Kai
Chapter thirty-eight
Heartbeat
A fucking whirlpool erupts beside our ship, massive, snarling, violent. A vortex of black water spirals faster and wider, like the sea has unhinged its jaw. The fog thickens, turning to smoke.
And then I feel the sirens. Their presence darkens the horizon, and for the first time in my life, the sight of inky black waves brings something close to relief. They’ve come for blood. For once, they’re on our side. Or so I hope.
I don’t take my eyes off Mira for a single goddamn breath.
Even as my blade slices through kappas like paper, their bodies falling at my feet, their heads rolling across the deck like cursed dice, she’s right there beside me.
Her blade is slick and dripping with the dark blue blood of the kappas, the same as mine.
She slices them down like they aren't two feet taller than her.
Her hands are sure, her stance unshakable. This war is ours to win.
The sirens’ discordant lullabies thread through the air and tangle the kappas’ minds, drawing them off balance.
It’s a lullaby I haven't heard before. This is a song for the kappas and the kappas alone. None of my men are even fazed by it. It isn’t enough to end the battle, but it’s enough to make the monsters falter.
Their eyes glaze, their movements stutter, giving us seconds.
But that's all we need to cut them down.
Except Varn is still coming. He moves through the carnage, slicing through my crew without hesitation, eyes locked on Mira with unholy hunger.
His shape is more beast than man now, taller, thicker, covered in seaweed and slick with saltwater, but all I see is red.
The kind of red that only comes when the one thing you love most is threatened. And I will end him.
The rage races through my blood like lightning. He doesn’t get to touch her. He doesn’t even get to look at her. He wants war?
I am war.
I swing my blade, cutting down another kappa with a clean, brutal strike.
Bone cracks and blood sprays across the deck like blue ink spilled from the sea.
But then he appears. The one who always follows Varn’s lead is a towering shadow nearly as monstrous, a hybrid of man and shark.
His skin is rough and gray, like stone worn smooth by the tide, the menace in him oozing with every step.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he rumbles, voice low and cold as the deep.
“Then you know your life ends here,” I snap through gritted teeth.
He lunges, fast and wild, wielding jagged weapons crafted from sawfish and swordfish. His strikes are fast, but I move quicker, sidestepping with trained precision. Steel clashes against bone, sparks flying, and I drive my blade forward, slicing across his stomach.
The cut split him wide, his insides spilling like rotten cargo torn from a wreck. The sight churns my gut, but I don’t hesitate. Still, he grins.
A hideous, unholy grin, filled with rows teeth. “It doesn’t hurt, you know?” he rasps. “I’m already dead.” The way he says it, so calm and sure, sends a chill slicing down my spine.
The sirens’ song grows louder, their melodies warping the air around me, twisting through my mind. It’s not just noise, it’s a message. They're speaking to me, trying to send me a warning me.
Then my blood runs cold.
Mira.
Her heartbeat spikes, frantic, and terrified. She’s moving fast, but not toward me. No. She’s been cornered, I can tell. My chest tightens as the pieces slam into place. She was just beside me. How the hell did she get over there?
He took her.
While I was distracted by his monster of a second-in-command, Varn used the moment to pull her away, drawing her toward the quarterdeck, toward the sirens. But now she’s trapped. I curse under my breath, rage and panic flaring like wildfire in my veins. I have to get to her now.
Mira’s locked in battle with Varn, fighting with every ounce of fury in her. She’s holding her own, blades flashing, but she’s alone. I can’t look away, but I can’t move yet either. I still have a monster in front of me. If I don’t finish him, I’ll never reach her.
The sirens’ song crescendos to a scream, a warning. Something is coming. Something is wrong. I can’t lose her. Not now. Not when we’re this close. She has to make it to the fountain. We have to make it there, alive.
My head splits open like a lightning strike, pain radiating down my arm, causing my hand to seize up. The sirens' voices drill into my skull, a thousand serrated knives behind my eyes. But I don’t look away. I keep my gaze locked on the bastard pinning me down. I struggle to lift myself up.
He slams me against the deck with all his monstrous weight, bone-crushing and brutal. His face hovers inches from mine, shark-like teeth jagged and dripping with spit, a beast ready to rip me apart.
