Page 58 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

Hello, Kordelia.”

She could hear his voice out loud and inside her mind. When his lips moved, the familiar voice she’d listened to for a decade echoed.

Her sword clattered to the deck.

He was striking, dazzling, and her fingers itched to touch him. He was the water that could quench her thirst, the air that could satiate her lungs. He was the missing piece in her broken mind. She thrummed with desire, with an unsatisfied need she realised now Blake could never have fulfilled. He may have ignited fiery simmering in her core, but this male caused her to erupt like an inferno.

Sun rays bounced off his silver hair, and Kora’s eyes roved over his rippling muscles, contained within a leather fighting suit made of the same labradorite material as Skylar’s and Aerion’s. The sides of his head were shaved, and silver charms pierced his ears.

“You’re alive,”

he sighed, beaming with joy.

His voice was like butter. Meltingly smooth, warm, and delightful. Temptation coaxed her, and she instinctively moved towards it, intoxicated by the sound. She was distinctly aware of a growl in her throat—no, a purr.

Gods’ sake, she was purring at this male.

His smile broke into a grin at the sound, lighting up his handsome face. He didn’t approach her, remaining by the side of the railing. As she neared, his eyes came into focus, dazzlingly reflective of their surroundings. They were like crystals, and when he blinked, they turned iridescent, surrounded by dark lashes. His light brown skin was smooth, and she had the strongest urge to lick the beads of water dripping from his skin and leathers.

“Come to me,”

he lured her willingly. Her legs pushed forward without thought, and somewhere in the pits of her mind, squeaked a voice telling her to stay away.

His smile wavered, like he could hear her thoughts.

“It’s okay, Kordelia.”

Her brow furrowed. That wasn’t her name. She faltered, and the male hesitated, his movements slow and obvious. Too obvious, as if he were afraid of spooking her. A soldier neared to their left, but a Galenite mercenary intercepted. In fact, a wave of mercenaries surrounded them, protecting them in a makeshift semi-circle.

“Do you know who I am?”

He swallowed, his heavy gaze flickering to her throat. His face pinched at the collar.

“You’re . . . him.”

“Right,”

he laughed. And gods-damned wasn’t it magical, causing the symphony of battle to fade away. There was only the two of them, in this blessed bubble.

“I’m him. Who’s him?”

“He’s . . .”

she winced, pain slicing down her mind as she tried to remember. She tapped her head.

“He’s here.”

The male reached forward at the sign of her pain and Kora flinched back. Her arm waved, rippling with a liquid, rounded shield, defending herself against his attack. He paused, shrinking back, reining in his distress.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Yes. That’s me.”

It was alarming to hear his voice simultaneously in two places, but her water beast delighted in it, curling over inside of her, purring, and clawing to connect.

“I . . .”

she shuddered at his closeness, at his scent.

“I’m broken.”

His face softened.

“I can fix you.”

“How?”

She found herself stepping towards him again and, this close, she had to tilt her head to look up at him. His jaw was sharp, and on impulse she ran a single finger down its edge. He moaned, leaning into her touch, and heat collected between her legs at the sound. She could listen to him moan over and over again. Her finger sizzled at the contact.

He slowly, gently, placed a large hand on her chest, his eyes deliberately looking down to show her what he was doing. Her pulse raced as the male pushed down slightly on her chest, and Kora was propelled backwards by a flash of power, sending her into the darkness of the void.

Darkness. Emptiness. Void.

She was somehow back here—and she was awake. This wasn’t a dream, it was real life. It was jarring to experience. To be in existence and to cease being, all at once. The past, present, and future converged on Kora, and she released a flare of her power.

Beautiful blue light bloomed from her core, spreading into a webbed structure all around her. It grew and expanded within the void, feathering out in intricate loops and swirls, stretching and twining. The threads echoed with sounds—voices, and when Kora touched one, a memory of her life flashed before her eyes.

She soared across her timeline, picking at the exposed threads of her mind.

Celebrating her birthday last year with Samuel and Erick.

Bree visiting when Kora caught the flu two winters ago.

Surviving the Darkoning Trials with Blake.

When she’d first defeated Erick during one of their training sessions years ago.

Her first time sailing a ship.

As she delved further into her past, peeling back the years, the blue threads dimmed, becoming infrequent and sparse. Soon, her intricate webbed structure diminished to a few frayed strands, the far ends fading from a glowing vibrant blue to a writhing shadowy black. The strands were decaying and rotting, their layers peeling away and drifting into the void where they evaporated into nothing.

“It ends here.”

His voice was here with her. She couldn’t see him, but their connection burned brightly in her mind.

“They have destroyed the tether to your true self—he has invaded your mind and left disease.”

Those sickening, writhing shadows hissed, flailing in the void at the sound of his voice, and Kora grabbed onto them, her hands burning cold. Ice collected on her palms, cascading up her arms. Her water humanoid form began to freeze over, and she panicked.

“Help me!”

Her limbs froze solid, and the stinging chill chased up her spine, smothering her chest, wrapping around her throat, suffocating her.

