Page 3

The prince tossed his head back in pain a moment before he flipped his sword and stabbed backward.

Time seemed to stand still, and Mer clung to the rope, not believing her eyes.

The sword protruded just to the left of Ream’s spine.

Her husband stumbled toward the edge of the deck. The prince spun and brutally yanked his sword from Ream before kicking him in the chest.

A scream tore from Mer as her husband toppled over the railing and into the choppy waters.

No, no, no, no, no.

This wasn’t happening.

Mer released the ladder and dove into the water. Debris from damaged ships and bodies littered the waves as she propelled forward as fast as she could. A sharp pain bit into her side, pulling her from her panic. Someone had tried to shoot her with a harpoon.

She popped her head just above the surface, her eyes scanning the area.

A Scythian soldier, with his eerily perfect face, grinned at her from a nearby ship. She narrowed her eyes and pointed a nail at him. She wouldn’t forget his face. He’d pay for every drop of blood he shed later.

Mer dove deep, frantically scanning the area for Ream.

Their enemies had wised up to their underwater attacks and now hunted the Sirenidae. Their bright silver hair made them easy targets, especially at night.

Ream, where are you? Please be okay.

As if her prayer had been answered, Mer spotted her husband in the murky water.

He sank slowly, silvery blood leaking from his chest in winding tendrils.

He was losing too much blood. She needed to get him somewhere safe immediately.

Mer dug deep, adrenaline surging through her body as she sped ahead and caught him under his arms. Her stomach sank as she saw the extent of his wounds. She needed healing herbs from the trenchnow.

She hauled him away from the warship toward the coral beds. A sandy cover with a circular wall of blood coral would do well to protect them while Ream was so vulnerable. No beast nor Scythian could reach them there. While the striped leviathans were normally friends, that could easily be washed away in the frenzy of blood and battle.

Her knees hit the white sand, as she laid Ream down. He groaned and pressed his hands against the wound, his handsome face creased in pain. She brushed hair away from his paling cheeks before moving around to his side. Sand swirled through the water as Mer fluttered her fingers over his wound.

It was huge.

“A broadsword?” she growled, glaring at the raw edges of the cut. “How can I help you? Tell me what to do.”

Ream was the healer, not her.

He shook his head.

Mer frowned at him before squeezing his hand. The damage was too severe to do anything of use. “I’m going for help. Hang on. I’ll be back soon.”

She released his hand and began climbing to her feet when Ream caught her fingers in his own.

“Don’t go.”

“I have to.”

He shook his head again. “There’s not much time.”

Her pulse began to race. “Don’t say such things. You’re going to be fine.” She gave him a stern look.

“We must speak. This is important.”