16. Devourer of Souls
Devourer of Souls
CASPIAN
Asharp snap ripped through the air, the wind threatening to tear through the intricately woven canvas sails as if they were made of paper. Pelting the deck, the rain wasted no time dampening the clothes of Malrik’s men as they struggled to control the braces beneath Ellira’s wrath.
Oh, little siren, you’re well aware of my approach, aren’t you?
Positioned on the sterncastle deck, I leaned against the mizzenmast with my arms folded over my chest. Unbothered by the indignation of my Mizani’s mother, I opted to test the Goddess of the Sea’s willingness to keep me alive, not offering a hand to the man responsible for Rohen’s torment.
Instead of providing aid Malrik’s crew desperately needed, I watched his every move, pondering just how long he would stay alive if I carved every layer of flesh from his bones with my most rusted blade.
As if sensing my dissecting gaze, Malrik peered over his shoulder at me. Navy blue strands plastered to the side of his neck, the royal purple bandana he wore soaked through to a near-black. Dark brows narrowing, indignation pulsed from him in building waves.
“You’re quite the added weight, aren’t you?”
A chuckle escaped me, but it lacked any ounce of amusement. “I work for Sorva, not you. Steer the fucking ship, Captain.”
His lips curled into a sneer, a low growl threatening to strangle his utterance. “You’re on my godsdamned ship!”
“I believe our Beloved Other ordered your obedience, which implies you shut your fucking mouth and get us to Hollowmere.” Craning my head to the side, I challenged his slipping patience.
“Do you wish for me to summon her with my essence so she can repeat her expectations? Or would you rather be a good bitch and avoid her punishment?”
His hands slipped from the wheel, and he pivoted, dagger unsheathed and ship unmanned.
Flipping the hilt in his palm, he slashed toward me, the blade’s steel backbone resting against his forearm.
Before its sharpened point could connect, I ducked with a smirk as the vessel sharply drifted to the right without warning.
“Seems your temper is just as small as your prick,” I shouted over the crack of thunder, the chill of my father’s shadows weaving between my fingers.
Malrik’s shoulders rose with a seething inhale, steam seeming to billow from him as his ire simmered. Adjusting his hold once more, he cut through the incessant storm just as I stepped back, avoiding yet another deadly laceration.
“You wish to test your luck consistently, don’t you, Son?”
“He is the one who released the helm as we navigate Ellira’s tides. His stupidity is not my prerogative.”
Elaros huffed, but his grin was easily decipherable.
“He stated something factual. You are on his ship and traversing the dangerous waters leading to Hollowmere. The land itself seems to harbor its own will, and the sea responds accordingly, making navigation into the fog-laden town deadly. So, yes, his stupidity is your prerogative.”
“If that is the case,” I dodged Malrik again, “then revoke your shadows.”
“That is not me,” he hummed with a pitch of pride.
With a subtle rock, I spun on my heels, Malrik’s dagger slicing at a small rain-soaked curl.
He snarled at his continued failure, and that familiar power bloomed within me.
It was one I was used to feeling anytime Elaros was near, but there was a tinge of something deadlier within it, something innately me.
“What are you insinuating? You aided me in briefly slipping from Sorva’s hold and wielding a bow and arrow crafted from the essence of your realm. That was recent, so this… It’s improbable.”
“It is not,” Elaros reassured, the tendrils of his presence brushing against the bond we shared.
“You are my Son, meaning you harbor my power. Stepping into that acceptance, as well as your Mizani doing the same with her mother, is what is granting you more free rein. This is you, Caspian. A Child of a God, a Divari, demonstrating your prowess. As my vessel and the one who will take—”
A choked groan flooded the back of my mind as my father’s voice and proximity vanished entirely.
Panic ignited at the sudden shift, burning into a searing rage as the realization settled—Sorva had prevented him from finishing, from being honest with me.
She had, yet again, silenced him just as she continued to silence me.
Even knowing the commonality we shared, I had never felt him fade like that when toeing the line between bind and truth before. He’d always remained prominent, his pain merging with me until a dull ache settled, but now…
Now I couldn’t sense him at all.
