Hymn of Breath and Bone (The Whispering Sea Duet #2)

Chapter 25

“Break their wings.”

The Selkie King’s order had been the last words I fully comprehended before pain became the majority of my world.

Pain and panic.

They had taken Marina, and the part of my brain controlled by our bond and by the primitive beast inside me could think of nothing but getting her back.

“Are you alive?” Zephyr croaked from the cell next to me. A stone wall separated us, but I saw her hand reach out through the iron bars. “Cas?”

“Barely.” The word came out as a groan, and I tried to block the pain from lurching down the bond toward Marina. Based on her responding jolt of panic, I’d failed. “Wings?”

“Broken.” A choked sob came from my first mate as I heard her shift in the cell, and I balled my hands into fists. “Skies, Cas, it hurts.”

Zephyr had been spared from the Stormcrow’s methods when we were younger by sheer luck. But having experienced the pain before didn’t make it much easier to bear.

“Try not to move,” I commanded, trying to heed my own advice and keep still so as not to jostle the broken bones. “Picture your revenge to keep your mind off the pain.”

It had been the Stormcrow who had heeded the king’s orders, grinning like he did when I was a child and helpless to fight back.

I was still helpless, it seemed.

I tried to push the pain from my mind and take stock of our situation. My hands were still cuffed behind my back in iron, and it seemed unlikely that the guards would fall for my tricks a second time. I’d need to find another way to get free, although that would be made more challenging by the broken wings.

The wind and rain came battering through the open window, making the cold and damp even more unpleasant. I shivered uncomfortably as I tried to think of a way out of this mess.

An opening similar to the one I’d escaped out of with Marina was only feet from my cell door. It must be meant for pitching the dead out to sea, and I winced at the memory of sliding out of it with my broken wings. It would do me no good unless I could get out of the damn iron cuffs.

The keep shook, one of the now-frequent earthquakes cracking the stone. A flash of blue-green caught my eye as I braced my arms against the wall. They had left my pauldrons on my shoulders, and the sea dragon scale glimmered in the orange torchlight.

“Cas? Are you still alive?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Skies save us,” Zephyr joked weakly.

I laughed, and the movement jostled my broken wings. “Remember that scale Marina gave me?” I shifted my body closer to the door of the cell so we could speak without being overheard. Pain lanced through me with every inch of ground conquered, each labored breath. I paused, taking a moment to reinforce my mind to block Marina from feeling exactly how badly I was hurt. Her anxiety was a faint thrum in the back of my skull, and it wasn’t helping my peace of mind.

“Yeah,” Zephyr replied warily. “What good does that do us?”

“The sea dragon said I would need it,” I gritted out, hissing as I reached our shared wall and rested my ruined back against it. “I’m wondering if it’s a way to call for help.”

“I hate to tell you this,” Zephyr drawled, “but sea dragons can’t swim through stone. How in the bleeding skies could they help us all the way up here?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, eyes catching again on that blue-green scale. Was it my imagination, or was it glowing faintly? Possibly pain had made my vision fuzzy. “But perhaps—”

A clang sounded from the end of the hall as a heavy iron door was opened and shut again, and I stopped speaking as boots scuffed the stone in a heavy tread toward us.

Another quake shook the stone, and pebbles rained down on me, pinging off the iron cuffs and my pauldrons.

“Enjoying your stay?” drawled the Stormcrow as he emerged at the end of the hall, the stoic Captain Vitulus behind him. Ilya turned to glance at the captain. “Leave us.”

Vitulus stiffened in response to the order. He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, nodding curtly and leaving the hall. I frowned, wondering what to make of the interaction.

The Stormcrow waited until we were alone and the soft pad of sandals had dissipated before approaching our cells and crouching down to our level. “I have to say, it’s not nearly as much fun breaking wings when you don’t scream.”

“Thrilled to disappoint you,” I croaked, hoping Vitulus was able to hear. “I wonder how loudly you’ll scream when I kill you?”

The Stormcrow laughed, and I heard Zephyr shift and groan in pain.

“Poor little Zephyr,” Ilya crooned, cocking his head to look at my first mate on her side of the stone wall between us. “What will your dear mate think? Oh wait! She won’t have to see it. You’ll both be dead come dawn.”

“Did you come all the way down here just to crow over us?” I drawled, hoping to needle the bastard. “Selkies not as friendly as you’d hoped?”

“They won’t be my problem for long either,” he scoffed, brushing a speck of dirt off the immaculate toe of his boot. “I won’t have to worry about any of my old enemies once I take back the Isles.”

A faint brush of something, like someone had startled in surprise, came from the open doorway, and I realized why Vitulus hadn’t argued about leaving.

He was still listening.

Before Ilya could look back, I asked, “You and what army?”

Ilya took the bait, as I hoped he would. He grinned. “I’m sure when I blame the selkies for your untimely death—and Zephyr’s of course—your warriors will be hungry for selkie blood. Especially when they find out you were betrayed by your pretty little mate. How they will rage at their foolishness in trusting her. And in trusting you. At dawn, you will die, and I will reclaim the right that was stolen from me when the last true Siren King died”

“You will never be king,” I spat. “Whether I die at dawn or not, the people will never bow to you.”

The Stormcrow stood, pulling his dagger from his belt and using the tip to clean his nails. “Perhaps I won’t kill your little mate, Caspian,” he said thoughtfully, glancing at me with a feral grin that set my teeth on edge. “Perhaps I’ll keep her for myself.”

I snarled, and Ilya strode down the hallway and sheathed his dagger. “Revenge is so sweet, Cas. I do wish you could taste it.”

We were silent as he left, and I waited several heartbeats to make sure the hallway was actually empty before speaking again.

“Villains really shouldn’t monologue,” Zephyr murmured. She hid her pain well in her voice, although I’m sure she was feeling every slight movement in her shattered wings. “Anyone could be listening.”

I choked out a laugh. “I suppose we’ll have to wait to find out. I doubt anything short of him learning he has a siren mate would sway the good captain, but ten gold pieces says he asks Marina about it.”

“Fifteen says he doesn’t,” Zephyr scoffed. “Do you think he does have a mate among us?”

“Probably somewhere. I’m fairly certain Astraios found his among the selkies.”

“Sereia?” Zephyr scoffed. “That tiny thing?”

“Tiny, perhaps,” I agreed, “but she has some kind of hold over him. None of the females caught your eye, then?”

“Ana would skin me alive,” Zephyr sighed, missing her mate as fiercely as I missed mine. “Skies, she’ll kill me if I die here.”

I laughed, despite the anguish I felt, both for her and for Marina. To distract us both, I said, “Five more gold coins that Vitulus has a siren mate.”

“Ten that we die before we can find out,” Zephyr said darkly.