Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The wind whipped at her hair, tangling it like seaweed in a storm.
Ursula stood at the edge of the cliff, the jagged stone cool beneath her bare feet.
Below, the tide crashed against the rocks in frothy bursts, salt spray misting the air and stinging her skin.
The sun's rays stretched across the horizon, casting the sea in shades of gold and rose.
She didn’t dive. She didn’t slip beneath the surface and vanish into the depths where she belonged. The sea called to her, but she waited.
It was a pointless exercise. No one came storming after her.
No firm grasp caught her wrist. No voice—fierce and familiar—called her name, begged her to stay.
There were no heavy bootfalls pounding the path behind her.
No cloak thrown over her shoulders. No arms wrapping around her waist to pull her back into a future she was no longer sure belonged to her.
She had imagined him coming. Had pictured it so clearly; Eric breathless, eyes wild, saying none of it mattered. That she could be Ursula or Ariel or a siren or a liar or all of the above, and still he’d choose her. Still, he’d love her.
But the cliffs remained empty. The only hands touching her now were the wind’s, cool and uncaring. The only voice was the sea’s, rising and falling like her breath.
Still, she waited a moment longer. Just one more.
She wasn’t some weak, wailing thing waiting to be saved. She never had been. She was a queen. And it was time she reclaimed her throne.
A flicker on the horizon. A ship. Her eyes, sharper than any human’s, cut through the mist, focusing on the vessel cresting the waves in the distance. The ocean liner was returning. She recognized the curve of its hull, the flutter of its flags, the glint of golden trim catching the light.
It was moving fast. Too fast. Which meant it was in restricted waters; prime tide for pirates, as it was just above the kraken's nest. Seems the captain was gambling twice. Idiot.
That path had been laid with traps, a device rigged by the pirates, meant to summon the beast and sink the ship.
It was a calculated ploy, one she had set in motion herself, the final step in ensuring that the kingdom’s goods were stolen and funneled into the waiting hands of her treacherous former allies.
She shouldn’t care. The kingdom had turned on her. Eric had turned on her. They would brand her a traitor whether she did something or not.
And yet.
Her feet moved before her mind caught up, propelling her toward the edge of the cliff. Damn it all. She had a kingdom to reclaim, a throne to seize. But first—she had a heist to ruin.
Ursula’s bare feet whispered over the rocks. She reached the end of the cliff and launched herself into the air, the sea rising up to meet her like a dark lover. The surface broke around her with a quiet roar—then silence. Everything else fell away as the water swallowed her whole.
Her body shifted the moment she hit the depths. Her legs fused, muscles tightening, bones realigning. Silken skin shimmered, split by iridescent scales that rippled from her hips to her toes. Her tail unfurled with a snap of motion, sleek and strong, more weapon than limb.
The transformation burned, but the ache was familiar—welcome, even. She exhaled through her gills, bubbles curling past her shoulders, and then she moved. Faster than a current. Faster than thought.
The cold water kissed her skin, rushing past her in silver sheets.
Her hair streamed behind her like red smoke.
Her eyes narrowed as the coral reef loomed ahead—jagged teeth in the dark, and somewhere behind them, the massive shadow of the ocean liner, lumbering right toward the trap she’d helped set.
Up ahead, the familiar slither of twin shadows caught her eye. Flotsam and Jetsam moved as they always did, creeping low along the murky places in the water. Their voices slid through the mist like oil on water—laughing, conspiring, hungry.
She didn’t slow. Didn’t call out. She didn’t need to. They would feel her in the water soon enough.
“Ursula,” Flotsam hissed, his grin stretching wide, too many teeth behind too little warmth. “Where have you been?”
Jetsam coiled out of a reef crevice beside him, his voice slick as oil. “Word is you seduced the prince. Slipped into the castle like a siren in silk. Tell us, love. How many baubles did you get out of him? A crown? A key to the treasury?”
She said nothing. Because they weren’t wrong. That had been the plan once. Sneak into the kingdom. Win the prince. Bleed the Coastal Crown dry and return to the sea draped in stolen silk and power.
But then she thought of Eric standing on the docks, salt in his hair and worry in his eyes.
Of his hands cupping her jaw as he’d whispered his vows—rough and trembling, like he meant them.
She remembered the way he’d nearly drowned after saving his crewmen.
No one had bothered to save him. Except her.
And when she needed him most, he had turned his back on her.
Well, she had been the one to turn her back on him. But he hadn't chased after her.
He'd said he was going to fix the mess she'd made. He probably was. But his way wouldn't work because her initial plan was too good.
Already there were hungry sea creatures gathering in the path of the liner. Sharks and scavengers slunk through the dark, drawn to the sight of a soon-to-be helpless ship. Just like the land folk on the docks, the sea folk in the reef were desperate for scraps.
At least Eric was trying to do something to help his people. Meanwhile, brother dearest and his court kept all the kelp to themselves. The sea folk deserved more than scraps from Triton's tables. But the land-dwellers deserved more as well.
The common sailors, the merchants who worked tirelessly, the fishmongers struggling to make ends meet. Not all humans were villains. Just as not all sea folk were innocent.
And the kraken—it was just another pawn, another beast being manipulated for power, just as she had been.
For too many years, Ursula hadn't played sides. She'd only played for herself. Today she was going to shake all the game pieces up. She was going to do away with the board itself.
“You want to tear that ship apart? Raid what little the humans have? Then what?” she asked, her eyes sweeping the gathering. “The humans will retaliate. The treaty will shatter. The sea will become a war zone.”
A rumble of discontent rippled through the predators and scavengers. Jetsam hissed beneath his breath. Flotsam stayed still, his gaze narrowing on her.
Ursula was no longer a pirate. Nor a castoff princess. She was Queen of the Coastlands.
“We do not have to be scavengers. I have the Coastal King’s ear. He’s a fair man. He listens."
That was the truth. Eric had listened to her. He'd even taken her advice and gave her the credit. He might be angry with her now, but he would listen.
"I have helped you raid. I have lined your pockets with stolen goods. And yet we have always had to keep coming back for more. There's another way. A way where you will no longer have to scrape by. Who's with me?"