Page 29

Esmyra

K ing Rowe stood upon the dais at the far end of the ballroom, a golden goblet raised in his hand. The music stopped and the whispers of the court fell away into an eerie hush.

Esmyra’s grip on Draevyn tightened as he thrashed against her mental hold. She could feel him trying to ignite her siren’s spell in his flames, but his features remained in a distant daze beneath her grasp.

Esmyra moved her gaze from Draevyn toward the king, her pulse quickening beneath her calm facade. She came to this castle for a reason, but now she feared she’d dallied too long.

“Lords and ladies of all kingdoms!” the king boomed, his voice echoing through the grand hall. “Tonight is a night of celebration, not only for my son choosing his bride and future queen but for the justice the Realm of Rymelle has long awaited.”

Her heart stilled as blood rushed to her ears.

“Tonight,” the king said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, “we have captured the scourge of the seas—the infamous pirate, Captain Cyrus Blackwood.”

Esmyra scanned the room and found that every member of her crew already had their gazes locked on her, looking for orders. She thought she would have more time to reconvene with Jak, but that was out of the question now. The king was about to put her father on display for the realm to see.

Guards were posted everywhere, and the shadow-wielding prince was at his father’s side.

They were surrounded by too many swords.

Without being in the sea to summon the full extent of her power and being unable to place the entire room in a trance, she was stuck—her father was stuck, and it was entirely her fault.

She swallowed hard, her thoughts racing.

She had to find a way to save her father.

He was the only family she had, the only person who knew what she truly was beneath the guise of her wicked beauty.

The only one who had ever understood her.

His lies barely mattered to her anymore, not at that moment.

She’d recklessly left her captain and crew unattended and abandoned them for days, and now he was captured by the realm’s most vicious king.

The clink of chains forced her out of her thoughts as the guards dragged her father into the hall and put him on display on a tall, wooden structure that was wheeled in beside the dais.

Gasps rang out in every corner of the room as they took in the sight of Cyrus as he stood as a prisoner of the Lephyrin crown.

Blackwood was beaten and bloody, his form haggard.

He gasped for air as his cursed lungs betrayed him, but only his crew knew why.

His clothes were torn to shreds, appearing more like a beggar man dragged in from the streets than the feared pirate king.

Esmyra was desperate to act, to spring into motion and free him as she held Draevyn in a trance.

Her magic flared as her mind churned with possibilities—if she could break the spell she held on the prince to incite chaos, perhaps she could lead her father to The Night Wraith .

But she had entrapped her greatest threat in this room beneath her spell.

If she were to release her hold on him, she would risk him igniting her entire crew in flames the second a move was made.

Cyrus’s eyes met hers then. He had seen her, standing at the center of it all, the king’s son her puppet. A flash of understanding passed between them. There was no anger in his gaze—only regret and a father’s love .

“You no longer need to fear the seas of Rymelle! For Captain Cyrus Blackwood is now my prisoner, and his beast that answers only to his call is nowhere to be seen!”

Esmyra rolled her eyes at that. She gritted her teeth as she watched the king rub his rotund stomach in satisfaction while he guzzled down his wine in celebration.

The king’s voice rose again, cutting through her thoughts. “We end this here and now!”

A noose lowered from the ceiling, halting directly before her father’s throat. Her eyes flared, and her vision sharpened as they shifted, losing what was left of her composure. She then saw the makeshift stage for what it was—a replica of the gallows.

Gasps of horror rang out in all directions, but they were accompanied by cheers of triumph. Cheers to end her father’s life.

The king was bloody mad . He had to have been. This ball was only held for his son to find a bride, and now, it would hold an execution—or an attempted one. His curse wouldn’t allow death to claim him, but this would only cause him more suffering.

Esmyra’s eyes flew to Jak, and he was moving before she even had to give him a signal, shoving his way through the crowd to get to her, but everyone was in too much shock at the scene occurring before them to notice.

The guards dragged Cyrus forward, and she could see the hatred etched into the faces of those around her as they cheered for him to meet his end.

There would be no mercy.

Her breath caught in her throat. She had to do something.

