Chapter 13

Chapter 13
Jax's POV

I slipped through the window with practiced ease, landing smoothly before dusting off my coat and looking up—only to lock eyes with the girl called Celeste.

"Whoa, 'holy and magnificent' star girl," I said with a shrug. "That was quite the performance just now. All that 'you were born divine' and 'the outside world is too filthy'—Jesus, I got goosebumps listening from outside the window."

Celeste's face went deathly pale as she instinctively stepped back. "You... who are you? Why were you eavesdropping?!"

I leaned against the windowsill, brushing the dust from my jacket.

"Please. You were loud enough that I couldn't not hear. That Quillan's a real pro—lifts you up to the heavens while washing your brain squeaky clean. 'Only here are you safe'? Give me a break. That's what a jailer tells a prisoner."

"You... you shouldn't be here." Celeste's voice trembled. "This is sacred ground. Mortals are forbidden—"

I rolled my eyes. "Cut the act. I don't see any gods here, just one poor, battered, trapped girl."

"No... it's not like that." Celeste rushed to defend him. "Quillan is protecting me. He says it's dangerous outside—"

"Dangerous?" I scoffed. "Yeah, it's dangerous. But that's because people have choices—choosing to take risks, choosing to make mistakes, choosing freedom. You? You don't even get the chance to choose."

The words hit Celeste like a hammer to the chest.

She froze, her lips moving but no sound coming out.

I figured I'd said something she'd never considered before...

Watching the girl's suddenly lost expression, my mocking impulse faded.

I sighed, pulling out my tin flask and oil-paper package, then sat down beside her.

"Alright, quit moping." I grabbed that rock-hard black bread and tossed it out the window with disgust. "Even slum dogs won't eat that crap." I unwrapped the oil paper, revealing several pieces of fried fish that gave off a greasy aroma. "Here, eat something normal people eat. I'm not here to lecture you—I was just being chased and ran in here to hide. Honestly, whether you're doing fine or not is none of my business."

Celeste stared at the fried fish, frowning. "What... what is this?"

I blinked. "You've never had fried fish?"

She shook her head. "Quillan says I can only eat the purest foods. Street food is... unclean."

I nearly laughed out loud. "Unclean? This is dock workers' favorite!" I grabbed a piece and popped it in my mouth. "Mm, today's batch is pretty fresh."

Celeste hesitantly reached out and picked up a small piece. She took a careful bite—the crispy coating, tender fish meat, coarse salt grains—all the flavors mixed together, creating a sense of "realness" she'd never experienced before.

Her eyes went wide, and then she quickly devoured the entire piece.

Watching her wolf it down, I couldn't help but laugh. "Slow down, nobody's fighting you for it."

I held out the tin flask. "Want some?"

Celeste took the bottle and sniffed it. The sharp smell made her wrinkle her nose. "What is this?"

"Rum," I said. "Bottom-dwellers' liquid joy."

Celeste hesitantly took a small sip—the liquid slid down her throat like a fire burning into her stomach.

She coughed violently, tears streaming from her eyes.

I laughed. "Ha ha ha! First time drinking? Your reaction is priceless!"

Celeste glared at me with a red face, but the corner of her mouth lifted involuntarily.

The expression on the girl's face wasn't shame at "making a fool of herself," but genuine amusement.

"Come on," I patted the windowsill. "Sit here."

Celeste was hesitant at first, but after my repeated invitations, she gathered her courage and sat beside me on the windowsill.

The sea breeze blew past, carrying away the day's oppression. We passed the tin flask back and forth, looking out at the distant sea.

I suddenly asked, "Do you really believe that 'you're a god' bullshit your father feeds you?"

Celeste was silent for a moment. "I... don't know. Quillan says I can hear the wind's voice. It's a gift from the divine."

"Hear the wind?" My interest piqued. "What does that mean?"

Celeste closed her eyes. "It's... the wind tells me many things. Like when it will rain, when storms will hit the sea. But every time I listen, I feel... so much pain. The winds carry too much—fear, despair, death..."

I frowned. "So that Quillan uses this ability of yours to make you play goddess in Free Haven?"

Celeste nodded. "He says people need hope. Without me, they'd die in the storms."

"Fuck," I muttered. "So he keeps you locked up here under the guise of protection, but really he's just afraid his cash cow will run away?"

Celeste was shocked by my crude language, but even more shocked to realize—she couldn't refute it.

She asked softly, "What... what do you think I am?"

I looked at her, unusually serious. "I think you're a girl who's been locked up so long she's forgotten she's human."

"Human..." Celeste tasted the word as if hearing it for the first time.

I raised the tin flask. "Here's to you—to the day you figure out you're not some bullshit goddess, just a regular person. Regular people get hungry, get tired, want to eat stinky street fish, want to drink cheap rum, want to curse, want to run away."

Celeste stared at the bottle I held up, hesitating for a long time before taking another sip herself.

Just then, Celeste suddenly covered her ears, her expression crumbling in pain.

Seeing her like that, something clenched inexplicably in my chest—shit, what's happening? Are those winds tormenting her again?

I didn't know where the impulse came from, but I just couldn't stand seeing her about to cry like that, so I reached out and covered her ears with my hands.

She went completely rigid, her eyes flying wide open, her face instantly flushing like it was about to catch fire.

Only then did I realize what I was doing—my palms pressed near her cheeks, I could feel the warmth of her skin and her breathing quickening with nervousness.

Shit, what am I doing?

But I didn't pull my hands away. For some reason, it just felt like the right thing to do.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice lower than usual.

"My ears..." Celeste said softly, her voice carrying a tremor I'd never heard before. "Have never been this quiet."

Her eyes looked at me, holding something I couldn't quite name. Not fear, not resistance, more like... surprise? Gratitude? I couldn't tell.

My heartbeat inexplicably sped up. The feeling was strange, so strange it made me a little panicked. I'd never been this close to a girl before—her eyelashes were long, fluttering in the moonlight, my reflection caught in her eyes.

Just as I didn't know what to say, my peripheral vision caught the gates at the base of the lighthouse opening.

Three guards followed the Silver Moon Pack's Alpha inside, Quillan greeting them at the entrance with that standard merchant's smile plastered on his face.

My heart jumped as I quickly pulled my hands away from Celeste's ears. Shit!