Chapter 23 #2
Ferocious seas belt the side of The Gilded Hart, and she groans in protest. The sound of the wood grinding against its restraints wounds my heart. When the ship aches, I ache with her. We’re not going to outrun this. We’ve no choice but to ride it out.
“We need to roll up the sails!” I roar to anyone who might hear. If we don’t get them up now, the storm will tear them apart. A few crew scatter to do as I bid, but the wind is relentless.
Movement to the side of the hull catches my eye. Elio catapults over the railing, shifting before my eyes. He rolls across the deck before scrambling to his feet and racing up the stairs.
For a heartbeat, I feel the tightness in my chest ease, like the storm unclenched its fist from around me. My grip on the wheel lightens, though I don’t let go. He’s quick in the water, always has been—but storms are bastards, and no amount of skill makes you safe from a hungry sea.
Elio reaches my side, chest heaving in and out. “Everything looks fine down there.”
The wind howls harder, tearing through the rigging until it screams like a beast in pain.
Rain lashes sideways, sharp as needles against my skin.
The waves are growing, monstrous now. Towering black walls that rise beneath us, lifting the ship sky-high before dropping hard enough to rattle my teeth.
“Make sure Otto is alright and then see if Tavi needs you,” I say to Elio hurriedly. He doesn’t question as he darts back down to the main deck.
I grip the wheel with all my strength, trying to pull the ship around my eyes still searching for Odi. Then I find her weaving her way through the raucous crew who scramble on the deck like fish out of water as they secure sails, and wooden kegs rolling across the surface.
Her gaze locks with mine, and my chest loosens like a taut rope finally giving slack. She makes her way up the stairs to my side and in her grip is her bola.
It dangles from her hand, cords swaying, weighted balls glinting in the flashing light—crude, but clever.
Not made to kill, not outright. No, it’s meant to tangle legs, drag a man to the ground, leave him helpless before the knife comes after.
Typical pirate trick—why waste steel when you can snare your prey alive?
I watch the way her fingers curl around it, steady, practiced. She knows how to use it. Of course she does. And I wonder—how many men has she dropped with that simple tangle of rope and weight?
Reid appears across the deck, looking at Odi with such malicious hate that it lights a fire of rage deep in my core. Odi simply glances at him then looks away as she passes by—unfazed.
The way Reid’s mouth forms a snarl sends my blood into a manic state. I don’t like the way he’s looking at her, but I certainly don’t have time to deal with it right now.
Odi huffs, as she reaches my side, then her attention turns to the skies above. I can feel the tension in her body like it’s my own. Without a word, she moves to the railing in front of us that looks over the main deck. “I don’t think this is a normal storm, Rune.”
“What do you mean?” I yell above the roar of the wind, though her words strengthen the suspicion that’s been growing in me as well.
She flings her gaze over her shoulder, locking on me with disbelief. “Does it look normal to you?”
It doesn’t. And it pulled us in faster than any storm I’d witnessed before.
Some instinctual foreboding curls low in my gut, warning of the danger approaching.
Not the gigantic clouds, or the unrelenting winds that tear through the ship as if it were on a personal mission to drown us all. Something else.
“So what are you suggesting?” I yell, unwilling to be the one that voices what I fear, in case the name summons our doom all on its own.
Odi lets go of the rail, slipping on her feet as she makes her way to me. She reaches my side, holding on to the post attached to the helm. “I think it’s—”
A deafening sound spears from the blanket of ink above us—high, sharp, splitting the night wide open. It tears straight into my skull, making me flinch against my will. Beside me, Odi clamps her hands over her ears, eyes darting skyward.
I follow her gaze.
They circle the storm in the near distance—shadows nearly as big as a man, wings cutting jagged through the lightning flashes.
Storm Rocs. Giant seabirds, but twisted, wrong.
Their feathers are slick and black against the storm, eyes gleaming white when the lightning catches them.
Each cry rakes the air raw, sharp enough to make my teeth ache.
These birds, plus a storm, can only mean one thing.
Odi’s pupils are so wide the brown is gone, replaced by a dark circle of fear as she shoves the bola into the belt around her hips. Her attention shoots to the angry water. “It’s a kraken.”
My heart stutters and I let the chill of her words rattle down my spine. “It’s definitely a kraken.”
From above, I hear someone call. “It’s the water!” says Nico in the crows nest. “There’s something in the water!”
