Chapter 37
Esmyra
The world came back to Esmyra in sharp, jagged pieces.
The scent of salt. The taste of iron on her lips. A searing ache radiating through her entire body.
Esmyra’s eyes fluttered open, the dim light of a torch casting shadows on the walls of the brig. Her head was lulled toward her chest, her arms pulled tight over her head and bound to the wall that rested at her back.
Chains clinked against her wrists as she stirred, and a bolt of pain shot through her spine. Her body screamed, but she didn’t think her voice could if she tried, her throat aching and dry. She was riddled with bruises and raw at the joints, like she’d been dragged through the depths of hell.
She tried to sit up and straighten her back, but even that was barely manageable. Every movement felt wrong, like her body was fighting against her.
Esmyra felt no heartbeat of the sea. No whispering pull of the tide. No flicker of the storm within her veins.
Her magic—no, her divinity—was gone.
Esmyra’s panic didn’t come all at once. It seeped in slowly, a cold, creeping thing hollowing her out. Her fingers flexed as they remained bound above her head, desperate to summon a single droplet of water or a spark of lightning, but nothing answered.
The velsinyte net. The sickly weight of it, of how it clung to her like a second skin the second it dropped down onto her, robbing her of every drop of power.
Her head rolled back against the wall as a bitter laugh escaped her lips. She was trapped like some common thief in the belly of her enemy’s ship. One of Lephyrin’s ships. She didn’t need to see the royal insignia on the rusted bars to know.
Would Draevyn think I ran?
A fresh wave of pain hit her chest, raw and scorching her from the inside out. Not just from the loss of her magic… but from the memory of him. His eyes, his hands on her thighs, the sound of his voice trying to reason with and reach her.
And he had. Draevyn had managed to get her stubborn ears to listen to him when she swore to herself she never would again. It made her realize that all her grief, all her heartbreak and suffering wasn’t by his hands, but by her sister’s.
And now she was all alone.
Esmyra brought her knees to her chest and let her head drop forward, listening to the creak of the hull, the distant sound of waves crashing against the wood, and the stomping of boots overhead.
Atlas had said they were bringing her to Sumnae, where they planned to break her. And if she couldn’t fight with her power, she’d have to fight with something else.
Patience, hatred, and spite were a few things that came to mind. And the rage of a goddess stripped down to her bones.
Atlas had threatened her with their magic, but they wouldn’t be able to break into her mind so long as she wore velsinyte… so perhaps there was a way she could use this to break free.
Let them free her of these velsinyte bindings and drown them where they fucking stood the moment her power came back.
Esmyra didn’t hate that idea. She liked it quite a bit, actually.
The door creaked above her, the wooden steps groaning beneath the weight of heavy boots as someone stormed down the stairs.
She had played this game many times before, only then she was the one on the opposite side of the bars. Staring down at the floor, she refused to give him the satisfaction of thinking she’d been waiting for someone to come.
“Well,” came Atlas’s voice, amused and borderline cruel. “The sea goddess, reduced to a wet, shivering prisoner in my brig. How poetic.”
Her eyes flicked upward slowly, like storm clouds dragging across the sky. She was surprised to see he wasn’t alone. The man who dragged her from the alleyway before knocking her out—Varis, she believed his name was—accompanied him, standing a few feet behind.
She met Atlas’s gaze, unflinching.
“Come to gloat, little king?” she rasped, her voice raw.
It was the first time she spoke since waking up, and every word was agony. The pain was a physical force that wracked her body, yet she managed to mask her suffering, refusing to show him any sign of weakness.
This wasn’t like any other time she’d been trapped in the substance before. It felt different, as if the velsinyte was somehow splitting her spine open.
Atlas crouched just beyond the bars, hands folded over one knee like he was observing a caged animal. “I came to see the witch who managed to turn my brother against me.” He shrugged. “Wanted to see what all the hype is about. You surely must be something special.”
His cold dark eyes roamed over her. She was used to hunger lingering in the gaze of those who stared at her, but there was none in the newly crowned king’s. Only pure, unrelenting hatred.
Esmyra smiled faintly. “I’ve never said a word against you to your brother. Perhaps he realized you’re much closer to becoming your father than even you believe.”
She loathed how weak her voice sounded, but she knew the words hit their mark.
His grin dropped, his expression tightening. “Careful. You’re in my sea now. You have no magic to protect you. No water to drown me with nor lightning to strike me down. It’s just you, me, and the consequences of your choices.”
