18
Raiden
Raiden’s fist met the iron cannon, and it flew off the edge of the ship, passing through Leto’s barrier.
Kordelia’s reaction had stunned him. That flash of panic in her eyes, followed by the shake consuming her body.
She’d been hurt too many times, and Raiden tucked his fists away to contain his rage before destroying more of Leto’s already wrecked ship.
He didn’t even know how to console her, to be the male he’d always been for her.
How could he, when she’d become a different person? Maybe Skylar had been right, maybe there was no redemption for Kordelia. She wasn’t a weapon or threat in Raiden’s eyes, but she’d lost her fight, succumbing to a shadow of herself.
No. Gods damn it. He couldn’t live with knowing she was in pain and suffering. As Leto’s bubble faded, the ship docking gently against the stone promenade, Raiden stormed to the main deck, following Kordelia’s winding path to the skildaj.
Aryn gently smiled at Kordelia, their shoulders lightly brushing as she leaned into him, her arms still wrapped around her slim torso.
Raiden’s jaw twitched at the sight. Her moonlight hair fanned around her shoulders and Raiden ached to touch it, to cup her cheeks that were far too hollow.
Leto’s crew cheered as the gangplank descended, and a chaotic stumble ensued as waves of pirates spilled into Mistros City, the citizens of Galen joyfully welcoming them all.
A dark cloak appeared around Kordelia, Aryn motioning her to cover her hair. Raiden wrestled with his frustration as she hid within the hood, obscuring her face from the crowd.
A momentary precaution. The citizens would recognise her instantly, would swarm to her, a protector returned. They knew nothing of the lives she’d taken, the hunter she’d become. And the Windwards weren’t ready to break their hearts.
Raiden’s siblings and Aryn guided Kordelia down, her eyes widening as she approached the heart of the port. Rows of market stalls had been erected for the end of summer, each awning a decorative shade of blue, white, and iridescent purple.
Raiden followed the group a few steps behind, his stare trained on Kordelia’s back, pretending she was the same person. But her swagger had vanished, her steps tentative and meek, and her thumbs gently rubbed her arms, as her head swivelled in every direction.
A grunt sounded by Raiden, and his stare flickered to Erick on a stretcher, carried by two pirates leading him to the castle’s infirmary up the hill behind the city.
A growl tore from his throat at the unconscious traitor.
Erick Cadell had ruined everything, he’d become an infection, a parasite in their paradise.
He’d torn apart Raiden’s family, taking a piece of his soul with him as he’d fled with Kordelia.
And she’d chosen to save his life.
He rolled his shoulders, an ache appearing between them as Erick’s body swerved through the crowds, disappearing through the market.
A swath of mercenaries interspersed the jovial crowd, welcoming their return, dressed head to toe in pale armour reminding Raiden of sunsets at the Aurora Gap.
Hues of orange, pink, and white coming together in an armour designed for battle.
Kordelia instantly stiffened, and instinct consumed Raiden to protect her, but Aryn stepped in, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
As Aerion led the group back through the winding city, following the pebbled path uphill to the castle Raiden had called home for years, the influx of guards increased.
Spilling from pine trees lining the steep hill.
A secret wave silently prowling behind Raiden’s hunched shoulders, their stares glued on Kordelia’s every movement, whilst he protected her back from behind.
Windspire Castle dazzled in the faint mid-afternoon sun, its orange-toned walls resembling the deepest of sunsets.
Warmth and relief filled Raiden the closer he neared his home.
Kordelia’s neck looked ready to snap in two as she surveyed the grounds, her devastating eyes widening so much they could’ve absorbed the sky whole.
Citrine walls met spiralling turrets dusted with sparkling flecks of moonstone embedded into the stone.
Sweeping panes of glass framed by dark iron flooded the castle with light, and bountiful gardens surrounded the grounds, lined by pale stone paths and towering apple trees.