“Help me—Raiden!”

With a clap of thunder, Kora plummeted back into her body.

The force sent her careening into Raiden’s arms, and he pulled her towards him, burying his face in her neck, inhaling deeply. The sensation of returning from the void made her head spin, and her legs gave way. He held her up, stroking the short strands of her hair.

“I’ve got you,”

he murmured.

She pulled away to look at him—at Raiden.

He frowned at her expression.

“Kordelia?”

She pushed away from him, scowling.

“That’s not my name,”

she snapped.

The devastation on Raiden’s face made her want to rush over to him, to comfort him, to tell him that it’s okay—that she’s got him.

It was utterly baffling, and she clenched her fists, attempting to suppress this infatuation.

“You don’t remember,”

he observed.

“No. I don’t know who you are.”

Raiden looked away, his jaw clenching, and her chest tightened. She felt the wild, second side of herself fade away, her clarity returning. What the fuck was she doing? She was supposed to do something . . . she was supposed to kill someone.

“I’m nobody important. Now, tell me who you think you are.”

His tone riled her, and she stooped to swipe her sword from the deck.

“I’m Kora fucking Cadell. I know who I am.”

Raiden stilled. “Cadell,”

he repeated.

She lifted her chin.

“Yes, and?”

“That traitorous swine.”

The snarl tearing from Raiden’s throat was truly terrifying and animalistic. A gust of wind whipped across the deck, and groups of bodies lifted and smashed against the masts of the ship, their spines cracking in two. The masts groaned, the already-splintered wood cracking deeper, and the iron-gated brig sprung open, metal warping from the force.

As the wind raged . . . it never touched Kora. In fact, she couldn’t feel it at all.

“Raiden!”

Aerion darted towards them, carrying an unconscious Skylar in his slender arms, with Aryn hot on his heels. The sight was conflicting, like two puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together. Kora’s spinning head threatened to curdle her knotted stomach, and she inhaled deep, ragged breaths.

Behind them, Talmon soldiers had been obliterated, and the deck was eerily quiet. Kora searched for a familiar green cape, but there was no sign of Erick, and bile burned her throat. Had he been caught in Raiden’s power . . . or worse . . . hers?

“We need to go now,”

Aryn ordered.

“Do your thing, Windward,”

he spoke to Raiden.

“Which one of us are you talking to?”

Aerion chuckled, and Aryn rolled his slanted eyes.

The knot turned into a barbed twist. Aryn knew the Windward siblings. He knew their names, who were they were . . . what they could do. That they had magic, and it was elemental like hers.

Kora scrambled away. She couldn’t be near this—them. Galen was the enemy. They were bloodthirsty killers, they murdered innocents, and tried to destroy the Azarian Islands in the last war. They killed Eleanore and Erick’s unborn babe.

They were barbarians.

And Aryn was one of them. He didn’t look the same, or act the same as them, but he was intimately familiar.

“Kora,”

Aryn hurriedly followed.

“You need to trust me. I know it’s scary—”

“You don’t know anything!”

she snapped.

“You lied to me. Everyone lied to me. You’re a Galenite, aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t born one, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You chose to be one—that’s worse.”

“So did you, once.”

The words stunned her. They couldn’t be true. It wasn’t true. She wouldn’t be something as awful as a Galenite.

“You need to come with us. I’m asking you to trust me one more time, Captain.”

Kora winced at the title.

“When have I let you down before?”

It was true. Aryn may have lied about a lot of things—too many things to currently process—but he’d always been there. He’d always saved her, and been an ear to listen to her problems. Even his medical field training came in handy a couple times.

Her gaze flickered to the Windward siblings lingering behind him. Aerion smiled at her sheepishly, his features aloof, with his unconscious sister clutched in his arms. Skylar was taller, more muscled than Aerion, but he cradled her as if she were as light as a feather.

Raiden stood apart from them, his fists clenching and unclenching. His gaze wholly fixed on Kora and the world melted away, leaving just her and Raiden in their little void. She was the single point in his life, the blue light revolving around his darkness, and it took her breath away.

A light tremble shook through her, pooling in her core. Raiden’s eyes dipped down, and then back up to her eyes, his lips twitching amusedly. Surely that was better than Talmon? Besides, they held the key to her past—to her family. She needed answers, and the truth. They could possess the power to unlock her memory.

“Okay,”

she shakily exhaled.

“Okay,”

Aryn smiled gently, his golden eyes beckoning her to follow as he turned back.

A hand reached out and grabbed Kora by the shoulder, digging into her freshly healed wound, and she yelled as she was ripped backwards, careening into a body reeking of petrichor and bitter soil. She writhed, confused by the change of scent, as Blake’s hands clamped around her arms, and Barron stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Raiden Windward,”

Barron rolled his name off his tongue.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you to return.”

Raiden’s huge form advanced, positioning his siblings behind him. Aryn nocked an arrow, aiming at Blake, who laughed in return.

