Chapter 31
Draevyn
The Kraken’s Alehouse was loud; cigar smoke filled the air as the isle’s humidity clung to every inch of Draevyn’s skin.
He had been searching all night. Question after question, lead after lead.
It all led to nothing but dead ends. Their crews had scattered through the port of Anchorage Cove, looking for any sign of someone seeing or hearing of Esmyra, but no one had come forward since they made port.
There had been no sightings of her, nor was there a trail to where she may have gone.
The weight of yet another failure hung heavy on Draevyn’s shoulders, and that violent ache in his chest was beginning to feel hollower than anything.
Giving up wasn’t an option, but he was ready to leave.
His mug was nearly empty, and his patience even more so.
The last time he’d been at this tavern was the night he met Esmyra.
The night she had picked him out from a crowd of criminals, and the night everything changed.
He stood from his table in the center of the tavern, and as he turned to head for the door, a glimmer in the candlelight caught his eye. He pivoted back to face that shining light, and his eyes flared as they landed on a lone figure across the space, tucked in the farthest corner.
Midnight hair fell in waves down to her waist, and the glacial color of her eyes pierced through the shadows of her hood.
A silver mug was clutched in one hand as she fidgeted with it, which was the source of that scattering light.
But tracing up that very hand, along the skin of her wrist were… runes.
Draevyn’s breath caught as a cold ripple moved down his spine.
No. It couldn’t be.
He blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. This couldn’t be real… she couldn’t be real. Perhaps he was losing his mind and hallucinating, envisioning her there, waiting for him in that same booth they sat in long ago.
And yet, no matter how many times he blinked, Esmyra remained. She appeared just as he remembered her, and she didn’t blur or shift or fade away like the cruel mirage he half expected her to turn into.
Esmyra was here. In Anchorage Cove, sitting in a corner all alone.
He wasn’t sure if he had taken a single breath since he laid eyes on her. His chest cracked open slightly at the sight. There was something about the stillness in her that made her somehow look older. Not in her face, but in her soul, like her wildfire had completely snuffed out.
Draevyn’s spine straightened, his pulse thundering. And then he was moving before he even realized. His first few steps were slow and cautious as his breath became shallow in his throat.
But then Esmyra looked up, her eyes finding him instantly as if she sensed him.
Their stares met across the tavern and the world came to a sudden halt. It was like the floor dropped out from beneath him. For one endless second, the tavern’s roar faded to a distant hum. Their surroundings dissipated entirely, and the only thing that existed to him was her.
Draevyn’s feet were once again rooted where he stood as the heat of his memories burned in his chest. Memories of her laugh, of the fire in her eyes when she fought or was being defiant, and of the way she used to look at him before everything went to shit.
But then Esmyra quickly stood and abandoned her table, bolting across the room as she shoved through the rowdy crowd.
“Fuck,” Draevyn muttered. He should’ve known she would make this difficult.
It was one of his favorite things about her.
She cut through the crowded room, weaving between and camouflaging herself among the surrounding men. The tavern swallowed her in seconds.
“No—” Draevyn lunged after her, shoving his way between pirates and merchants and drunks. “Wait!” he bellowed, his hand reaching for her as if she was within reach.
He crashed through the crowd, knocking into shoulders as he barreled forward, and patrons shouted.
“ESMYRA!” he bellowed, but it was drowned out by the chaos.
Laughter and curses and shouts filled the tavern like fog, disorienting him as panic crept in that he may have already lost her.
A drunkard stepped in front of him, but Draevyn quickly shoved him aside, sending a tray of drinks flying from a barmaid’s hands. Glass shattered, scuttering across the floor as someone grabbed at his coat.
“Watch it, you bastard!”
Draevyn whirled on the man holding him by his jacket. The man’s arm was already reared back, his hand balling into a fist as he moved to send it into Draevyn’s face.
Fucking Irah. He didn’t have time for this.
But the man swung before he could react, his fist cracking against Draevyn’s jaw, snapping his head to the side. Pain bloomed across his face, rekindling every flicker of rage he’d been feeling these past several weeks.
Draevyn’s jaw locked, and with a growl, he grabbed the man’s shirt and slammed him back against the bar. He stood over the man, chest heaving as he screamed, “Stay the fuck out of my way.”
