Page 85 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

“Let him talk,asterya.” Blake smiled wickedly. Oh, it was time for a game. She stepped back and Callan rasped, greedily breathing in air.

“You’retogether!” Callan’s shock was so satisfying.

“Yes, so don’t try to pull any more I-asked-for-it crap. He knows better.” Her strained voice caught Blake’s attention. She could’ve sworn thunder danced in his eyes as he noticed the chain-like bruise forming around her neck.

“You were fair game,” Callan seethed. “I’ll tell them all. You won’t be able to stand on two legs after. Captains can’t be involved with their crew, and you’re a—”

“That’s enough.”

Kora pressed down on his throat, and Blake withdrew his cutlass sword, the tip hovering near Callan’s limp one. Callan snivelled, and Blake chuckled darkly as he twirled the sword in his hand.

“What do you think we should do?” he asked, his tone playful.

“Hmm . . . hunting?” she mused.

“I don’t like my prey sandy,” Blake joked, wrinkling his nose at Callan. “We could castrate him?”

Callan started crying.

“That’d certainly solve a lot of his . . . issues. And protect all women.”

“Shame they brought all that food. We could take a page out of the wenches’ book and, you know . . .” Blake chomped his jaw, imitating eating. It was a dark move, even for him, but they were dealing with a monster on epic levels.

Kora bared her teeth at Callan, and she knew it was her deathly smile. The smile she used in the Darkoning Trials to deter her opponents. In fact, her and Blake had done this verbal torture game before on their captured enemies, dragging out their sentence, making them expect the worst before delivering them to the empire.

“It’s not my fault,” he spluttered. “She’s lying to you! Tell him who you—”

“What’s going on here?” Theron’s voice cut through the hazy fog blanketing her mind, and Kora blinked as he approached, a smouldering presence against the black night.

“Why do you have Callan . . .” Theron halted at Kora.

He flinched at the splatter of blood peeking through her ripped shirt, and his gaze travelled down to Callan, who began pleading with Theron, his voice now a hoarse whisper.

“Your subordinate tried to rapemycaptain,” Blake snapped. His barely contained temper was palpable, and Theron cautiously stepped back.

“Theron . . . please, she’s a—” Theron cut off Callan’s words with a sharp wave of his hand.

“I do not want to hear it! I am sick todeathof you, Callan!” His voice was like the boom of a cannon, echoing through the darkness of the desert night. Callan’s face slackened, shock permeating his pores.

Kora retreated to Blake, their bodies mere centimetres apart as Callan scrambled towards Theron. He stepped out of reach of Callan’s bloodied, twisted hands.

“This is the last straw. You are done. I want you out of my sight, out of my crew, my guard. Gone.”

“Where will I go? I’m your royal guard, you can’t dismiss me! Only the king can do that.”

“I do not care!” Theron’s jaw grounded. “Go into the desert, with the other exiles. You are exiled from Azaria. You are exiled from Aldara.You are no more!”

Callan sat back on his heels in disbelief, peering at the black expanse of the desert. “But . . . it’s dark. And cold. I’ll die!”

“Be gone!” Theron’s voice whipped through the air and Kora winced. He unsheathed an axe, his expression pained as he raised it, aiming at Callan. “Don’t make me do this.”

The creep scrambled, pulling his trousers on, and shooting a deadly glare at Blake and Kora before darting into the night. His shadowed figure hurtled up the dunes, pausing to look back at them before disappearing down the other side.

She hoped to never see him again.

Theron sighed, sliding the sharp edge of his axe across his vambrace before re-sheathing it.

“I have no words,” he swallowed his dismay. “I cannot apologise enough to you. I am deeply sorry. I hope this doesn’t tarnish our relationship.”