Chapter 93
As the yacht’s hull scraped against the sandy shoreline, the group disembarked with a collective sense of wary relief. They stepped onto a jetty dominated by massive, jagged cliffs and a roaring Atlantic surf that felt entirely different from the waters they had just escaped.
Walking toward a paved overlook, they searched for any indication of their location until they came across a weathered sign: Santa Maria - Sao Miguel Ferry (Closed).
“Where are we?” Rylee asked, her arms tightening around Aurora as the cool ocean breeze whipped her damp hair across her face.
“I think we’re on an island in Portugal,” Warlord noted, his eyes scanning the horizon. He recognized the legendary surf of Nazaré; they were a long way from the coast of Maryland.
“Great. Does anyone actually spea
