Page 17 of Beasts of Shadows #1

We round a corner and pass another half-collapsed stairwell when I hear it.

A sob.

Soft. Choked. Small.

I freeze mid-step. Nikolai does, too.

It comes again. High and ragged.

A child’s cry.

No.

No, no, no.

I spin toward the sound and immediately regret it.

There, in a corner room just past a half-open door, is a little girl.

Not a woman.

Not a soldier or a rogue or some tough-as-nails rebel who got lost during training.

A child.

She can’t be more than seven. Her knees are drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them like she’s trying to become smaller. Her hair is long, dark, and tangled. Her face is blotchy from crying, but her eyes—they lock on us the second we enter. Wide. Mistrusting. Silent.

I stop cold in the doorway.

This can’t be right.

This is who we’re here to rescue?

“This has to be a mistake,” I murmur, eyes darting between her and Nikolai. “Tell me this is your guilt materializing again.”

Nikolai gives a jagged shake of his head and steps inside, slow and cautious.

“I thought we were getting a civilian,” I whisper, like saying it quieter will make her vanish. “Like, an actual adult. Not—this.”

He crouches a few feet away. “We don’t have time to debate it.”

Unless she’s not.

The thought hits hard and fast.

There are things in this world that look like children. Act like them. Until they rip you apart.

Nikolai holds out a hand, palm up. “We’re here to take you home.”

She doesn’t reach for him.

She just… watches.

Something about the way she’s studying us—it makes the hair on my arms lift. Too calm. Too alert.

“Nikolai,” I say under my breath, “what if she’s not human?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Then—quietly—“She’s not the ship.”

Like that’s the only measure that matters.

He steps closer and lifts her into his arms before I can stop him. Her limbs are stiff, like she’s unsure how to be held.

She doesn’t cry. Doesn’t speak. She just leans against his chest and stares over his shoulder.

We return to the corridor, and that’s when I feel it.

The shift in pressure.

The air thickens. The silence sharpens.

Then—wet footsteps. Dozens. Echoing from every direction.

I glance back.

They’re coming.

The ship’s victims. Twisted and waterlogged, faces warped by salt and time. They crawl out of the walls, their mouths stretching wide as if to scream—but no sound escapes. Only water.

“Shit,” I breathe, backing up. “Nikolai—.”

“Keep her moving,” he says.m, sliding the girl from her arms and pushing her towards me.

I turn—and realize he hasn’t followed.

He’s still standing there, blade drawn, body angled like he’s ready to take on every single one of them.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

“Buying time.” His gaze flicks over his shoulder. “Our mission was to get her out of here. Can’t do that if she’s dead. Get her to safety. I’ll follow.”

“That’s suicide.”

His jaw ticks.

“So is hesitation.”

My breath stutters.

I hesitate just a second too long—long enough for something to reach.

A slick, gray hand shoots from the wall beside me—too fast, too quiet—its fingers closing around my forearm like wet rope.

I yank back on instinct, blade swinging up, but the grip is strong. Cold. Wrong.

A face emerges next—half-rotted, bloated, jaw unhinged and gaping like it wants to scream. Water pours from its mouth.

I slash wildly. The blade hits bone, then slips.

“ Go !”

This time I don’t argue. I jam the hilt into the thing’s eye, and rip free—skin burning where it touched me.

Then I grab the girl’s wrist and run.

We stumble down the hallway as the ship tilts beneath us. The groan of pressure grows louder, followed by a low metallic clang—Nikolai engaging. Holding.

I don’t stop.

We reach the captain’s quarters, and I slam the door shut, shoving the bolt across.

The room groans around me. Water drips from the ceiling. Maps bleed ink. The dome glows with filtered green light.

We’re in.

We’re safe.

I tell myself that again and again, like saying it can make it true.

A massive dome window looms at the far end, the ocean pressing against it like it wants in. Light filters through the water in uneven waves. Maps are soaked. Books sag on their shelves. The whole place feels like a sunken tomb.

I scan the room. No exits. No trapdoor. Nothing but the sea outside.

The girl curls up in the driest chair she can find, shaking but silent.

“I’m Nari. What’s your name?” I ask.

“Ashki.”

I crouch in front of her. “I won’t leave you. But you need to tell me if anyone else is on this ship.”

Her lips part slightly. Then, in a voice as thin as a thread, she whispers, “She said I belong to her now.”

My blood turns to ice.

“Who?”

The girl doesn’t blink.

“The ship.”

Behind me, metal scrapes.

I yelp, spinning toward the sound and freeing my dagger.

One of the floor grates near the charting desk is shifting. Slowly, like something beneath it is prying it open with bare hands.

