Page 2 of The Rivaled Crown (The Veiled Kingdom #3)

CHAPTER 2

DACRE

T he ship let out a relentless chorus of creaks and groans, like a drumbeat that echoed my failure. The waves pounded against the hull, hammering home the same cruel truth: I had failed to protect Verena.

The iron shackles dug into my wrists, leaving behind angry red welts that burned with each movement. But the pain was distant, a mere background noise in my mind.

All that mattered was her.

The image of Verena being dragged away burned behind my eyes, her desperate screams swallowed by the crashing waves. Her name had been the last thing on my lips when they forcibly silenced me with a gag, as if trying to sever the bond that tied us.

But they had failed.

Hunched in the far corner of my cell, the thick stench of saltwater and unwashed bodies clung to me like a second skin. The damp air was almost suffocating, pressing in on all sides as I took shallow breaths.

My shoulders slumped, defeated, as I leaned against the cold iron bars.

Outside, a lantern swayed back and forth, casting golden light that danced across the rough wooden walls. But despite its efforts to illuminate the darkness, it only deepened the shadows in my mind.

I replayed the events over and over again in my head. I should have fought harder. Been smarter. I should have done something, anything, to keep Verena from being taken.

But instead, here I was, trapped in this wretched cell aboard this cursed ship while she…gods, I couldn’t begin to imagine the horrors she was enduring.

My hands clenched into tight fists, my nails digging into my palms as the cold metal cuffs mercilessly bit into my skin. Her face haunted me even when I closed my eyes. The pain in my chest was overwhelming, a mix of guilt and anger that made it hard to breathe. But more than that, it was the void left by her absence that weighed heavily on me, a constant reminder of what I had lost and allowed to be taken away from me.

It was as though I could physically sense her, through the delicate and untested bond that tethered us together. A faint echo of her agony reverberated through my being, like a distant whisper brushing against the edges of my mind. It was nothing more than a feeling, a cruel trick of desperation, but I clung to it anyway.

“Verena,” I breathed, her name escaping my lips like a whispered plea.

I clenched my teeth, forcing myself upright. I could not remain here any longer. Not while she was out there, hurt, alone, and at the mercy of her cruel father. The thought sent a surge of fury within me. It burned away the numbness that had settled over my limbs, igniting a fierce determination within me.

The guard stationed outside my cell was a hulking brute of a man, his arms crossed over his chest, a tarnished dagger clenched in one fist. He leaned against the damp wooden walls, his heavy-lidded eyes staring blankly ahead, as if the monotony of his job had dulled his mind.

I climbed to my feet on the damp floor and crouched low, my eyes darting back and forth as I surveyed the narrow corridor beyond the iron bars. The ship rocked and swayed beneath my feet, the relentless crash of waves against the hull masking any sound I made.

The plan forming in my mind wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even good. But it was all I had.

The cold, heavy chains encircling my wrists clinked as I adjusted them, testing their weight and tension. Just long enough to move, enough to be useful.

“Hey,” I called out, my voice hoarse and rough from disuse and lack of water.

He didn’t react at first, his gaze fixed on some distant point. But when I called out again, louder this time, he finally turned toward me, annoyance flickering in his eyes.

“Shut it,” he growled as his hand tightened around his dagger.

I didn’t shut it.

I leaned casually against the metal bars of my cell, watching him with a bored expression.

“I’m going to be sick,” I told him as I pressed my hands against my stomach. “The wounds on my body. I think they are infected.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. My body did feel like it was fighting against itself, begging to be healed.

“You’re going to have to wait until we reach land, and you’ve got days before we get there. The king ordered you as far away from his kingdom, his heir, as we can get you, and we’ve been at sea less than a day, boy.”

I could see the muscles in his jaw tense as he clenched his teeth, his hand tightening further on his rusted dagger.

Come closer.

I hunched over farther, groaning until he cursed under his breath.

“The king wants you alive,” he hissed. “He wants you questioned by the captain. He wants you tortured until you squeal like a pig about your beloved rebellion.” He took an aggressive step toward me, his dagger now pointed in my direction.”The king rewards handsomely when he gets what he wants. Show me the wound.”

