“I had been lying there for only a few minutes. Felt like days.”
On a distant dune, several men approached wearing purple sashes around their waists. None were surprised by the scene below.
And suddenly, everything Thorne had been saying came together in Augustus’s mind. “You weren’t Gallagher crew. You were one of the villagers.”
Thorne rose and squinted in the direction of the sloped sand dune. “I was born just over that rise. I was married there—we were young, but when you meet the person you were meant to spend your life with, does age matter?”
Augustus locked down his biting response as Thorne strode toward the only empty upright board on the entire beach.
The Vorash flapped its wings and soared to the top of the board, where it settled. Its scythe clawstick-tick-ticked on the wood as it sat, its soulless, fathomless eyes scanning the dying fleet crew.
“Here,” Thorne said, stroking the front of the wood, “is where Cassia Rutiliana slit my wife’s throat.” The Vorash screamed, and Thorne’s gaze slid to where Mettius lay prone. “I meant to take your wife’s life here today, but in her absence, a son will have to do.”
A very pointed look fell on Augustus.
Mettius unfroze and reached for the nail holding him in place. The blood was too slick, and his grip was too weak.
But Augustus didn’tneedsaving. He would get loose, and then there was an array of weapons to choose from. Every man here wore a cutlass, knives, or both. A couple had strapped boarding axes to their backs. Some idiot left a harpoon leaning up against some driftwood nearby.
Hewould be fine.
However.He still had his father to consider. Regardless of Cassia’s advice, Mettius wasn’t losing his life here today. Not if Augustus could help it.
“First things first.” Thorne motioned to his men, who dispersed like rats. “A recreation of that day. I want you to understand what it was like to lie there, helpless, watching the people you knew and loved your entire life die.”
Mettius quivered from rage, and his words spat. “We saved your life?—”
“You saved no one!” Thorne shouted, his hair slipping onto his forehead with the loss of his control. He paused suddenly to inhale and straighten his jacket. He slicked his hair back as he said with a cold calm, “You murdered my entire family. I can’t let that go.”
Mettius’s head shook from side to side. “You joinedour fleet.Cassiatrustedyou.”
Indeed. He’d been her quartermaster, her confidant.
“Know thy enemy,” Thorne said simply. “I’m not the fool others were… I saw men fail time and time again to be rid of you. They acted without thought. No one had the patience to learn your weaknesses.”
He glanced at Augustus and cocked his head. “A woman, for example. Born a slave. Loved by a pirate. Trained by assassins—though not quite long enough. In the end, it hadn’t made a difference.”
Augustus laughed, a cold, dark sound.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Thorne said, and across the beach, his men planted themselves before several dying crewmembers. “Your father won’t find your death so entertaining.”
“No, you misunderstand,” Augustus said.
Thorne kicked a single brow toward his hairline.
“You spent all these years planning every detail,” Augustus began, standing as straight as he could, considering the men holding him to each side. “But Selene… You couldn’t be more wrong about her. And we both know she’s alive.”
Thorne’s expression twitched. A single blink.
His silence cracked like a cannon shot.
“She may not be the best assassin,” Augustus began with a smirk, “but she’s saved my ass a time or two. She’s whip-smart. Intensely fearless. Damn good navigator, too. Reads a map as if she were born to. And whenshe loves something—orsomeone—there’s nothing she’ll let stand in her way.”
Thorne shifted weight to his other foot, then a smile crept across his face. “Where is she now?” He glanced around. “Nearby? Just howfastis she?”
Dread pooled in his stomach.
“Fast enough to stop this?” Thorne faced the beach. “Begin!”
