Chapter 12
Scorching Betrayal
ALASTAIR
Collapsing the telescope, I exhaled deeply, staring over the vast open waters. “What in the gods’ name are you up to, Caspian?”
We’d left Darswyth, sailing north of Serevalen through the Blooming Tide.
Following their tail, we’d veered east, encroaching on territory that extended beyond the continent I’d once considered home.
As the miles stretched on, our travels became far more extensive than we’d anticipated, and seven days passed with ease.
I couldn’t help but question just how much of the sea he and his crew had explored—how much they’d influenced.
With the continent of Wraelira no longer in our sight, an island appeared. Caspian’s ship sat docked at its shore.
The island appeared simple, while the air around it carried something intangible; something darker clung to every breath we took as soon as we entered the newfound jurisdiction.
The greenery Serevalen held became an afterthought, replaced by black sandy shores.
Numerous gothic-style buildings peeked in the distance, their hues reinforcing the sense of insecurity.
Shaped like a crescent moon, the island’s form matched the mythical aura it carried.
The only color that bloomed came from the port’s light wooden planks and the various creatures sitting on the dock unloading shipments.
Where the fuck are we?
“It’s uncharted,” Leilani stated from behind me, her booted footfalls closing the gap between us. “There isn’t a single mark on any of the maps that even hints at this island’s existence.”
“Then how the hell did he find it?”
“Chance?” she questioned, stroking her hand across my back before combing her fingers through my hair. “Luck? It’s hard to say when it comes to Caspian Vayne.”
The gravest understatement of the century.
Where I functioned on logic, Caspian ran on the fumes of recklessness, determined to do whatever was necessary to remain free from the shackles of civility.
He was harsh in a way I was composed, marking each of us as the other’s fated counteracting force.
Our differing personalities led to countless clashes throughout our childhood, but we remained tied at the hip, unable to stomach the idea of separation because of the shadows our pasts harbored—shadows we once shared.
As we aged, Caspian fell deeper into a hunger-filled pit I never understood until the night he got me on a ship.
We not only became crewmates but brothers at sea.
Once a team and feared by all those we passed, we got whatever we wanted, whether it was treasure, women, men, or sex. The riches we submerged ourselves in were unspeakable, a life I envisioned myself living for as long as Ysalyne, the Goddess of Life, granted me the beacon of continued existence.
We’d sailed together for nearly eight years, traversing uncharted territory and throwing ourselves into the fire for one another more times than I could count.
It all seemed like a dream, something too good to be true considering all the gods had torn from my already bleeding hands, but that’s exactly what it came to.
Caspian drove his sword into my stomach and left me to die on the salty waters of a sanctuary that’d witnessed both of us at our most vulnerable moments.
He was vile.
He was a traitor.
He was my enemy.
I no longer gave a fuck about the complexities of connectivity that humans craved—Leilani the only exception.
I’d stopped pursuing it when I woke up on a different ship, being stitched back together by the men I now led, even when they knew I was beyond repair.
Where many once defined me as the epitome of care and gentleness, they’d learned to see me as something entirely different as the years went on.
I was no longer the logical or understanding one, nor did I ever care to become that weak again.
Instead, I’d shifted into the one willing to tear the world apart until my hands were around the throat of the one I once cared for more than myself, a direct mirror of the man I’d given everything for.
My best fucking friend.
He’d turned on me without batting an eye, stealing every ounce of all we’d built together—fortunes, luxury, trust, love—unraveling everything I thought I knew.
It wasn’t my Cas who stared soullessly into my eyes that night as everything burned to the ground around us; it was Caspian Vayne who snuffed out my flame as soon as the serrated steel of his preferred weapon introduced itself to my internal organs.
“Captain!” The title pulled me back from the surge of darkness that swathed my mind, my attention snapping to the crewmate—Colby—who’d beckoned for me.
“What?” I snarled, the single word containing every ounce of billowing agitation that I carried.
He lifted a hand, gesturing at the coastline, and my gaze followed. Another ship approached the port, its vibrant, nearly flawless wood gleaming in the sun. The aura that emanated from it belonged only to one, and I couldn’t help but grin as soon as the realization dawned.
Malrik Ravelle, head of the assassins.
“Well, isn’t this interesting?” I hummed, pushing myself from the railing of the forecastle.
Moving from the upper portion of the ship, my palm slid down the smoothed railing before I landed on the main deck.
Without missing a beat, I twisted my wrist with two fingers cast skyward, ordering those manning the sails to ensure we held position.
Continuing my path, I approached the starboard, my forearms resting against the gunwale as I stared at the unmarked land beyond.
The incoming ship docked with the pristine expertise of deckhands that the king had paid off to ensure one of his most affluent pawns remained taken care of.
A handful of men jumped onto the planks, tying the royal monstrosity to the awaiting cleats.
The surrounding water seemed to bend to the will of the man housing the captain’s quarters; each wave lulled into a quietened state, not daring to test the tolerability of a male renowned for his ruthlessness.
“Ace,” Leilani muttered, joining my side once more. “What the fuck is Ravelle doing out here?”
A gentle breeze gathered my hair, tossing my auburn-blonde waves back as I turned to find her beautiful mocha stare. “That, my little fang, is a brilliant question. Arthur mentioned that he’d seen Caspian in Darswyth, but not in his usual manner.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was chasing after a woman.” I smiled, turning my chin back toward our newest arrival. “It seems Mr. Vayne may have stolen from someone he shouldn’t have.”