Page 83

“Take your pain and turn it against them. For the sake of everyone else, for the sake of Wychwood,” Seraphine said, looking deep into my eyes. “We need you, Robin.”

Seraphine didn’t need me. She needed mypower. And when I opened my eyes, the tears crystalising to blades of ice on my cheeks, it was ready for release. I had no words. Nothing to say. If I opened my mouth, the winter inside of me would’ve consumed the entire ship.

Which, from her knowing grin, was exactly what Seraphine wanted.

I turned to the door, knowing Seraphine followed like a shadow. It wasn’t until I stepped out on steady feet, my heart pounding a beat in my bones, that I let the power free.

All of it.

Not an ounce was spared as I welcomed the ice-cold hate in my heart, gathered it up and encased the entirefuckingship in it.

CHAPTER 20

I was a weapon. A thoughtless, emotionless void of a creature. I was winter and pain. I might not have held the Icethorn key beneath my bones anymore, my magic could no longer freeze the ocean or turn the sky to ice.

But what I had was enough –Iwas enough.

And I held nothing back.

It didn’t take much to locate the Nephilim. I followed the raucous sound of laughter, the clinking of tankards and the drunk singing. Seraphine stayed close, her presence my shadow. It was only when we were outside of a door, the room beyond full of off-duty Nephilim, that she finally stopped me.

“Don’t waste your energy on these Nephilim,” she warned. “Because you have an entire guard on deck to deal with next. Be cautious with your attack, stay sensitive to your reserves.”

Hearing her worries aloud only further proved that I wasn’t the powerful wielder of storm and snow that I once was. And yet her concerns were something I’d already contemplated. “I have a plan.”

Seraphine didn’t ask me what it was, but if she had, the answer would’ve been simple.

Revenge. Suffering.

To cause these people the same agony that warred inside of me.

My victims were unaware that death waited outside the door. I was in the lower decks of the ship; and before me was a room occupied by the Nephilim which must’ve been some sort of mess hall. I got a glimpse of the celebration through the circular window in the door. There was a table full of food, tankards full of ale, but more importantly, seats overspilling with winged warriors.

Alcohol tainted the air – lathering my tongue with each inhale.

Theycelebrated whilst Althea was captured, and Elinor was dead. They drank as though they’d won already.

Oh, how wrong they were.

I grasped the handle of the door. Ice crept over the brass knob, passing up and over the wooden frame until not only the door, but the entire portion of wall was encased in my power. For good measure, I called upon the moisture inside of the lock and froze it solid. Mist hissed into the room, quickly catchingmyprisoners’ attention. They looked up through frosted glass to see my outline.

That is when their shouts began.

Like living butterflies pinned to cork boards, the Nephilim began to squirm.

Their joyous shouts turned to screams of anger and terror as my winter devoured the room. A carpet of ice swept over the floor, encasing the legs of chairs. Those who were unlucky enough to be standing found themselves frozen up to their waist. The Nephilim in chairs were worse off as flesh and material forged to wood. One of them screamed as they attempted to stand, tearing away the backs of their legs in the process.

I relaxed my power, keeping it to the surface whilst allowing it some rest. Before their shrieks got the attention of the Nephilim above deck, I needed Seraphine to do something.

“Go and free the rest of us who can fight,” I commanded. It was an almost out-of-body experience, to hear the numb emotion in my voice. I imagined what I looked like to Seraphine – someone lost to grief. I wanted to ask who was on that list, which one of my loved ones hung from chains on this very ship – but I feared the answer I would get.

Most of all, I feared that Seraphine would miss out a name from my list.

Knowing Althea was alive was enough, but recognising Elinor Oakstorm – the person that I looked most to as my second chance at having a mother – was deadruinedme.

“I’d prefer to stay with you,” Seraphine said as dust rained down through the panelled ceiling above her. Thunderous footsteps sounded as the Nephilim made their way to us. “It is safer to fight them off before we–”

“Leave,” I replied, managing only one word.