Page 58

Draevyn

D raevyn lay in bed, staring up at the carved ceiling, the dim merlights from the city beyond glowing through the windows’ curtains. The castle felt too quiet, too still. Beneath the surface of the water, everything seemed muted, as if the world had been swallowed whole by the silence of the deep.

But his thoughts were loud, chaotic even.

Lies. All they had given the council were lies, carefully spun to conceal the truth of why they were here. But the truth gnawed at him now—Esmyra had been lying to him the entire time.

Cyrus Blackwood wasn’t just merely her captain. He was her father .

No wonder she was so intent on rescuing him, willing to risk her life for it and refusing to back down even an inch whenever someone challenged her on it. And the curse she spoke of? His mind reeled with everything that could mean.

However, now with even more lies spun in their web with their captors, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking on a tightrope, teetering dangerously close to a fall that could be their undoing.

Where they were was impossible—or should’ve been. How had this kingdom survived, and what was the dome surrounding it ?

They weren’t here by accident. He was certain of it. Esmyra had mentioned a pull bringing them here, and he witnessed it as it glowed atop her flesh.

She’d nearly killed him when they first crossed paths, and frankly, he had thought about returning the favor more than once.

But now…now they were stuck in this uneasy alliance, playing a game neither of them fully understood.

And nothing would benefit them if they continued lying not only to their captors, but to each other as well.

Draevyn shifted in the bed, unable to find comfort.

Every fiber of his being screamed not to trust her. She was a pirate, after all—cunning, ruthless, and unpredictable. And she was the worst of them, living by no one’s rules but her own. The thought of relying on her, of counting on her to not betray him again , was a risk that gnawed at his gut.

And yet…

Draevyn groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He wanted to trust her. Some part of him, buried deep under layers of mistrust, wanted to believe she wouldn’t turn on him the second she got what she needed.

Esmyra was fierce, independent, and unwilling to play nice. He respected all of it, even if it made her dangerous.

But it was more than that.

He couldn’t ignore the way she looked tonight.

The moment she stepped out of her chambers, dressed in flowing robes that he knew made her uncomfortable, but somehow made her look even more untouchable.

She wasn’t meant for silks and gowns, for the trappings of court life.

That, he knew. But she had worn it with that same defiant edge that she carried everywhere, like a challenge to anyone who dared underestimate her, playing the part she needed to.

And she was beautiful. The kind of beauty that was wild and raw—nothing like the poised, delicate women of the court he had grown accustomed to.

There was fire in Esmyra—a dangerous allure that made him want to get too close, knowing it would burn.

Wildfire , he thought .

Draevyn cursed under his breath. She was too sharp, too dangerous, and he couldn’t let the allure of her get to him. Esmyra was nothing but trouble. She was a pirate, and a godsdamn siren on top of that.

But the truth was, she was already under his skin, her talons sinking and clawing at his flesh. Every word she said, every time she shot him one of those scathing glares, it dug a little deeper. She challenged him in ways no one else ever had, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

It made him uneasy, restless, and absolutely craving her in every way imaginable.

And now, lying in the dark, the quiet pressed in on him, and he could feel it all slipping out of control. The lies, the danger, the woman he desperately wanted to trust, even if he didn’t know why.

Perhaps it was because they were both trapped, forced to rely on each other to survive when they were both the most dangerous beings known to all kinds above the surface.

Or perhaps it was because, beneath all that fire and defiance, he could see a glimmer of something more to her—something that made him wonder if they weren’t so different after all.

“Fucking Irah,” he huffed before rolling onto his side.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her standing across from him in that damned hall, her eyes blazing and mouth set in a hard line. The sight drove him to near insanity.

Once Draevyn was finally on the edge of sleep, a soft, faint click sounded from across the room. His instincts flared instantly, flames rushing to the tips of his fingers as adrenaline surged through his veins. He shot up in bed, eyes wide and alert as he scanned his chambers.

The room was still, bathed in the dim glow of the watery light outside, aside from the tiny ball of fire he held above his palm. But something was wrong, and he sensed he wasn’t alone. His pulse quickened as he threw off the covers and silently slid to his feet.