The knotted rope was tightened around her father’s neck.

A tear slipped from her eye as he gave her a look that seemed to say, leave me here and run while you can .

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, shaking her head. “But I cannot do that.” Disappointment crept into her father’s stare at her refusal to abandon him here.

Jak reached her then, eyes frantic. “Do you have a plan?” he huffed in her face.

Her taloned nails slid from the tips of her fingers as she glanced side-to-side, watching her crew also make their way to the center of the crowd.

“I have one, but it’s mad ,” she whisper-shouted.

“Well, it’s all we’ve got, Esmi.”

Her eyes moved to Draevyn, who stood frozen under her trance, his magic thrashing against her mental hold. “Get ready to run,” she whispered to Jak. “With him.”

It all happened so fast—the creak of the guard pulling the gallows’ lever filtered through the room as she dropped her hold on Lephyrin’s Phoenix and shoved him into her friend.

Any word Draevyn moved to say died at the edge of his tongue as Jak slammed a pistol into the side of his head, knocking him unconscious.

Time slowed as gasps erupted from all sides. She reached for a dagger strapped to one of the guests beside her, ripping it from his sheath faster than he could notice.

And then she was running.

“ MOVE ,” she bellowed, and the crowd parted for her.

Esmyra watched in horror as her father’s body fell, the crowd waiting with bated breath for the inevitable snap of his neck.

With all her might, Esmyra gripped the dagger’s hilt in her hand and hurled the blade toward the platform.

Time continued to slow as she watched the dagger spiral through the air until it sliced through the noose above her father’s head.

The rope never went taut, and the sound of snapping bones never came, as Cyrus’s body dropped to the ballroom’s marble floor.

Chaos erupted.

Screams came from all directions as the crowd dispersed, desperately seeking a way out of the ballroom, but Esmyra could barely hear them over the blood rushing in her ears.

Men swarmed her father as the king bellowed blubbering nonsense, his plump face red and riddled with rage.

His guards shielded him and his heir, rushing them off the dais and out one of the side doors.

Esmyra’s feet were moving a moment later, bringing her closer to the front. Her crew sprang into action, weapons drawn as they fought through the panicked masses.

Soldiers and the king’s guards stormed toward them from all sides, and the crowd surged in a frenzy, people of all races trampling over one another in a desperate attempt to flee.

She shoved her way through the madness, dodging the wild flails of lords and the flashing swords of soldiers. But the mob was thick, pushing and shoving as people scrambled in every direction. The clash of steel, panicked cries, and barked orders filled the air.

“Esmi, look out!” Jak screamed.

A soldier’s blade swung, narrowly missing her throat as she bent backward to avoid its sharpened edge. She turned and kicked the soldier in the chest, sending him toppling into the sea of bodies.

Gunshots went off, and more screams sounded.

She whipped around, eyes glowing as an aggressive grip held firm on her arm. Her glare landed on Jak as he shot at the onslaught of guards hurtling toward them.

“Where is Draevyn?!” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“Likely halfway to The Night Wraith by now.” Jak’s eyes lifted over her shoulder and shoved Esmyra to the side as he lifted his pistol and shot a guard who was racing toward them.

“I knocked him unconscious and handed him to Riven, Alec, and Ren. They slipped right out the doors the moment the screams ensued. Riven used his magic to sneak past any lingering guards so they wouldn’t be seen. ”

“Genius,” she whispered.

Gods, I love elven magic.

Her eyes snapped back to where her father fell, finding he was already back in the hands of the guards, being shoved out a side door of the ballroom.

Fuck.

A cry rang out above the chaos. “Seize them! Don’t let them escape!”

“I’m going after him,” she rushed out.

“Esmyra!” Jak gasped as he tugged at her arm. “We have the Phoenix as leverage. We couldn’t get to the heir, but we need to leave. Now.”

“Leave me,” she whispered. “I’ll go and make sure they know exactly what leverage we have and what we seek.” A growl worked its way through her. “No one will be leaving this kingdom by sea and live to speak of it until they return my father to me.”

She shoved out of his grasp and took off in a run, pushing her way through what remained of the crowd to follow the guards and her father.