I tighten my grip on my knife, ready to fight if need be.

But the only thing to come through the hatch is Nikolai’s smug face.

He hauls himself up, panting. His shirt clings to him, soaked and streaked with salt and something darker.

He slams the hatch shut behind him and twists the rusted lock. There’s blood on the side of his face. Is it his? Did he get hurt?

His eyes find mine and narrow.

“Next time I tell you to do something, do it. ”

He slides down to the floor and exhales like he’s just made a deal with death and isn’t sure who won.

There’s no point in arguing with him. Not when I know I messed up by hesitating. I peer at the floor, a trickle of hope rising in my chest.

“Can we use that hatch to get out?”

Nikolai gives a bitter chuckle, splaying his hand over his face, eyes peeking from between two fingers.

“You didn’t read the full OPORD, did you?”

Embarrassment makes me shuffle my feet without response. Didn’t we just have to complete the mission? What else could have been so important?

“Oh, Harper. How do you still expect to make it to the solstice?”

“You didn’t give me enough time to read it,” I accuse. But that feels childish, and reluctantly I sink beside him.

Ashki’s watching us with wide, hollow eyes.

“I messed up,” I admit. “What did I miss?”

Nikolai nods toward the massive glass dome. The water beyond it presses against the window like it’s breathing.

“Once you’re in the captain’s cabin, you can’t leave it.”

My stomach drops. “You mean it locks?”

“No,” he says simply. “I mean it’s cursed.”

He’s not trying to scare me. He’s just stating it like it’s weather.

“The ship uses it to trap souls that made it too far. You cross the threshold, and it marks you as part of the wreck.”

“But we’re not—.”

“Doesn’t matter that we’re alive. To the ship, we’ve already drowned.”

Ashki doesn’t blink.

“There has to be a way out.” A hint of hysteria makes my throat sound raw. “Right? A professor wouldn’t just send us into a death trap. Right ?”

Nikolai finally looks at me, his long lips curled in a mocking grin.

It says enough.

That’s exactly what someone like Skawa would do.

Ashki’s hands tremble as she clutches the edge of her damp sleeves. Brave as she is, the kid’s rattled. I can feel it in the way she leans into the silence, like noise might shatter her. I should try to comfort her, but I can barely comfort myself.

I shift, unsure what to do—what I can do—when Nikolai moves.

He reaches into the inside pocket of his coat and pulls something out—small, ivory, and smoothed at the edges. He passes it over to Ashki, palm open.

It’s a carved bone figurine. Rough, but detailed. A seal, I think. Or maybe a bear. The edges are clumsy in places, but there’s something careful about it. Purposeful.

Ashki blinks. “What’s this?”

“Warding charm,” he says simply. “Made it last week. Thought you might like it.”

That’s it. No flourish. No lecture. No demand for praise.

Ashki’s hands curl around it like it’s made of starlight.

I stare. Not because it’s beautiful—but because it’s from him . Nikolai, who sneers at me. Who watches blood rituals like they’re stage plays. Who grumbles about mortals and pride and sacrifice. That Nikolai just handed a hand-carved bone to a terrified human kid without blinking.

“You made this?” I ask before I can stop myself. My voice sounds weird. Unsteady.

Impressed .

He shrugs like it’s nothing, already standing again. He actually seems uncomfortable. Embarrassed, even.

Ashki tucks the charm into her pocket like she’s afraid it might disappear if she blinks too long.

And me? I’m still trying to catch up.

Because for one breathless second, I can’t see Nikolai as the arrogant bastard who’s given me shit the last few hours.

It’s weird to see that he draws a line at his prejudice. That his spoiled hands can actually create something so…beautiful.

Damn it. I don’t want to think he has redeeming qualities.

It’d be a lot easier to die hating him.

#

Beyond the dome, the water’s rising.

It laps higher along the curved glass, the pressure groaning in the metal seams like the room is exhaling its last breath. What was once a peaceful observatory now feels like a tomb. The ceiling tilts slightly. The whole place is ready to give up.

The ship’s sinking, and we’re trapped.

Nikolai leaves the floor, rummaging through cabinets until he returns with a decanter full of dark liquid.

He sits beside us again, his thigh pressing against mine. Unlike earlier, when I touched his shoulder, this brush turns my stomach. Is this the ship’s doing, too?

“So your plan is to get drunk until you die?” I grunt as he uncaps the lid and tilts back.

Guess he’s back to his usual self.

He lifts a finger to correct me.

“ I will not die. Once the boat sinks into the murky depths of the Tethra Sea, and you stop breathing, I’ll choke on water until someone comes and rescues me.”

Ass.

Conceited Ass.