes fluttered shut instead.

Ainsley held Gael's head against her chest, burying her face in her thick hair as she shuddered with sobs. The pain in her ribcage was sharp and aching, worse than the pain wrought by the bloody lacerations that adorned her body. Her stomach hurt and her eyes and throat burned.

A roar reverberated out over the ocean. Ainsley lifted her head, eyes red and pooling with tears, and looked out, away from Fortra, towards the sound.

In the distance, there was a disturbance in the water.

The sound of wingbeats filled the air and Ainsley ducked instinctively as the army of dragons swept out towards the churning whirlpool, then spun upwards in a vortex of wingbeats that lashed salty spray out in every direction.

And then Ainsley felt another soul touch her own.

It was like when she spoke to dragons, but so much more—like something had been driven straight into her heart. She felt it thudding unnaturally in her chest, every breath trembling on her lips as she held Gael close and stared out towards the water.

Something broke through the surface like a breaching whale.

Water slid off of it in sheets, thundering back to slam against the waves and send foam and saltwater flying. The rain began to lessen as if on command, fading to a steady drizzle.

And still it towered upwards, hundreds of feet of a stony grey surface lunging out from the depths of the sea.

Tall, stone-skinned, and unmistakably humanoid.

Ainsley could only watch in silent awe, mouth agape. Gael's eyes fluttered open again slightly, taking in the scene. On the shore, the surviving soldiers of Fortra's burning city formed a loose, ragged line, all staring out to sea as the once-sleeping titan rose.

Because she was a titan, without a shadow of a doubt.

The dragons swirled around her, perching on her shoulders and head to form a halo of fluttering wings, each of the massive beasts small in comparison to her. She stood in water that reached her waist, feet planted on some deep ocean floor. One hand could have pushed the warship beneath the waves without effort. A draconic pair of horns twisted off from her temples to pierce into the clouds above.

Ainsley, however, found herself unable to look away from her face. It, too, was startlingly human, with full lips, thick and craggy brows, and large eyes, which seemed to be a different colour every time Ainsley actually tried to focus on them. The rest of her was all that same mottled, rocky grey, as though she had been carved from dark marble and brought to life.

Ainsley held onto Gael as tightly as she could, though she didn't shrink back from the sight of the titan. The subconscious connection between them was stronger than any she had felt with a dragon—and it had every right to be. This was her goddess, this was the creator of everything with scales and leathery wings.

But she was losing far too much blood to properly take it all in. Her hands, wrapped around Gael's, felt weak and shaky, and she imagined she could feel her heartbeat slowing. Her breaths were shallow, reluctant. Gael had stopped moving in her arms entirely.

The titan began to move towards the warships, wading through the sea, which streamed out behind her as if in the wake of a boat. She approached the one Ainsley and Gael were huddled on, movement causing it to rock and pitch on the water. The dragon titan's shadow fell across the ship, but Ainsley didn't feel any colder despite the goosebumps that shivered across her skin.

The titan reached out with one massive hand, dark and stony despite the delicate beauty of it. Silvery veins ran just under the surface, pulsing and beating like the wingbeat of a dragon. Her nails were short and rimmed with a white, quartz-like material. Her pinkie finger alone rivalled Ainsley's height.

When the hand reached the deck, drops of rain bouncing from its surface, Ainsley looked up at the titan's face. The moment their eyes met, she understood. She knew.

There was no communication required.

Ainsley slung Gael's arm over her shoulder and used the last dredges of strength she could muster to drag her forwards, up off the deck even as her knees shivered underneath her. Gael's face was ashy, the tint of colour gone from her cheeks and full lips. Her arm hung limp and fragile around Ainsley's shoulder.

Ainsley crumpled the moment she had dragged the two of them onto the outstretched hand. The fingers twitched inwards, the skin where Ainsley sat hard as rock but warm, as though it had laid in the sun all day.

The world shifted and tilted as the titan brought her hand up close to her face, cupping her other hand around the pair she held. This close, Ainsley could make out every detail of her large, shifting eyes and the delicate striations across her skin. Everything had gone strangely silent, even the blood roaring in her ears, even the flapping of wings from where the dragons nestled on the titan's head.

Her charcoal lips lifted faintly, expression softening. Ainsley's heart hurt with a pain more visceral than any of the injuries she bore, and fresh tears poured down her face, mingling with the blood. She wanted to beg, but she couldn't make a sound through the convulsing of her chest.

She didn't need to. Something flowed through them where she sat, cradling Gael, free hand braced against the warm expanse of the titan's palm. Like everything she had ever felt with a dragon, but so much of it. The titan was sad, she could feel it. Sad for her and for Gael. But there was no resignation.

The hand dropped over them until the grey sky disappeared. Ainsley held Gael as close as she could, closing her eyes even as blood dried on her lashes. The air in this small sanctuary was warm and humming with an energy she couldn't place.

Except it was magic, of course. Of course it was.

The cold touch of air against the exposed, flayed flesh on her back and in her hair disappeared, replaced by the warm pulse of blood moving in her veins. Strength surged back into her bones, the pain disappearing. In her arms, Gael whimpered, fingers flexing where Ainsley held them.

She looked down at Gael, at her lover. Her expression began to relax, brows shifting, lashes fluttering. Ainsley touched the wound, where blood had gushed from so furiously mere moments ago. Her hand came back sticky and wet, but no more blood pulsed from the gash. In fact, it was no longer there at all, no matter how much Ainsley searched. Just a large, ragged scar.

Light streamed back in and Ainsley blinked, looking up at the grey sky. The hand had disappeared. She and Gael were somehow back on the destroyed deck of the warship, still entangled in one another's arms. The titan was leaning back, smiling again, drops of rain bouncing from her shoulders and cheekbones.

No audible gratitude was necessary. She knew. They both did.

With a slight nod, the godly woman turned and strode back towards the horizon, haloed in light where the clouds opened. The dragons burst from her head and shoulders with a rustling of wings and she dove back underneath, unleashing a wave that rolled towards shore.

Ainsley looked down at Gael as the boat bobbed over the tide. A healthy flush had come over her face, her eyes beginning to open. She moved her head, which rested in the crook of Ainsley's elbow, and blinked up at her, as if she had just woken from a nap.

"Ainsley?"

Ainsley, smiling through her tears, grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close, wrapping her arms around her. After a moment, Gael's hands found her, tangling in the ragged and bloody strands of her hair. With her cheek nestled against Gael's head of curly locks, Ainsley looked out towards the city once more.

The dragons were leaving, swooping low to touch their wingtips to the water before plunging up into the clouds. The city burned, but the soldiers were beginning to gather on its shores. On the wall above, Ainsley thought she could make out the shape of a pirate, or maybe two of them. And maybe a soldier she would have recognized if she were closer.

Letting out a breath that seemed to settle her beating heart, she nestled her nose in the crook of Gael's neck and breathed in the smell of blood and saltwater that still lingered there. Content to sit and hold her, and just breathe. Breathe and revel in the fact that Gael was breathing, too, and that she could feel her heartbeat, slow but steady, pulsing against her fingertips.

i hope this chapter excited you all as much as it excited me to write it!! it was easily one of my favourites to write for obvious reasons. this wraps up the real chapters, so leave a vote and a comment and then keep reading for an epilogue! <3

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