Chapter 17
Nerina
The Black Marrow
I sat across from him, my fingers wrapped tight around the glass he’d given me. The liquid inside was dark—nearly black in the lantern’s dim glow—but I couldn’t tell if it was the drink or the conversation that left a bitter taste in my mouth.
"Start from the beginning," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Alaric leaned back, fingers tapping idly against the worn wood of the desk. "You really want to know?"
I nodded. "I asked, didn’t I?"
He exhaled slowly, deciding how much truth he was willing to give.
"It started with greed and ignorance," he admitted.
"Mine. I wanted more—more time, more power, more than the world was willing to give. I was a captain who thought he could rewrite fate itself. That I could bend the tide to my will, take from the sea and give nothing in return. I thought if I just wanted it badly enough, I could cheat death. Cheat destiny. The sea doesn’t bargain.
And it never forgets. So, it made me remember—every damned day since. "
I frowned. "The sea doesn’t kneel to anyone."
A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "No, it doesn’t. But I tried anyway. And I paid for it. We all did."
I leaned forward, pulse quickening. "What happened?"
Alaric’s gaze darkened, flicking to the window where the waves stretched endlessly into the night.
"There was a places, sacred, guarded by those who still remembered the old ways. We tore through its halls, stole from its depths, ignoring the warnings carved into stone. It was a place that should have been left untouched, a place we had no right to claim.
"Among the relics, we found a map—one that pointed us toward the Trench. The crew followed me willingly into the abyss, into waters no ship was meant to touch. I told them it was destiny. That we would return with more than gold or myth. That would make us legends.
"It was there, in the blackest depths of the ocean, that I made my greatest mistake—convinced I could take what I wanted from the sea without consequence. Convinced it would lead me to what I was searching for.
"And I was right. I got what I wanted. What I so desperately needed. Just not the way I imagined. I was looking for something—power, immortality, a way to cheat life and death. And for a time, it seemed like I had won."
I shivered, but not from the cold. "So, the sea cursed you? For your mistakes?"
His jaw flexed, working through something unspoken. Then, to my surprise, he chuckled—a dry, humorless sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
"Have a little patience," he said, voice low. "I’m getting to that part."
"No, the sea did not curse me. She did. The Trench was not empty.
She was waiting there. Her fury was a living thing, roiling through the depths like a storm waiting to break.
She saw my greed, my arrogance, and she did not look upon me with pity or patience.
She was wrathful. Betrayed. I had defiled her home, taken what was never meant to be claimed, and for that, she made me suffer.
She answered—not with death, but with a curse. "
"Eternal life," he said. "Her gift, but also her punishment. A curse woven into the tide itself. At a cost. The sea gave us time, but it took everything else—our humanity. Leaving only hunger, the endless pull of the tide demanding more. We are bound to these waters, to this ship."
For a moment, I could only stare at him. Alaric—who had, up until now, seemed untouchable, insufferable, carved of arrogance and sarcasm—had just opened a door into a part of himself I hadn’t known existed. And now that I’d glimpsed it, I couldn’t unsee it.
What did it mean that the man I thought I should fear most… I suddenly wanted to understand.
His curse wasn’t just a punishment—it was a monument to choices he couldn’t undo. And in that, I saw a reflection of my own unraveling. Of what I might still lose.
My stomach twisted. "Who is she?"
Alaric stilled, just for a breath—but it was enough. His shoulders tensed, jaw clenching ever so slightly, the memory of her burning beneath his skin. He didn’t speak right away, and the silence that followed said more than words ever could.
Whatever came next, it wasn’t just history. It was a wound.
He met my gaze, and for the first time since I’d stepped aboard the Black Marrow, something broke in his eyes. Not anger. Not mockery. Something raw. Something almost human. A softness that had no place in a man who had walked so long with death at his side.
"Meris," he said, voice low. "The Sea Goddess."
The world tilted.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.
My fingers tightened around the glass until I feared it might shatter.
"Meris?" I echoed, like the word itself might stab a hole in reality.
Alaric’s expression darkened. “You know her?”
Yes. I knew her. Not as a myth. Not as a curse. But as the woman who raised me. Who sang me lullabies made of tide and moonlight. Who braided starlight into my hair and whispered that I was born of the sea.
I swallowed, a tremor in my chest.
"I know her," I whispered. “...by another name.”
His brows drew together.
The lanternlight caught on the rim of my tears. I felt like the sea was drowning me from within.
“Mother.”