The Mist settled across the hill, cooling the climate, but could never dull Windspire’s gleam.
“It’s beautiful,” Kordelia whispered, and Raiden nearly stumbled. It shocked him to witness her experiencing everything for the first time again. As if she hadn’t spent most of her life here . . . with him.
“Don’t worry, K, you’ll remember this old place in no time.” Aerion grinned over his shoulder as he pushed open the grand metal doors. Small chunks of moonstone glimmered in each bolt and ringed handles, charmed with deflection from enemies.
“K?” Raiden asked as they filed into the ballroom to the right, now the all-purpose room since the Mist. Erick’s unconscious body veered left and down the stairs towards their infirmary.
Kordelia hesitated, her mouth parting as she watched Erick disappear.
Aryn gently nudged her, gesturing to follow Aerion, whispering that Erick was safe.
“I thought a new nickname would be fun.” Aerion stood at the head of the opal table littered with his notes and reports on the war. On the far side of the large, tiled, pearlescent floor were multiple cots and blankets left over from when citizens slept in here last winter.
“It’s fine,” Kordelia spoke quickly, her voice thick. Her stare slid to the cots, her brow furrowing as she stood on the far side of the table away from Raiden. The space between them felt like miles stretching into eternity, and Raiden mentally probed their bond.
Kordelia’s gaze snapped to his in an instant, a glare replacing its curiosity, and he immediately retreated from the bond.
Fuck. Too soon.
“I wonder how much trouble we’ll be in,” Skylar hummed, her foot tapping on the tiles.
Raiden huffed. He couldn’t give a fuck right now about what Zephyr thought. The only thing he cared about stood so far from him and could barely look him in the eye. The ache in his back duplicated in his chest as Kordelia fidgeted, a nervous energy consuming her as her eyes continuously blinked.
“Trouble?” Kordelia asked, her hands tightening around her spindly arms.
“Trouble doesn’t even begin to cover it!”
Raiden’s gaze shuttered as Hector Read strode in, his pinstripe longcoat flapping behind his aged form. Leto stood to attention, his spine snapping straight as Hector stood at the opposite end of the table, surrounded by his most trusted pirates.
“Uh oh,” Mara called, fleeing from Leto’s shoulder to settle on the crystal chandeliers above. Cassidy followed shortly afterwards; her lasso looped around her curving hips.
“Ye directly disobeyed me,” Hector snapped, his beady stare sliding to Raiden. A faint whiff of grog tainted his breath and Raiden crossed his arms.
“We follow my father, and he’s not here right now,” Raiden retorted.
“We follow the code. As King of Pirates, I have every right to—”
A bitter laugh escaped Raiden. “King? Your king died long ago. You split the leadership between the lords.”
Cassidy pursed her lips as her red nails scraped the edge of her lasso. Her yellow shirt billowed around her breeches tucked into knee-high boots. “The code states the next in line takes the mantle. There must always be a king.”
“He’s hardly next in line.” Raiden bared his teeth at Hector. They’d had this conversation enough times to wake the dead.
Cassidy’s brown ringlets bounced as she approached the table. “In these circumstances, we did what we thought best. For the code.”
Hector’s stare narrowed on Kordelia stood between Aerion and Aryn, her eyes wide.
His face twisted, his weather-beaten skin scrunching until his wrinkles resembled trenches.
Combined with his thinning grey hair, rotting teeth, and threatening falchion sword at his side, he was a true pirate through and through.
“The pirate-killer should be locked up,” Hector switched to Devanian. “She murdered Cannon—a lord—in cold blood.”
“Aye, lock her up!” a pirate dressed in gaudy red agreed behind Hector.
“No, she’s here under our protection,” Aerion raised his hands. “We have granted her asylum. As an original resident of this castle, she deserves at least that.”
“No!” Hector slammed the table. “She has caused our destruction. She’s our enemy!”
“She was misled,” Aryn argued. “Kora didn’t know what she was doing.”
