Chapter 39
YOUR MERCY WILL BE THE DEATH OF YOU
RUNE
She did it. Odi half-shifted into her deer form, and she’s magnificent.
She’s bare from the waist up, but her breasts and chest are covered in golden fur with white spots. My breath had caught at the fire in her eyes, the way she moved with such elegant speed and precision.
With her shiny black nose, velvet skinned ears. I’m in awe. There is no version of this woman that I’m not obsessed with, and when we are done here I plan on showing her just how attentive I can be.
I just have one thing to finish first. I narrow my focus, until there’s nothing and no one but the male in front of me. Grey eyes, haunting and empty. A pale jagged scar running from his right eye to the middle of his cheek. His grin wicked, like he made a deal with death and plans to fulfill it.
The chaos around me slows. I’ve been waiting to take down Ivor for three years.
Putting all my pent up anger, and fury into finding him and dealing the deadly blow that he deserves.
For years he’s evaded the navy, taken lives without thought, poisoned my ocean with his greed and bloodlust. He mutilated Otto, stole peace from my crew—yet as I stand in front of him, blade in hand, I see the father of the woman I have fallen for.
Viper or no, he’s all the family she has left.
Can I end him?
My chest heaves, dragging in air as my blade slices through the space between us.
The sound of sword against sword rings out, the chaos around me becoming a whirlwind of madness once again.
Through it all, my gaze finds Odi across the sand.
She’s tearing through men like waves in a storm crashing over rock, one after another, unstoppable as she races to protect Otto.
To balance the scales of her father’s existence.
I set my jaw, chin tipped up slightly. She is nothing like him, and she never will be. There is not a single particle of doubt left in my body. Odelia Nisse Ivor isn't just a Viper, she’s a fierce, loyal, kind, beautiful woman.
She’s a weapon. And she’s mine.
Elio is at my side, moving like he can read my thoughts.
I duck, he strikes high. I drive forwards, he covers my back.
To one man, Ivor might seem unassailable, but none of us are alone, and together we wear Ivor down.
The man shuffles on his feet, swinging his blade through the air.
Fury is carved into every line of his face.
Grey eyes bloodshot, wild, the veins crawling red like a spider's web as he takes in the carnage of his crew around him.
For a moment, the bastard looks less like the beast legends claim him to be, and more like a man.
He bellows, a sound that rattles the air, and swings his ridiculously huge broadsword with the kind of strength that could split me in two. The blow jars through my arms as I block, teeth chattering, the impact shoving me backwards a step.
Elio darts in, fast as a striking barracuda, blade catching Ivor across the ribs just barely.
Ivor snarls, jumping backwards just out of reach, not even fazed by the thin trails of red seeping through his shirt. “Couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you, Captain? I thought I taught you your lesson. This time I’ll make sure I finish the job.”
I spit blood into the dirt from a blow to the lip I’d received earlier, raising my sword again. “I’m flattered you remember me.”
Elio and I circle the captain, eyes tracking every twitch, every shudder, every movement that could end us. A feral grin steals across the Viper’s lips, assessing us like a predator does just before it consumes its prey.
“The prince and the pirate. She’ll slaughter you in your sleep you know,” he growls.
His statement is meant to unnerve me, make me feel unsafe around his daughter. To drive a wedge between us, but it doesn’t.
The corner of my mouth picks up, and I offer Ivor a confident grin. “Then I will die a happy and satisfied man.”
Ivor’s eyes grow wide, his mouth turning into a sour snarl. Elio flashes me a grin, sharp and quick, and together we move again, blades hungry for the bastard's throat. Ivor swings first. His broadsword, a massive slab of steel that hisses through the air.
I twist out of the way just as it slices down, missing me by a sliver. I bring my bone blade back up just in time, swinging towards his chest but he’s too fast for a man of his size, twisting just out of reach.
Elio grunts, clutching at his upper arm.
Crimson stains the fabric of his shirt. I hiss under my breath, pushing forwards with my teeth bared.
Ivor charges, and my blade scrapes against his as we clash.
All around me is a sea of red. A bloody mess of carnage as crew members hit the sand left and right.
Killian is free, steel blade in hand as he slashes through bodies.
Eithne is a blur beneath him, skin shimmering like wet obsidian, hooves and kicks driving men back in a scatter of grunts and choking curses—one after another sent reeling like driftwood.
Odi, who has red stains across her side, is still on her feet, back to back with Tavi and her twin blades as they take down more crew who burst from the trees.
I feel the heat of rage crawl under my skin, a hot coal in my chest at the sight of her injury. This won’t be the end of us. Ivor will not win today. We’ve paid too much, bled too much, to let him take anymore than he already has.
My boots shuffle through the sand as I race for Ivor again.
Then dirt flies. A fistful right into my face.
It burns my eyes, blinds me, and before I can clear them, he barrels into me.
The air cracks out of my lungs as I hit the ground, his weight crushing me.
His fist slams into my jaw once, twice—pain sparks white behind my eyes.
Ivor brings his fist down for another hit, but I block it, trying to get a leg between us so I can kick him off.