As my thoughts clawed through the darkness that his absence left, Malrik’s foot collided with my chest, and I slammed back into the mast. Oxygen dissipated as my back met the unforgiving wood, a grunt my attempt at gathering air.
Frigid steel found my throat, nipping at sensitive flesh with a bloodlust it seemed to share with its wielder.
Nose brushing against my cheek, Malrik hissed, “The desire to butcher you grows every fucking day, Vayne. But you want to know what I would enjoy more? Taking Rohen in front of you while you’re forced to watch like the obedient cunt you are to our Beloved Other, who you seem to believe gives a fuck about you. ”
A lividness so potent washed over me as crimson coated my vision.
Protectiveness followed, buried deep within me to the point it became carnal, and with it, I felt the flicker of a connection.
It was so brief I nearly missed it as my left arm shot up between Malrik and me, and rotated with enough force to not only free myself from his weapon but to dislocate his shoulder.
The cry he released wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the rasped groan that came from him as my hand clamped down on his throat.
With a harsh tug, I rotated our positions and hoisted him off the ground, the mast serving as a point of connection for me to leverage.
Grip constricting further, the strength of my lineage that loomed in the shadows of my soul crept outward, and I watched with satisfaction as the life drained from Malrik’s near-white irises.
His veins turned inky black, quickly becoming more prominent around his eyes.
Mouth open, that same darkness devoured the back of his throat and the insides of his cheeks, sluggishly prowling toward his lips as my power feasted on his life force.
His complexion quickly became pallid, and the fingers he dug into my forearms to free himself weakened.
“I will fucking drink you dry, Malrik Ravelle,” I seethed, the words belonging to me but sounding nothing like me—otherworldly. “I will drain your essence until only a fraction of you remains, and then I will keep you alive to continue feasting on you over and over and over again.”
“C-Caspian… Stop… You c-can’t—”
“Caspian!” A familiar feminine voice called, but it was so distant it barely registered.
Sapphira.
Before I could lash out at her for her willingness to stop me from murdering the man responsible for the pain my other half endured, a sharp metallic tang flooded my mouth.
No longer guiding my own actions, my hold on Malrik loosened, and I took a step back before my knees collided with the rain-soaked deck.
Heaving, my palm flattened against the damp wood to stabilize myself.
All that came was blood. Mouthfuls of my life force escaped me as I retched, blinding affliction erupting across my back where Sorva had carved her claim into my skin.
My vision blurred as I failed to catch my breath, hand trembling as my nails raked through the worn planks.
A touch settled on my shoulder, warmth crawling up my side as Saph slid herself beneath my arm. “Hey… Hey. I’ve got you, Cas. Come on. I need you to stand up for me…”
Her words faded as the sharp shing of metal rubbed against scabbard. Tension polluted the air, carrying with it dark royalty, an unknown presence nearly as malicious as Sorva’s billowing across the ship. As it lingered, Saph clutched at the drenched fabric of my shirt, her frame unwavering.
“I am not imprisoned by her bind,” my navigator snarled, her wrath poisoning the stormy sky. “So if you wish to keep your innards, I suggest manning the helm and guiding this godsdamned ship out of the mess you’ve elected to steer it toward, Malrik.”
The Overseer of Assassins chuckled, though it was devoid of its usual mockery and strength. “I never took you for a caring woman, Sapphira.”
“Our family doesn’t run on hierarchy, prick. Now get back to your duties as a failing captain before I cut your legs from your torso.”
“Very well then,” Malrik crooned as he took two steps before stopping. “Though, let it be warned that the next time your captain wishes to challenge me, I’m certain he won’t survive the outcome.”
Coughs racked my frame as if he commanded them, but Saph’s boiling ire swallowed Malrik’s threat.
“Continue acting like you mean something in this world, Ravelle. You’re nothing more than a human pawn that Sorva plans to use, just as she is using me to keep an eye on Caspian.
There is nothing that awaits you but death, and believe me when I tell you I am fully confident in that claim.
Misery is all a male as pitiful as you deserves, especially when your cock proves as useless as your mouth. ”