I grip the ship's wheel tighter. I won’t let this happen—can’t. With one hand, I reach for Odi’s wrist, twirling her to face me. “Prepare for attack! I want a rope on everybody, no one goes overboard today!”
She nods and races to the railing, calling out to Elio and the crew below. At once they scramble, tying themselves to each other and to the masts. I can’t hear their mutters over the heavy thrum of the storm but I see them mouth the word kraken a few times, their eyes filling with fear.
This isn’t something we’re prepared for.
A groan sounds through the air, wracking my body with the reverberating sound. It’s the kind of sound I’d imagine would sound when the world decided to end, opening wide and swallowing us whole.
Odi whips around to face me again. “Rune—”
“What!?” My voice comes out harsher than I intend, but I’m not sure I can handle more bad news right now.
“There—” She points into the dark of the storm. The water churns under a second flock of storm rocs. “It’s the Sotor.”
The blood drains from my face so fast I feel the chill crawl over my skin. My fingers flex against the wheel, knuckles bone-white, but I keep my shoulders squared, jaw locked. I can’t let them see it . . . the crew—Odi. I can’t let them see the fear clawing at my throat like smoke choking my lungs.
Odi grips my forearm. “Rune, that means—”
“I know.”
The storm that surrounds us hasn’t given birth to a single kraken, but two. Male and female. The Sotor.
Every old tale I ever heard presses in at once. No sailor survives the Sotor. Together, they don’t just sink ships—they scour the sea clean.
My heart hammers so hard I think the others must hear it, yet outwardly I hold still, rigid, as though carved from the same wood beneath my boots. Inside, though—inside, I’m a boy again, listening to my mother whisper warnings about what waits in the deep.
I force my breath slowly. Don’t show it. Don’t let it break through. But gods help me—inside, I am absolutely petrified.
Letting go of the ship's wheel, I take Odi’s hand in mine. At first, she glances down then back at me, shock registering on her face. She doesn’t resist when I tug her towards the mizzen mast behind us.
She only protests when I push her back up against the mast. “Rune, we don’t have time for this,” she says, almost breathless, her face flushed pink.
I drop her hand only to cup her face in mine.
It’s so small between my palms, and even though the Krakens approach and the storm rages around us, all I see is her.
Water droplets cling to her dark, upturned lashes as the rain pelts her skin.
I try to shield her from as much of the tumultuous state around us as I can.
“What are you doing?” Her voice is hoarse with emotion.
My answer is low, rough. “What I want.”
Then I claim her mouth with mine.
She goes stiff, but only for a breath, then she melts, hands creeping up my rain-slicked shirt, curling around the back of my neck and dragging me closer.
I press harder, greedier, my arms cinching around her waist like if I hold her tight enough, I can fuse us into one body and cheat the fate clawing at our heels.
Her lips part for me, soft as velvet, and the taste of her collides with salt spray and stormwater on my tongue. It’s wild, desperate—a sanctuary in the eye of the tempest.
My heart sighs, loosens, like it’s found the missing piece it’s been raging for all these years. The kiss turns hungry. Possessive. The kind that carves itself into your soul and never lets you walk free of its shadow.
She rises on her toes, fingers tangling into my soaked hair, tugging me down like she’ll drown if she lets go. The moment her hand slips under my shirt, palm flattening against my chest, my mind blacks out.
I need this more than I need air.
She won’t die today. I’ll make sure of it.
My hands move over her waist, up her spine, keeping her pinned—while the other works quick, silent. Rope slides through my fingers and the iron rings beside us like second nature, wrapping once, twice around her middle. She doesn’t notice—too caught up in the kiss, too intent on me.
I deepen it, pressing harder, and with a quick yank of my arm the knot cinches tight. By the time she feels it, it’s done. Secure.
She gasps against my mouth, realising, her eyes flashing when I pull back just enough to meet them.
“You bastard,” she breathes as wet strands of hair cling to her freckle-dusted face. She’s tied firm. No chance of going over, for now at least.
I grip her chin between thumb and finger, my eyes lingering on her pink, swollen lips. “Just stay out of the way. . . that’s an order.”
As I back away, she bares her teeth at me .
. . feral, furious, every inch of her like the wrathful storm around us.
She’s mad, and I don’t blame her. If I were in her place, I’d hate me too.
But there’s no room for guilt, not now. I’ll ask forgiveness later, if later comes.
Right now, I can’t fight with one eye on the enemy and the other searching for her.
She fears the sea. And that will drown her faster than this storm ever would.