Painful Truths
Chapter Thirty-One
SADIE
They don’t take me far.
The Coveborn cut through a narrow split in the rock. Then another, and another, until the water changes. It grows darker and heavier, tinged with something faintly metallic.
The taste clings to the back of my throat.
Is Kyros coming? What if he’s still drugged up? Will the other Mer come?
The Coveborn stop abruptly, right where the rock opens up into a low, jagged chamber lined with blackened coral. It doesn’t glow the way things in Tideborn do. There’s no soft algae or drifting plant life.
Everything here feels stripped and dead.
A faint, dull glow pulses somewhere deeper in the stone, too far to fully illuminate anything but strong enough to outline shapes in sharp, unnatural shadows. It’s unnerving.
I’m brought inside the chamber.
The man holding me finally releases my arm, but only to reposition himself between me and the narrow entrance behind us. The others spread out slightly, forming a loose half-circle.
I spin around, facing them.
I’d ask what they want with me, but I already know. I’m a hybrid…an abomination in their eyes. They want me dead.
One of the Coveborn drifts forward. His tail is a dull, mottled green, the scales scarred in several places. He has at least twenty years on the two other men in the room.
His eyes settle on me. Then he chirps.
Hybrid.
I don’t justify his accusation with a response.
Another series of chirps. She looks like her mother.
That captures my attention. I straighten up, my eyes narrowing and heart pounding.
“My mother?” I ask.
The man studies my face, his worn tail swaying softly beneath him. Whatever he sees seems to displease him, if his growing frown is anything to read into.
He clicks his tongue. She was Coveborn.
My heart slams against my ribcage with the speed of a hummingbird. I try my best to hide it.
“Was?” I clear my throat. “She’s not anymore?”
The man blinks. She bore a hybrid. She was punished.
They killed her.
I’ve spent my entire life imagining my mother, wondering what had happened to her and why she’d left. The answer is worse than every possibility I’ve imagined.
She didn’t leave.
She died.
We gave up on finding you, he continues. Imagine our surprise when markers of her scent appeared in our hunting fields. He tuts, his eyes raking down my frame. And now you bear markers of the Tideborn Oshea.
My ears ring.
I swallow.
Another man moves forward. He’s the one who struck Evara, and he openly stares at my legs as his dull, gray tail snaps against the water. He’s exceptionally ugly.
She’s Coveborn by blood, he says to the others. We should take her to the sacred coral.
The older man scoffs. There’s no time. Kyros comes for her. We must kill her now.
I draw in a shallow breath.
The ugly man shakes his head. Hybrid or not, she’s Coveborn.
The third man drifts forward. His tail is a midnight black, the scales reflecting an almost-blue sheen. I look him over, scanning his frame and the way the other men shift around him. They’re afraid of him.
He must be their leader. Their Oshea—or whatever the Coveborn call it.
His eyes are so dark, they appear black.
Still, I force myself to meet his gaze, my chin held high as he circles me, his every movement predatory.
He tuts. My sister loved trouble. Drawn to it like a tide to the moon.
The words take a second to register. Sister. This man is my uncle. He looks too young, but age gaps between siblings aren’t unheard of. I can’t help but laugh, even though the situation is the furthest from funny.
I finally find family, and he’s discussing my execution.
But Dion is right. He jerks his head toward the ugly Mer. She’s Coveborn by blood.
Kyros has claimed her, the older man argues. He will retaliate.
The leader—my uncle—shakes his head. She’s not Tideborn. Not officially. Kyros can’t retaliate without breaking the Pacific Alliance.
My hair clings to my face. I shove it out of the way.
But—
And when he breaks the alliance… my uncle continues. Tideborn will lose its position in the Pelagic Council.
God. Realization slams into my chest. They’re hoping Kyros retaliates. They want him to break the alliance.
Killing the hybrid is just an added bonus.
I drift backward, subtly shifting away as I eye the chamber walls. There are cracks in the coral, some large enough to fit through.
Three on my left.
One on my right.
The older man continues to argue, sharp, harsh chirps pouring from his throat as the others look on. They’re distracted.
I dart.