Emrys didn’t sit. He remained by the window, hands clasped behind his back, watching the sea.
“And so, Miss Daphne,” he purred, “our adventure begins.”
I nodded and filled my plate with sandwiches. Whatever awaited me out there, I’d rather meet it with a full belly.
Emrys
When Gods Clash
My timing was perfect.
We would arrive in Paris two days before the Equinox, when the Surge at the ley line nexus would reach its peak. Its energy would be enough to reclaim what the little thief had stolen from me.
I watched her bite into a sandwich like someone who hadn’t eaten in days. She was too thin—fragile in that way mortals get when they’ve been deprived of food. Rage flared beneath my ribs. Had it been Vexley or that sadistic brother of hers who’d denied her food?
When all this was over, I’d pay them both a visit and teach them how to treat a lady.
But for now, I had time. All I had to do was get her to the Surge—alive.
I looked at the waves beyond the window. The undyne would come soon. I could sense her stirring. Part of me was intrigued. I’d always had a weakness for curses, especially the old blood-bound ones tangled with myth and ruin. And Daphne’s was shaping up to be a masterpiece.
But fascination gave way to something sharper. The unknown was after her, and something primal in me didn’t like it. I was ready to bare my teeth.
When I turned back to Daphne, I froze.
Her seat was empty. Her sandwich lay half-eaten on the floor. The ferry shuddered beneath us. Gulls shrieked. The other passengers murmured, restless.
I bolted from the cabin, cursing my carelessness. I never should have let her out of my sight—especially at sea.
Fog blanketed the deck in thick, white layers. Shapes drifted through the mist like ghosts.
“Daphne?” I called.
“She’s at the railing. Behind the bridge,” came Nibble’s voice from above. “It doesn’t look good, Emrys.”
“Then keep your eyes on the sky,” I muttered. “I’ll handle the water.”
The waves were rocking the deck beneath my feet when I found her.
“Daphne!” I called and stepped closer. My breath caught.
She stood on the wrong side of the railing, soaked, balancing on only an inch of slippery steel. One gust of wind and she’d be gone. The spray had soaked her hair, and the wind pulled on her dress like a rabid animal. Her knuckles were bloodless where she gripped the rail.
I reached her just in time to place my hand over hers.
“Daphne! What the hell are you doing?”
She turned slowly, strands of hair plastered to her cheeks. Her eyes grew distant. Haunted.
“She’s calling me. And she’s trying to get inside me. It hurts, Emrys,” she said. The wind instantly stole her words.
I frowned. For a moment, it was like watching Branwyn again.
No. This time, I was here. This time, I’d protect her.
I needed her alive.
“So, she came.”
