Page 57 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

Both Galen and Talmon soldiers fell at Kora’s blade.

Rage propelled her, and her water beast roared alongside her, drinking on her bloodlust as she cut a path across the deck. Barron never left the foredeck—in fact, he never moved. He was flanked by those disgusting guards in black-and-malachite armour, a single eye slit in their helmets. Their stench was palpable.

And no one approached him.

It incensed her drive. He thought he was untouchable, even where he stood—above the battle—was a mockery. An allusion to his status of head viceroy. A mere self-appointed title. She was all too happy to bring him down to their level and—

A group of Galenite mercenaries blocked her path.

She growled, the red haze numbing her thoughts as she raised her sword, ready to cut their throats for daring to obstruct her, when a lean figure stumbled in front of them, his hands exposed, his dark brown eyes wide. He had short, curly silver hair, and brown skin that glistened in the light. His eyes were round and deer-like, and a labradorite suit clung to his slender frame.

He looked a lot like Skylar.

“Woah, woah, woah.”

His voice was oddly familiar, and she tilted her head.

Her water beast growled once again, the sound vibrating in her throat. All she knew was kill, kill, kill. And this male was in the way. Kora twirled her sword, her hands glowing blue as water rippled up the blade. Something about this male irked her, and her power crested, desperate to be unleashed.

“Listen to me, cildbah.”

The use of Devanian made her pause. Why was he calling her a kid?

“State your business,”

she replied in the native tongue. Her voice was otherworldly. It didn’t even sound like her.

“Just trying to stop a friend from doing something stupid.”

“A friend?”

The male nodded, approaching slowly with his hands still raised. A red leather strap circled around his forehead, keeping longer coils of his hair out of his face.

“You remember me, cildbah.”

The word sparked something deep within her.

“I’m not stupid—you are,”

she snapped.

The male smiled and it was dazzling, lighting up his whole face.

“That’s right, I’m dumb and you’re smart.”

He was so close it made her shudder, followed by a sorrow that made her frown.

“Don’t condescend me.”

“I would never, cildbah. You know that.”

He placed a hand over his chest. His fingers were tattooed with intriguing symbols that unlocked a deep, dark corner in the depths of Kora’s mind. Like a rush of air, a memory shot through her, tearing from the darkness in the form of a single word.

“Aerion,”

she tested the word on her tongue.

He nodded.

“That’s me.”

“I know you,”

she stated simply.

“You do. What else do you remember?”

Aerion was close enough that his scent washed over her. It was spicy, making her nose wrinkle—and it wasn’t the scent she wanted.

She moaned, her head pounding, her two selves clashing against each other as she rocked forward. Her scar felt as though it was trying to tear itself from her skin. The cacophony of battle roared around them.

“You’re not him,”

she groaned, rubbing her head. She didn’t even know who she meant, but that lingering second self—her water beast—knew. It was clawing, crying, gagging for him.

“No, but I got all the beauty,”

Aerion chuckled.

The pale-stone-armoured mercenaries closed in, and panic bubbled inside of her, cutting off her oxygen. She was trapped again. Another male had lured and trapped her. Kora’s breathing quickened, her heart hammering violently as the walls closed in around her.

“Get away!”

she cried, crouching down as she clawed at her hair. She needed to escape, to get away—she needed to breathe.

“Step back!”

Aerion spread his arms out, and the mercenaries floated backwards. Some charged into the ensuing battle, keeping soldiers at bay from them.

Kora swiped up with her sword, positioning it over Aerion’s heart.

“Who are you.”

He glanced down at the sword amused. He had no weapons on his person, and he tapped the blade threatening his life with a bemused snort.

“You’re not going to kill me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? Galenites are murderers.”

His dark eyes flashed.

“That’s a lie.”

Something rippled around Aerion and she leapt back. She couldn’t see what it was, but she could feel it—a lingering thread, an invisible piston of power. He cricked his neck and rolled his shoulders, as if shaking off a nuisance.

“You need to come with us.”

He shifted and the air tremored. Kora’s own power reacted, and the ship rocked violently in the ocean. Masses of soldiers flew over the sides of the ship, screaming as they plummeted to their deaths. But not a single Galenite mercenary fell. No, they were rooted to the deck, immovable.

Now, there were more Galenites than Talmon soldiers.

“No.”

She raised her sword again, using it as a barrier of protection.

“You’re always so stubborn,”

he shook his head fondly, a smile dancing on his lips.

“You don’t know me.”

A rivulet of water jetted from the ocean, aiming for Aerion, but he deflected it with a simple dismissal of his hand.

“I know a lot about you actually. I know you can command the sea. I know it reacts to you like second nature. I know you love daggers—more than any normal person should. I know you prefer the winter, especially when it’s snowing. I know your favourite flowers are hydrangeas, and your favourite colour is blue.”

Kora staggered. Even Blake didn’t know these things. She was an innately private person.

“What . . . who . . .”

“Think, cildbah.”

Who was this male to her? Her mouth gaped like a fish, her mind splitting and fracturing as she chased a dream. No . . . a memory.

