Chapter 67
Syrena
Syrena lounged back on her throne, one arm draped lazily across its armrest as her opposite hand twirled the Aeress trident. The sound of its shaft scraping against the marble floor echoed in the cavernous chamber, in hopes to draw her prisoner’s eyes to it.
Across from her, arms spread apart and shackled against the wall, was Lephyrin’s soon-to-be queen.
Her hair hung in disarray, her once luminous brown skin was now faded to a dull pallor, and her wrists were rubbed raw where the manacles bit into her.
And shining in the light was that lovely little velsinyte ring adorning her finger, keeping her mind control powers at bay.
But even beaten down, she carried herself with a stubborn quiet, refusing to give Syrena the satisfaction of fear she craved.
It was extremely fucking irritating, but it was the least of her problems.
And bravery always looked sweet right before it broke.
“Do forgive the sudden change of scenery,” Syrena purred, tilting her head. Her voice dripped with mockery as she studied the girl like a cat would a cornered mouse. “You’re far too valuable to leave sitting down there in chains when your precious little king is tearing through my halls.”
The elven’s golden eyes widened, her brows lifting half-way up her forehead.
“Yes… he’s here. Isn’t that just darling?
” Syrena leaned forward, eyes glittering.
“Racing through my kingdom, slaughtering my guards, and thinking love will carry him to your side.” A low laugh rippled from her throat.
“It’s almost cute. But the only place that love will take you both is to your graves.
And now you’ll be used as bait to capture them. ”
The great doors slammed open and Azarian strode in before dropping to a knee before her. “Kaelypso is in the harbor.”
At that, Syrena rose and she stepped down from the dais. Her smile sharpened, showing the faintest edge of teeth.
“Good,” she said, satisfaction rolling through her. Her gaze flicked to the chained female, savoring the faintest widening of her eyes. “Everything is falling into place. Let her thrash and rage. Every ounce of power she spends weakens her for me.”
She trailed her fingers over the trident’s shaft in her hand. “Our plan is working.”
Their laughter echoed through the throne room like a curse.
Then a sound cut through the chamber, muffled at first, before swelling louder. Shouts, steel ringing, the clang of armor, and clashing of blades. Then several screams cut too short to mean the person was still living.
Syrena straightened, her smile tightening as her head tilted toward the doors. Azarian shifted uneasily, jaw clenched. The elven woman’s head snapped up, eyes burning with a sudden, desperate hope that almost made Syrena grin.
Silence came suddenly after.
And then—
BANG.
The massive doors flew open, crashing against the walls hard enough to send cracks spiraling through the ancient stone. Smoke and shadow spilled through the threshold like a living tide.
Draevyn stepped in first, flame licking over his shoulders and crawling down his arms, his eyes molten embers that locked onto Syrena. She didn’t miss the three brutal scars slashed across one of them as his stare remained on her with a predator’s focus.
Lephyrin’s new king stalked just behind him, shadows curling at his boots, already reaching in several directions. And then the rest of their crew poured in, their weapons raised.
Finally.
“Well,” Syrena purred, placing her hands on her hips, “it’s about fucking time, boys.”
Her eyes flicked to the chained female, then back to them, lingering just long enough to make her meaning clear.
The king’s breath caught when his gaze snapped to his soon-to-be wife and queen.
“Elowynne!” he bellowed.
Golden eyes lifted, wide and dripping with tears as they locked onto his. “Atlas,” she rasped, voice barely more than a broken whisper.
Oh, please. Syrena suppressed rolling her eyes.
Shadows surged along Atlas’s shoulders, his rage spilling out on display. “Release her!”
Syrena could tell he was aching to run to his bride, to tear the chains apart with his teeth.
A sharp laugh sliced through the air as Syrena squared her shoulders, watching him. “Oh… look at him. So devoted. So in love.” Her voice dripped with mockery, sweet as poison.
She tilted her head, feigning pity as her tone sank into venom. “Did you miss her, shadow king? Did your heart ache for her while she rotted in chains?”
“Enough!” Atlas bellowed, shadows thickening, his fingers twitching at his sides.
“Aw, so protective,” she crooned, her smile curling sharp. “Why don’t you come and take her, then? She’s right there, isn’t she? What’s stopping you?”
“Atlas, don’t you fucking move,” Draevyn ordered. “She’s baiting you.”
Syrena’s eyes turned to him, and she gave him a dainty wave with her fingers. “So lovely to see you, Draevyn. Now, tell me, is your brother aware of who brought his wife here in chains to begin with?” She clicked her tongue.
Both brothers went rigid.
“After all, Esmyra is the one who dragged Elowynne here. Bloodied and screaming for mercy.” Syrena flashed them her teeth.
Atlas snapped. He lunged forward as shadows shot like black spears across the floor, rushing toward her.
Typical.
Her smile widened. “Not so fast.”
Syrena unleashed her power then.
It came as a crushing force that cracked the stone beneath them, a surge of divine energy that slammed into their chests and hurled them all back against the walls.
They all crashed down to the ground. Shadows writhed and struggled to form, only embers sparked at fingertips, and limbs stretched for out-of-reach blades.
Syrena raised her hands, and the very air seemed to pulse as water materialized and rose from the floor instantly. Streams wrapped around the intruders, thousands of pounds of liquid constricting and writhing as each drop obeyed her command.
She smiled, savoring the panic in their eyes. The water lifted them from the stone floor, spinning them upward, twisting their limbs and restricting them. Every time they struggled against her hold, it only fed her exhilaration, and she pressed into them further.
“Fight all you want,” she said, “but you’re mine now.”
The waves tightened, biting at their armor, drenching them, pulling at their bodies as if they were nothing more than toys in her grasp.
Flames continuously tried to erupt from Draevyn, instantly extinguishing and turning to nothing but steam beneath her magic’s hold. Shadows tried to jet through Atlas’s, stabbing the whirling tides repeatedly, unable to break through.
Syrena held them suspended in the air, their eyes wide with fear, their screams muffled by the rushing waters climbing over their lips.
She could feel every heartbeat, every pulse of terror, and she drank it in like the sweetest wine. The sheer, overwhelming control over them made her feel invincible.
“Welcome to your reckoning. Did you truly think you could kill a god?!” she taunted.
“They can’t…” A voice boomed through the room.
Syrena’s triumphant smile froze the instant the air shifted. A pulse of raw energy tore through the room, the force of it so commanding that the water in her grasp quivered.
Her eyes snapped to the entrance just as Esmyra crashed through, a torrent of power radiating from her like a storm.
Syrena’s control slipped, the tight vortexes around Draevyn, Atlas, and the crew wobbling, some spilling partially back to the floor.
An unbearable pressure suddenly built all around her, and then she was violently thrown through the air. The world around her spun, until finally, her body slammed against the far wall, the impact reverberating through her chest.
Syrena fell to the floor, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Lifting her stare to meet her twin’s, she let out a snarl.
A vicious smile curved Esmyra’s lips as she twirled a velsinyte-tipped spear in her hand.
“But I can,” she finished. “Welcome to your reckoning, Sister.”