The door to his chambers was still closed, but he knew that sound hadn’t been his imagination. He crept forward, his muscles tense as every sense remained heightened.

He didn’t give a damn that Esmyra warned him against using his flames while in Maerinys. It was the only means he had to protect himself—and her—against those here.

Then Draevyn saw it—a faint glimmer in the shadows of the window. It was almost impossible to spot, like a ripple in the air. He squinted, his breath catching as he froze while he watched the shimmer shift and take form.

Someone was there, blending into the wall like a phantom, its figure barely distinguishable against the stone.

The fireball held above his palm surged as he took a step closer and pulled aside the curtain.

His eyes fell to cream-colored clothing that almost blended with the stone wall, shaping to a curvaceous body hidden beneath.

The hair on his arms stood sentinel at the threat lurking before him—a dress clinging to a phantom form.

Draevyn’s jaw locked as his gaze traced up the camouflaged bodice until his eyes met the vertical slits of ones glacial blue.

“Esmyra.” He exhaled sharply, anger flaring.

The siren stepped out from the wall, allowing her skin to shift back into its usual hue. A sharp, almost evil giggle left her, and he extinguished the flame in his hand.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his voice low but heated.

Draevyn tried to hide his awe at her ability to blend with her surroundings by glaring at her. He’d never seen or heard of anything like it before.

But she just stood there with a wicked grin.

Esmyra’s eyes glinted in the low light. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t plotting any betrayal while I was defenseless in my slumber.” She placed her hands on her hips.

His jaw clenched. “Funny. Considering you’re the one sneaking around in my chambers while I was trying to sleep.” He took another step toward her. “ Defenseless is also laughable. Couldn’t mind your own business even for one night? ”

She narrowed her eyes, her posture still casual but tense. “Mind my own business? You are my business. Whether we like it or not, we’re stuck in this mess together.” She paused, tilting her head, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or did you forget that part in between all the lying we did today?”

Draevyn glared at her, the heat flaring in his chest. “Oh, I’ve forgotten nothing. I’m just curious as to why you’re silently prowling through my room in the middle of the night.” He pointed toward the door. “Or do you make it a habit of sneaking up on people who are supposed to be your allies?”

Her lips curled into a smirk as he gave her shit right back to her, but there was no humor in it. “You think I trust you just because we made some unspoken truce in front of her court? You’re a lot of things, Draevyn Rowe, but trustworthy isn’t one of them.”

He scoffed. “ Me ? You think I’m the problem here? You’re the one who’s been keeping secrets since the moment we met. I don’t trust you any more than I do your supposedly cursed father, Esmyra Blackwood .”

Esmyra’s eyes flashed with fury, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping dangerously low. “Perhaps I’m here so we can come up with some sort of actual plan, yet you’re proving useless once more.”

“Useless,” he echoed with a sharp laugh.

“You don’t have to trust me, and frankly, I don’t give a damn if you do.”

“You’ve been lying since the moment we met, Esmyra,” he snapped, his voice rising.

“You want to work together in this? It’s clear you’re working so hard for my survival to get your father back.

It all makes sense now—why fight so hard for your captain back when you were promoted to the title and equally respected by your crew. ”

She crossed her arms again, her gaze unyielding. “It wasn’t your business who Cyrus is to me.”

“Does my father know?” he asked.

“Know what?” she spat.

“That Cyrus is your father. Or adoptive father, whatever you consider him. ”

“Aye.” Her stare fell to the floor, her jaw locking. “Though beyond that, nobody knows outside of the crew of The Night Wraith .”

“So Jak knows then?” The words poured out before he could stop them, and he cursed himself for it. He refused to acknowledge how much her relationship with her first mate bothered him.

She lifted an onyx brow. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Prince.”

A breathy laugh left him. “Jealous? Hardly,” he said through his teeth. “The dynamic of your crew is one I’ve been trying to decipher since I woke up on your ship.”

Esmyra shrugged as she moved past him and strode toward his bed, glancing over her shoulder with that infuriatingly seductive smirk. “What is it that you want, Draevyn Rowe?”