“We’ve seen what she can do,” Cassidy spoke calmly. “She wiped out the Skytor’s allies in the desert. She’s sunken more ships than we can count. James . . .” Cassidy choked. “James is dead because of her.”
Cassidy’s blue eyes brimmed with tears that she blinked away quickly. Raiden faltered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. They’d always kept their relationship quiet, focusing on their lordships, but anyone could tell Cassidy and James had possessed a love for the ages.
“Aye, I say we lock her up and throw away the key. Give her a taste of her own medicine. All those souls incarcerated to that deathly prison in the south. All the souls fallen to Davy Jones’ Locker. She’s a murderer!” Hector seethed, his face burning a matching shade of red to his attire.
“Enough!” Kordelia yelled in Devanian and the room fell silent.
All seven, plus the pirates lingering behind their lords, swivelled to face her. Leto glanced around the room, his brow furrowed. No one had translated for him, but Raiden was sure he’d gotten the gist of Hector’s rage from the way steam erupted from his ears.
“I know what I’ve done,” Kordelia sucked in a breath, her hands shaking as she addressed the room, speaking almost perfect Devanian.
Gods damn. “They stole who I was, and replaced it with a weapon of their own creation. I’m filled with darkness, an ichor has fused itself to my soul.
I cannot take back the devastation I’ve caused, but I can fight for the right side moving forward. ”
Hector’s lip curled. “How dare ye speak the language of gods? Ye do not deserve such honour.”
“Hector,” Cassidy nudged. “I think she’s true. The empire forbids the language.”
Raiden’s heart shattered at Kordelia’s speech. She thought she was tainted, her soul marred by Barron’s darkness. Could she not see redemption? Could she not see his desperation to save her?
“Kordelia—” Her glare shut Raiden’s mouth.
“Ye deserve darkness,” Hector sneered. “Ye deserve pain. Ye deserve the fates’ hand, and what they may deal ye. I should keelhaul ye.”
Raiden inhaled a sharp breath. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
“Rai!” Skylar warned, her stare flaring.
“As Pirate King,” Hector smugly smiled. “I order ye to stand down. Until Zephyr returns, I say what goes around here. The pirate-killer will be locked up, and ye will not interfere. Savvy?”
“I won’t let him,” Raiden pushed the thought out. Kordelia visibly shivered in return, her stare sliding towards the arched doors behind Hector.
“Let’s dial it down in here,” Aerion murmured. “My title supersedes yours Hector, don’t let the hot air get to your head. I’ve granted Kord—” he paused, “Kora, asylum. That is final.”
“Fine. If ye want to live with a filthy killer who reaps the souls who greet her with open arms. The souls of ye people . . .” Hector stepped back, dramatically gesturing to the ballroom. “By all means.”
The tears in Kordelia’s eyes overwhelming spilled, silently flowing down her cheeks. In an instant, she flung her spindly arms out as she sped for the doorway. The bond shook in Raiden’s mind, and panic consumed him at the thought of losing it.
“Killer on the loose!” Hector leapt back, reaching for his sword.
Raiden grappled his arms as Kordelia sped past, visibly sobbing.
His heart wrenched, violence dangerously brimming below his surface.
A current of wind rattled the windows, the twinkling of glass chandeliers smothering Hector’s squabbling.
“Kordelia!” Raiden charged past Hector as Cassidy unfurled her lasso, her calm demeanour counteracting Hector’s theatrics.
A trail of floating tears guided Raiden to the double-sided staircase, and he followed it up to the third floor, into the west wing. Shimmering tiny balls, a lifeline to his heart, led him down a wide hallway.
As he circled at the end, leading to a suite of rooms, he stopped dead outside a familiar door. The final tear floated, bobbing gently in front of a wooden door with years’ worth of carvings resembling the ocean etched into it, filled with melted moonstone and set with resin.
Kordelia had found her bedroom.