I shifted my weight, ready to strike as soon as he was within reach. The pounding of my heart seemed to echo through the walls of my cell, each beat thumping loudly in my ears.

“Show me your wound,” he snarled, his voice low and menacing as he stepped right up to the bars of my cell.

Before he could react, I lunged. The heavy chains around my wrists rattled as I wrapped them around his thick neck, yanking him forward with every ounce of strength I had left.

His dagger clattered to the floor as he let out a choked gasp, his hands flying to the chains, clawing at them.

The ship pitched violently, sending both of us stumbling. I held tight, using the bars for leverage as I pulled harder.

He struggled, his breath coming in desperate wheezes and his nails digging into my wrists as he tried to pry the chains loose.

I yanked again until his body jerked once, twice, before going limp.

I let him slump to the floor.

No hesitation. No mercy.

Dropping to my knees, I frantically searched his belt for keys. My trembling fingers finally found a ring of cold metal, and I pulled it free.

The first key didn’t fit. Neither did the second.

Footsteps sounded from the deck above. I swore under my breath, fumbling with the keys and nearly dropping them.

Not now. Not when I’m this close.

Finally, on the third try, I felt a satisfying click as the key turned in the lock and the cuffs fell away from my sore wrists with a dull clank.

I exhaled sharply, shoving the pain in my wrists to the back of my mind as I jammed a key into the rusted lock of the cell door.

With the attempt of each key, the weight seemed to get heavier, and I cursed as I searched the hallway for any sign that someone had heard me.

The hinges groaned in protest as I turned the next key and heard the lock click open.

Slowly, carefully, I pushed the heavy door outward, its rusted edge scraping against the floor.

My pulse thundered in my ears as I stole a glance at the guard, still slumped over, his face slack in unconsciousness. Not dead. But close enough.

The passageway twisted and turned, lined with coils of rope, discarded fishing gear, and rusted tools. The ship rocked beneath me, the low murmur of voices from above filtering through the wooden planks overhead.

I kept to the shadows, my feet barely making a sound against the damp floorboards. Every step was calculated. Every breath was measured.

The stairs loomed ahead, steep and narrow. At the top, faint torchlights flickered, and beyond that, freedom.

A surge of resolve hardened my spine. I would not die here.

I took the first step. Then another. Each creak of the wood beneath me sent my pulse hammering, every sound a threat.

The voices above grew clearer.

“Captain wants us moving east by morning.”

“Should be at the next port in…”

The words cut off as the ship gave a sudden, violent lurch.

Shit.

I threw myself against the wall, pressing into the shadows as a pair of boots appeared at the top of the stairs.

The man muttered something under his breath, adjusting his belt as he stepped down.

Closer.

I tried to reach for my power, but I was too weak. My strength leached from me in a way that left nothing for my magic.

As soon as he was within reach, I struck.

My arm shot out, catching him by the throat. His eyes bulged as I drove him backward, his balance lost on the uneven steps.

He barely had time to choke out a curse before I slammed his head against the railing.

Once.

Twice.

He slumped.

I caught his belt, easing him down the stairs as silently as I could before laying him beside the unconscious guard. No time to search for weapons. No time for caution.

I took the stairs two at a time.

The cold sea air hit me like a blade the moment I reached the top deck, salt and wind tearing at my skin.

The dark expanse of the ocean stretched in every direction, endless and unforgiving. The moon was bright overhead, silver light reflecting off the rippling waves, casting eerie, shifting shadows across the deck.

Two crew members stood near the railing, their backs to me, deep in quiet conversation.

I moved fast.

Silent. Deadly.

My fingers brushed against a length of rope coiled near the mast, and I pulled it free in one fluid motion.

The first man turned, brow furrowed. “Hey…”

I lunged, slamming my shoulder into his chest before he could finish the word.

He stumbled back into the other crew member, throwing them both off balance. Their swords were halfway drawn before I was already moving.

I didn’t give them a chance.