“Well, being trapped by magical Mist made it a little difficult. We tried to send postcards.”

Raiden shrugged casually. It was a contrast to the barely contained fury on his face.

Trapped.

Kora’s fingers flexed, trying to summon the ocean beneath the ship. Blake tightened his grip, his arms snaking around her body, holding her flush against him. He squeezed until she gasped, the air forcibly pushed from her lungs.

“None of that.”

He stroked down the side of her face to her metal collar.

Raiden growled, and an invisible hand whipped Blake, snapping his face to the side.

“Ah, now, now,”

Barron unclasped his hands as Blake stumbled with Kora still firmly in his grip.

“Let’s play nice, shall we? I do love reunions.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t stay. We’ll take some grog to go.”

Raiden bared his teeth.

Aryn tightened his grip on his longbow, the bowstring so taut it shook. But it wasn’t just the longbow. The entire ship was shaking, and Kora teetered as the wooden deck vibrated, shuddering up her legs.

“You see, I can’t allow any of you to leave,”

Barron darkly chuckled.

Aerion cursed, and Kora craned her neck, locating the source of the tremor behind them. A large Talmon Empire capital vessel flanked the ship, attached with several, wide gangplanks. Rows of soldiers marched upon the ship across them. An endless stream of bodies. They all donned the black-and-malachite heavy armour, and a stale, rotted stench permeated the air, making her eyes water. Their heavy, booted feet pounded across the decked wood, the ship vibrating with every uniformed step.

There were so many. Gods, they were doomed.

Raiden’s eyes flared, and he glanced around the ship.

“Your fleet has abandoned you,”

Barron gestured to the empty oceans.

“You’re too weak.”

“Shit.”

Aerion tightened his grip on Skylar, who moaned faintly in his arms.

“He called the fleet back. We need to go.”

Kora strained against Blake’s clutches. The Galenite fleet had vanished. Not a single white sail peaked on the horizon. Who was Aerion referring to? Who had power to summon an entire fleet in minutes?

“I’m not leaving without her.”

A blast of wind circled Raiden, the thick hair atop his head wafting. She could see the glimmer of his magic—a sparkling, iridescent silver, like diamonds, winding around him.

“She doesn’t know who you are,”

Barron glanced at Kora with a wink, and that sickening cold crept over her.

“Why not start afresh? Leave her with us, where she belongs.”

“Never.”

Raiden’s blast of wind increased into a gale force, creating his own little cyclone on the ship.

“She belongs in Galen.”

The words simultaneously made her want to scream with horror and jump with joy. It was so nauseating having two selves within her, scrambling to the surface for control.

“She doesn’t want you!”

Blake spat.

“Kora chose for herself already.”

He licked and kissed the side of her face and she wrenched her head away. No thank you.

The realisation dawned in Raiden’s crystalised eyes, and she wasn’t sure why it upset her so much—why it mattered to Raiden that she and Blake used to be an item. He’d said he was nobody important. But now, the sheer pain and rawness in Raiden’s face at Blake staking his claim on her, was completely void shattering.

Raiden’s power exploded—and Kora had never experienced anything like it. It dwarfed her own. The skies thundered, lightning bolting through clear blue sky, crackling across the ship. The air cleaved in two, split apart as a cyclone tore up into the heavens, hurtling their way.

The soldiers rushed across the deck, and Raiden faltered as his magic bounced off them. Aryn fired arrows at the soldiers, but his arrows snapped in half upon impact. They were outnumbered, and they were all going to die, because of her—again.

Raiden turned to face Blake and Kora, and he held out his hand, squeezing an invisible force. Blake stumbled, choking, releasing her. She fell to her knees as Blake coughed and choked, clawing at his neck, gasping for air.

“Run, baby. Run to me!”

Raiden yelled over the torrents of his power. She was no one’s baby, but now wasn’t the time for that discussion.

Aerion stumbled onto the railing, his flight suit expanded. Skylar’s unconscious body hovered in the air beside him, blood dripping from her skull.

Kora pelted forwards as Barron howled with a thunderous might. This was it. She had a chance. That tiny kernel of hope exploded in her chest, threatening to blindly consume her as the thundering neared behind her. Desperate. She was so desperate. Or was that Raiden?

“Hurry!”

he screamed in her mind.

A wave of cold flashed through the atmosphere, and her back arched painfully, sharp metal slicing down her spine. Her right arm stretched out, reaching for Raiden as he frantically tried to grab hold of her. He was panicked, and it echoed deep in the recesses of her mind, his fear matching her own.

She wasn’t going to make it. No, no, no!

“Raiden, I can’t—”

Her other arm flung back, pressing into the side of her face as her scar flared with a deadly coldness that spread. It snaked down her jaw, curling under the metal collar, like frostbite clenching her windpipe, cutting off her air supply. Her body went rigid, her power fading. Raiden’s grasp was mere inches away, his warmth and presence crying out to her.

“No!”

Raiden’s cry was the last thing Kora heard as her mind and body were ripped back forcefully, dragging her into the cold clutches of death.