The pirate swung again, but Draevyn dodged it as he sent his own fist into the man’s ribs, and then the other into his cheek. With an uproar of shouts and taunts—a mix of bloodthirsty demands for a fight and panicked cries of fear—the crowd backed away from the scene.
Draevyn felt like a caged animal, and sparks were ready to erupt from his fingertips as the drunken moron lunged at him again.
He stepped aside, caught the man by the collar, and flung him across a nearby table.
Its wood splintered under the weight as drinks flew through the air and chairs tipped over onto the floor.
Draevyn’s heart was thundering. Not just from the brawl, but from hope, and maybe even a bit of terror. He didn’t have a plan; he didn’t have a single clue of what he’d say if he caught Esmyra. All he knew was he had to reach her, and this could be his only chance.
He glimpsed the tail end of her cloak fluttering near the rear of the tavern, her long, dark hair flowing behind her as she slipped past a heavy curtain near the back.
He surged forward, his shoulder slamming into a wall as he skidded around the corner she fled behind.
Gone.
Draevyn didn’t understand why she was running in the first place, but he chased after her regardless. He would always chase his Wildfire. He would follow his goddess to the ends of their world and beyond if that’s what it took.
The realm had given up on her, making her feel alone and trapped. And he vowed to shield her from those who labeled her a monster, ensuring she’d never feel the sting of loneliness again. Draevyn would protect her for as long as his lungs breathed air.
He burst into the rear corridor, where the shadows grew thicker as the lanterns flickered low. A side door creaked open, still swinging from when she must have raced out. He lunged for it and yanked it wide before stumbling into an alleyway.
His steps came to a skidding halt, his hands flying out at his sides to steady himself as he took in his surroundings.
The alley was empty, and Esmyra was nowhere in sight.
The only sound aside from the whistle of the night’s breeze was the open window above, its shutter banging against the wall in the wind.
Draevyn stared up at the crescent moon, chest heaving as a few drops of rain dripped from the eaves.
“No, no, no. Godsdammit,” he bellowed as he kicked a bucket out into the streets.
He couldn’t fucking believe this had happened. Pressing his palms into his eyes, he tried to come up with a new plan as he steadied his rapid breaths.
It hadn’t been fear in her eyes when their stares met across that tavern, but it wasn’t hate either.
He knew hate—knew her hate and what it looked like.
What was on Esmyra’s face was just… shock.
Confusion, maybe. Likely wondering why he would be in Anchorage Cove in the first place.
The look in her eyes was the same raging chaos tearing through him now.
Did she think he was there on behalf of the crown?
A sharp whistle sliced through the air, and Draevyn’s eyes flared as his head snapped up.
There, above him, silhouetted by the silver moon, Esmyra sat on the edge of the rooftop.
One knee was pulled tight to her chest as her other leg hung over the ledge.
Her hair whipped around her face in wild strands, and even from this distance, he could see the gleam of mischief in her glacial eyes.
Esmyra gave him a lazy salute. “What’s the matter, baby?” Her voice carried to him, taunting and velvet-smooth with just enough bite to sink into his skin. “Am I not as easy to catch as you thought?”
There’s my Wildfire.
Draevyn stepped into the middle of the street and gave her a crooked grin. “Just didn’t think anything could ever scare you enough to make you run. Except maybe a krechuum or two.”
She laughed—a low, husky sound that rattled his soul.
“Oh, Phoenix,” she purred, inspecting her talons as they slid out on display. “Still bitter I left Lephyrin without saying goodbye? Or are you here to arrest me because I took your brother’s pretty prize?”
So, she did have Elowynne.
“I’m more bitter about how you’ll listen to the words of a stranger over seeking the truth.” He took a step forward, his neck still craned to look at her. “Now tell me, what did your darling sister say happened that day?” He couldn’t help the growl in the last few words.
Her smirk dropped as she twirled a dagger between her fingers. “Nothing worth repeating. Why waste time on ancient history? It did repeat itself after all.”
“How so?” he challenged.
Her eyes narrowed. “Irah couldn’t be trusted after he plunged a blade into Kaelypso’s heart, and neither can you after what you did to mine.”
She pushed herself to her feet, and her words felt like a bullet through his chest. He knew that was her intention, and gods, had it struck true.
“Is that what this is, Draevyn Rowe?” she continued. “Are you hunting me now to try to speak your truth?” A vicious giggle slipped from her. “That’s cute.”