“Elio!” I grunt, twisting, trying to free myself.
Steel whistles and Elio is there, blade carving across Ivor’s back. The bastard roars, rearing up just long enough for me to drive my knee into his gut and shove him off.
We scramble, Elio’s breathing ragged, my lip is split in a second spot and bleeding down my chin. Ivor rises like a storm, fury red in his eyes, sword already swinging again. He’s all brute force, but gods, the ocean scum is fast. Too fast.
A sharp snap whistles through the air. Otto’s sling. Ivor jerks back as a venom pod explodes against his shoulder. Acid eats through the fabric of his coat, hissing against his skin. He bellows, clawing at the wound as the venom chews into flesh.
It’s all the distraction I need as I run and leap, bringing the hilt of my blade down on the opposite shoulder with a solid thud. Ivor rages, spinning away from me, and into Elio who slams into his side, striking with his fists again and again, every blow buying me a heartbeat.
Blood coats my tongue, dripping down the back of my throat as I choke on my spit. This needs to end. I’ve lost too many already. I won’t allow the loss of those closest to me, but Ivor refuses to go down. He fights on, eyes wild, bloodshot, filled with fury. “You’re holding back.”
I squint, feet planted firmly on the sand. “I’m not going to kill you in front of her.”
Ivor glowers, his yellow teeth gritting before he spits blood onto the ground. “Your mercy will be the death of you.”
It’s true. It could be. But not by his hand.
“And the saviour for you,” I mutter, pointing my blade towards him.
Ivor begins to pace back and forth in short steps, eyes never leaving me. “Is she worth it? Chasing treasure, but losing your crew? Garreth told me everything. She’s still a thief and a killer—a bloodstain given shape. She won’t change . . . a tide never stops turning.”
I huff a laugh. “Sad thing is, you fathered her and still don’t know her.”
Ivor takes a step towards me, teeth barred and dripping blood. “She is born of my blood, boy,” he hisses.
The words fall flat—full of menace but empty.
His grin is a false victory that tastes like ground up bones.
I lift the blade until the steel glints in his face.
“She’s of your blood,” I say slowly, thinking again of the necklace I’d lost to the waves, the one that still clung tight to Odi for years, “and of her mother’s.
And her mother’s goodness drowns any of your cruelty. Odi will never be you.”
The world narrows as Ivor loses all control. He’s a mountain of muscle and fury, his massive blade cutting arcs through the air. Every swing drives me back, every clash rattles my arm to the bone.
Elio tries to approach from the right, but Ivor dodges him, spinning out of the way and charges for me again.
One of our men cries out, falling hard to the sand.
My head whips around—just for a breath. It’s all Ivor needs.
His sword comes screaming down, and Elio slams into me, shoving me clear.
The blade bites the ground where I’d been standing.
Pain blooms across my ribs as I scramble up.
His strike caught me just enough to leave a shallow line burning across my side.
Blood trails down my skin like wet ribbons, hot and sticky, but I’m alive.
Elio isn't so lucky. Ivor kicks out, brutal and fast, catching him square in the knee. I hear the impact before Elio cries out, dropping to the sand. The sun beats down on us, sweat beads on my brow as I dash to place myself between the sea scum and my first mate. “You’re a dirty fighter.”
“And you’re weak,” Ivor snarls.
I spit blood, blade ready as Elio manages to get on his feet again, favouring one side. Together we face Ivor, dancing with death. All three blades clash, a calamity of steel and bone. There is no room for finesse, no elegant footwork, just dirt under our boots and sweat in our eyes.
Ivor barrels forwards, jamming his shoulder into my arm.
The sudden impact sends my blade flying from my hand and into the sand.
With a roar, I spin and swing my fist around, connecting it to his jaw.
His head cracks to the side, but it doesn’t put him down, and we’re shoved into hand-to-hand combat.
He smashes his forehead into mine with a sickening crunch, stars burst behind my eyes, pain throbbing through my head, all the way into my teeth.
Elio cries out, scraping his blade across Ivor’s side, catching the captain off guard.
I take the opportunity to dart inside his reach despite my blurry vision.
With the jerk of my elbow, I jam it into Ivor’s jaw.
His teeth snap shut as he roars. For a moment he’s all fists and fury, but I block him, twisting and kicking out my foot to trip him as he lurches for me.
With quick reflexes I dash for my blade, reaching it, and turning to face Ivor.
At the same time Elio rolls behind him, slashing at the back of Ivor’s knees with his sword.
Ivor cries out, the cut deep enough to bring him crashing to his knees.
His broadsword flies from his hand, and I rush to kick it from his reach.
I flick my wrist out, chest heaving as the tip of my blade digs into his bare throat.
He snarls as I hold him there. Elio stands behind him, his blade pressed to the back of Ivor’s neck.
Grey eyes cower up at me. He’s trapped. The moment he tries to get up, I’ll take his head from his shoulders with one fell swoop and he knows it.
I push the blade harder, leaning forwards as a bead of blood spills down his throat. “If I’m weak, then what does that make you? Beaten, bleeding, and abandoned by the only soul who might have saved you, if you only took the time to love her.”