“You captured and tried to slaughter my crew.”
He let the silence stretch for a moment before saying, “It really is a shame I only succeeded with half of them.”
Esmyra’s mind emptied, her eyes flaring while her lip curled back in a furious snarl. “You son of a bitch!”
“Their fates were sealed the moment they decided to sail beneath you. They were traitors to Lephyrin.” He tilted his head, all mock sympathy. “And let’s not forget, you killed my king. My father.”
She tried to lunge forward, but the chains snapped her back against the wall. “That bastard deserved it!”
“Did he deserve it, Esmyra?” Atlas barked, rising to stand. “You think revenge makes you righteous? That your pain is holy because it drips with power and grief?”
He looked her up and down, disgust written into every feature of his face. A face so painfully like Draevyn’s that it nearly made her chest crack open and bleed out on the floor.
“Did Elowynne deserve it?” he boomed, his cheeks flushing red with anger. “Did she deserve to be captured by you and hauled away from her betrothed and kingdom? She did nothing to you, and yet, you brought her into it!”
“She assaulted me with her magic!” she screeched, her wrists burning as she pulled against the velsinyte restraints, baring her teeth. “She made me see, made me believe horrible things. Your little elven wasn’t innocent.”
“She did that to protect me!” Shadows lashed out from Atlas’s palms, through the bars of her cell, halting mere inches from her face. The cords in her neck pulled tight, every muscle threatening to snap as she stared at them.
“She isn’t worth the trouble, Your Majesty,” Varis said. “I made sure she’s no threat.”
But Atlas only held up a hand to halt him, his eyes remaining on her.
“Drae believes you to be a goddess, but I see no god here,” he began again, his dark tendrils slowly retreating. “You’re nothing but a ghost dragging him into your grave. And I fucking refuse to let that happen.”
Esmyra’s breathing came in heavy gasps as fury threaded through every shattered piece of her. “Your father broke a bargain that he knowingly had no intention of keeping. So, while I may be a fool for believing him… what I have become was at your father’s hand.”
Shadows swirled around Atlas’s wrists as he listened, his nose still turned up in distaste.
Esmyra’s vision turned blurry at the edges as tears stung the back of her eyes. “I tried to be better. For Draevyn—” Her voice cracked on his name. “I tried to be better for him. But you Rowes do nothing but take and take and take. And now—”
“Now you’re here,” he interrupted, stepping closer to the bars, wrapping his fingers around them as he stared down at her. “Powerless and alone. And your rage has left you with nothing. Not even him.”
Her lips parted as pain seared her throat. His smile grew wider, knowing his words struck true.
“Does it haunt you?” he started again, his voice low. “That he chose me over you? That he’s the reason you’re here?”
Esmyra assumed that if there was anything left of her heart, that it would’ve shattered right then and there. But she held his gaze, unflinching, even as her knuckles whitened against the chains.
It was then she finally realized Draevyn wouldn’t do that to her.
He wouldn’t have held her down and begged for her to listen to him if he planned to just hand her over to his brother.
The man always had nothing but her best interest at heart, and never again would she believe lies about him without further proof.
Esmyra was done being a puppet whose strings were pulled in whatever direction others desired. She was done being a weapon in other people’s pawns. And she was done being manipulated.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, voice like a rising tide as her stare lifted back to his.
Atlas’s smile faded. “Elowynne better be unharmed once we get her back. Not only for your sake, but for Draevyn’s as well.”
Her eyes flared, her head tilting in confusion as he threatened his brother’s life, but she said nothing.
“Varis here is acting as my aide and advisor,” Atlas said. “His first duty is dealing with you. So, if I were you, I’d be a good little siren for him. He’s known to be much more brutal than I.”
Esmyra’s stare lifted to the man. He gave her a dainty wave accompanied by a creepy grin. She bared her teeth at him.
Atlas lingered a moment longer then turned with a cold scoff and ascended the steps, the echo of his boots chasing him into the dark.
“Pardon the damage dealt to that pretty body of yours.” Varis’s grin turned feral. “I just couldn’t take any chances for my new king.”
The sickening look in his gaze had nausea climbing her throat. Her brows furrowed in answer as she looked down at herself, and he took that as his excuse to leave. A moment later, he was following Atlas up the stairs.
What the fuck could he mean by that?
Esmyra slumped back against the wall, the heat of her fury boiling beneath her aching skin. She had no power, no allies, and no means to escape. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to do.