Deep in my chest, my magic stirs. It pulses through my veins, an ancient thrum, igniting my fingertips with fire. My wrists are pinned, but the energy crackles beneath my skin, building, swelling, demanding to be unleashed. I don’t need a spell. I don’t need a sacrifice. I just need anger.
I summon every ounce of fury inside me, every betrayal, every scream I never let out, and pour it into him. The shift in the air is instant. He freezes, eyes wide. He feels it, feels me.
The temperature spikes violently. My rage becomes heat and power. He grunts, confused and panicked, as the force under his hands begins to burn him alive. His grip falters and his skin blisters. Steam hisses between us. I push harder.
I make him feel every ache I’ve ever carried, every time I was left behind, every drop of blood spilled in my name. I flood him with the fire of my grief, my anger, my truth, of me needing to get to her. He twitches, muscles spasming under the weight of something he can’t fight.
His guttural scream tears through the air. My power erupts from my chest like a tidal wave of heat and light.
“You’re a fucking warlock,” he spits in disbelief and pain.
Then comes the crack, a violent, sickening snap that splits the air like lightning.
He convulses, his limbs jerking uncontrollably as the power I’ve unleashed tears through him.
His body can’t hold it. With one final shudder, he collapses in a smoking heap on the bloody deck.
The air is thick with the stench of scorched flesh and iron.
The storm howls around us, the clouds recoiling from what I’ve become.
I stand over him, chest heaving, breath ragged.
I behead him for good measure. My hands still glow faintly with the aftershock of the magic that had scorched him from the inside out.
I tasted what was buried deep inside me, and it was terrifying.
Addictive. My fury burned him alive. If this is just a fraction of what I’m to become, I’m ready to take it all now.
I grab my sword from the deck. My focus narrows to Mira.
Her heartbeat pounds in my ears like war drums, my compass in the chaos.
She’s holding her own, two cutlasses flashing, steel clashing in an X to block a strike.
But then, Varn kicks her legs out from under her.
She hits the deck hard, and before I can take another step, Varn’s hand connects with her face.
The crack echoes. She crumples. My heart stops.
He leans over her, muttering something I can’t hear. She doesn’t respond. Her heartbeat slows like she’s slipping under, leaving me.
I run. Jay appears out of nowhere, moving fast. His blade sinks into Varn’s back, a clean, brutal strike, but it does nothing. I knew it wouldn't. Varn is too strong. Only a beheading could temporarily take him down, but Jay knew that too. He knew, and still he went for it.
It’s the distraction I need to get to her.
Varn turns slowly, almost mockingly, and drives his sword straight through Jay’s stomach, swift and fast. Lifts him.
Holds him there, high, like a trophy. My body stops moving, but everything inside me breaks.
My lungs seize, the air ripped from me before I can even scream.
My oldest friend, my right hand. His blood runs down Varn’s sword, coating his arm like a badge of pride.
Jay’s eyes find mine, just for a second. Then they don’t. His body goes limp. And I can’t breathe.
I watch his body crumple, then fall, rolling down the steps like he was nothing, like he’s just another casualty of war.
He lands at my feet with a sickening thud.
The blood still pouring from him now stains every step I’ve ever climbed to meet him.
Steps we used to walk together, leading to the helm, his sanctuary on this ship.
I look down at him. His eyes are empty, his soul is gone, and his blood paints the path I have to take to get to her. I step over him, my heart a battlefield of agony and vengeance. Varn just made the biggest mistake of his life.
I lift my gaze to Varn. He turns and sees me.
The ship lurches violently beneath me, but I don’t stop.
I move faster, eyes locked on the quarterdeck.
The sky is a blackened void, the wind screaming.
The ship tilts further into the whirlpool’s pull, dragging us into a mouth that wants to swallow us whole.
The world is spinning. Everything is unraveling, but I don’t care.
The sirens fall silent. In the space they leave behind, the world goes still.
I climb, my heart thundering lungs burning. One more step. One more second. But when I reach the top, my world ends. I freeze. The breath is ripped from my lungs. The sound of the world, gone.
His blade is already through her chest. I freeze.
I can’t feel her heartbeat. The rhythm that’s lived inside me since the day we were tied, gone.
Our bond snaps. The thread that always tethered us together tears clean through, leaving behind only darkness.
Veyra’s voice echoes through my mind, cruel now in hindsight: “You protect her heart.” She knew. Gods, she knew.