“Aerion!”

Skylar’s voice travelled on the winds, winding around them as if she were screaming next to them. They faced the quarterdeck, and Skylar tumbled down the stairs, her head bloody and her body limp.

Blake was right in front of them, breaking through the barrier of mercenaries. His face was bruised, and a thick slash tore the front of his leathers. But his sword . . . it was smeared with bright red blood, silver speckles glittering within it. Kora’s knees weakened, knocking together from trembling.

“Now, time for the next Windward sibling,”

Blake sneered.

“You’ll die for touching Skylar,”

Aerion spat.

“Anyone who touches what is mine will meet the same fate.”

Aerion blinked, following Blake’s possessive gaze on Kora, and she reeled backwards. They were back to this game. He still thought he owned her. That she belonged by his side. That the fa?ade was still real.

Gods spare her, what was wrong with him?

“I believe she can make her own decisions,”

Aerion raised his hands, his tattooed fingers twirling.

She decided she liked this male, despite his bloodthirsty lineage.

“I have paperwork that says otherwise.”

Blake inclined to the metal collar around her throat.

Aerion’s face twisted.

“You utter scum.”

In an instant, Aerion waved to Kora and her body lifted, carrying her away to the other side of the ship. Two mercenaries followed her, and she twisted in the air, her heart lifting with elation. She was flying—albeit a couple feet from the ground, over countless bodies, and mounds of death. But she was flying.

Ecstasy filled her, and her mind flashed back to lavender skies and pearlescent clouds. The feeling of warm winds carrying her as she dived through the air, her laughter bouncing around her along with the inviting presence of—

Her memory cut off as she landed port side, and the mercenaries grunted as they helped her to her feet. Their armour was fascinating. From far away, it looked like literal stone, but up close it was a shining opalescent metal, resembling gold, white, and pink all at once. Both guards were tall and broad, with dark skin and deep, kind eyes.

Had they been wrong about Galen?

Had everything Barron said been a lie?

Barron.

Kora cursed herself for being distracted, and she looked back to the foredeck. He was still there, observing the crescendo of warfare between ships. His back open and exposed to the battle raging below on deck.

Fool.

Retrieving her sword, she shouldered past the mercenaries, who followed closely behind. It was unnerving that they followed, like she was their leader. She approached the foredeck, her goal in sight, sweet revenge so close she could taste it on her tongue.

All she had to do was sneak up and plunge the sword right through his back, and it would all be over. There couldn’t be a war without a leader. The viceroys would fall into chaos, and the continent would amass control, silencing this nonsense. Even if it meant she’d have to go into hiding with her elemental power. But she knew, in that instant, she would never let go of it again.

“My lady, don’t go up there.”

A mercenary tentatively obstructed her path.

“I’m not your lady. Get out of my way.”

“It’s not wise. Forgive me, but you won’t survive.”

She laughed hysterically.

“You clearly don’t know me.”

She motioned to the sword, her power rippling around it like a second blade. Flicking her wrist, a second stream of water shot from her grip, creating a three-pronged sword, and she revelled in her lethality.

The mercenary’s mouth thinned, and he held up a thick arm, blocking her way.

“I must insist.”

“Don’t think I won’t kill you.”

She placed her sword by his throat but he didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.

“Very well.”

She pressed the blade into his flesh, blood welling around the sword, running down his neck and—she jumped back. Something within her cried out at the sight of what she was doing.

This wasn’t right.

This was wrong.

This wasn’t who she was.

She knew better. She was better.

She . . . she . . . she was a . . . she belonged to . . .

Kora crumpled. What was wrong with her? Her mind was ready to split in two, her power frantic, and she was losing control of it too easily. Screams echoed as rivers of sea water splashed across the deck, writhing across the ship in a vice-like grip, its fingers clenching, ready to drag it down to the depths.

Panic surged. Building up and up. The ship groaned, wood cracking and splintering. Her breathing stopped and she bent over, trying to gulp down breaths, but nothing was satiating her.

Soldiers yelled, grabbing hold of ropes to abandon the vessel to nearby flanking ships. Her lungs burned for air, her mind screaming in a torrent of emotions. The mercenaries stumbled as a pool of water collected at her feet, spreading like thick tar. Her throat so dry, she was desperate for water.

She had a deep, buried, burning need.

A desire.

It was all-consuming, and growing, taking over her body.

Right as she felt like she was going to combust, she was hit hard with the scent of rain clouds and steel.

“I’m coming!”

The voice returned.

“I can hear you—I’m coming.”

He was near.

“Scream for me.”

She wasn’t sure why she obeyed, but she released a raw scream—guttural, feral, and animalistic. With it, a second layer of her body escaped, hovering above her skin. A blue, rippling humanoid screaming along with her, calling out to the voice.

Calling him home.

It was as clear as day. Her water beast knew this voice intimately. It was the bridged connection between them. All at once, it sucked back into her, the scent so overpowering her eyes streamed. Slowly turning on her heel, she met the most handsome male she’d ever seen.

“Hello, Kordelia.”