The first man lunged, and I ducked, driving my elbow into his ribs before sweeping his legs out from under him.

The second man was faster, his blade whistled through the air, missing my throat by inches.

I twisted, grabbing his wrist and driving my knee into his gut. He choked on a curse as I wrenched the sword from his grasp and slammed the hilt against his temple.

He crumpled.

I turned back to the first man, now scrambling to his feet.

Too slowly.

I drove my stolen sword into his thigh. He let out a strangled cry, his legs buckling beneath him as he collapsed against the deck.

I didn’t stay to watch him fall.

The ropes.

I grabbed the nearest coil, heart hammering as I knotted one end around the railing and hurled the other end overboard.

Below, the small lifeboat bobbed violently, ropes straining as it fought against the pull of the waves.

I peered over the railing, my eyes stinging from the sharp spray of saltwater. I swung my leg over, bracing against the slick wood.

A shout rang out behind me.

I pushed off, plummeting toward the waiting boat below.

The boat pitched hard as I hit the bottom, the impact slamming the breath from my lungs.

I barely had time to register the pain before I was moving again.

The ship loomed above, voices shouting in alarm, boots pounding against the deck.

I reached for my blade, gripping it tight. The last rope still held the lifeboat tethered. I had to cut it.

I sawed at the thick fibers, the blade slipping against the damp, sea-worn rope.

Come on .

A shadow passed overhead, and I looked up just as the captain leaned over the railing, his eyes wild with fury.

“Stop him!”

More shouts. More movement.

The sword in my grip dug deeper, slicing halfway through.

The boat rocked violently beneath me as another wave hit, sending cold seawater sloshing over the edge.

Footsteps thundered above.

I was almost there. Another slash…

The rope snapped.

The boat lurched, breaking free from the ship, and plunging into the churning waters below.

The impact sent me sprawling, my back colliding against the wooden bench. Pain flared through my ribs, but I didn’t stop moving.

Above, the crew scrambled, their voices growing distant as the lifeboat drifted farther and farther away.

The sea had claimed me now.

Salt stung my skin, the frigid wind howling as I struggled to steady myself. The waves were relentless, crashing against the small vessel, tossing it about.

But I was free.

I grabbed the oars, my muscles protesting as I rowed, each pull sending fire through my exhausted limbs.

Verena.

The thought of her remained steady like a lighthouse in the storm.

Time blurred.

The sky darkened, then lightened again.

The hours stretched, my body numb with exhaustion.

My mind was as turbulent as the ocean. Fear, regrets, and desperate hope crashed and churned, threatening to consume me.

Her name echoed through my mind, a whisper against the roar of the sea.

There was a fragile thread that tethered me to her, and I clung to it as I rowed harder.

I forced myself to focus on the details of her face. The delicate freckles that danced along her cheeks. The warmth in her smile as she shared the story about her mother. I replayed those vows we spoke from her story on an endless loop inside my mind.

Each word held a weight and a promise that still lingered.

Until…the seabirds began to fly overhead.

Then a thin line of land appeared on the horizon.

Relief hit me like a blow to the chest, staggering and overwhelming.

I pushed forward, the last reserves of my strength pouring into every stroke of the oars.

The shoreline grew closer, the jagged cliffs rising from the sea like sentinels.

And then, I could see a few figures lining the beach, and trepidation filled me.

My father was still looking for me. My father who I had betrayed to save her.

My people who I had betrayed.

But I had no choice.

The boat scraped against the sand. I stumbled out, my legs nearly buckling as they met solid ground.

“Dacre!”

The voice was distant but achingly familiar. I lifted my head, my vision swimming.

Footsteps pounding against the sand grew louder until they were right beside me, and hands gripped my shoulders. The sand shifted beneath my weight as I struggled to focus on the face in front of me.

Kai.

He was speaking, but I couldn’t make out the words.

Another voice.

“We’ll find her.”

Wren.

I tried to stand, tried to speak. “Where is she?”

But the world tilted.

Darkness swallowed me, and all I heard was Wren’s voice carrying through the void.

“We’ll find her.”