“And then?”
Dilys’s battle fangs descended, and he gave Commander Friis a cold, savage smile. “Then I teach them the price of laying hands on a Calbernan’sliana.”
After Friis left to check in on his men, Dilys folded his arms over the ship’s railing and stared grimly out at the vast ocean.
If thekrilloswho’d stolen Gabriella and her sisters were minions of the Shark—and he was almost certain they were—then it was Dilys who’d brought that danger to the Seasons’ door. Dilys who’d made Gabriella, Autumn, and Spring the targets of his enemy.
Even if the Shark wasn’t behind the abduction, Dilys should have known that his much-celebrated bride-finding trip to the Æsir Isles would have drawn the attention of his enemies. Uncle Calivan was right. He should have brought extra ships and warriors who had not yet earned theirulumi-liato provide security. He should have summoned an entire fleet the first moment he’d heard Gabriella’s Siren’s call. He should have gone to Wynter Atrialan, told him of the power Summer possessed, warned him that it would make her a target.
Most of all, he should never have left her side. Not for an instant. Not until she was his, and he was hers, and she had the whole of Calberna dedicated to ensuring her safety, her protection, and her happiness.
What was wrong with him? He was supposed to be a prince of Calberna, the spear that protected the ones he loved. And yet, when it was most important, when the ones he loved most were in danger, he somehow always seemed to come up short. His father, Nyamialine, Fyerin: all dead. His mother was Fading, and Dilys was helpless to stop it. Now, the woman he loved and her precious sisters had been taken...
If he couldn’t stop that... if he couldn’t save them...
His claws dug into the wooden ship’s rail.
To the sky, on the air that somewhere Gabriella was breathing too, he whispered a solemn vow, “I am coming,moa kiri.No matter where they take you, no matter what happens, I will find you. Be strong,moa halea,and do whatever you must to stay alive.”
To the sea he sent a prayer, “Numahao, guide me. Grant me speed and strength to find and free her. And, please, I beg you, watch over her until I do. Keep her safe from harm.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Balat told the Shark. “She’s yours to enjoy until then. Don’t leave any marks like you did on the other two, though. There won’t be time to repair damages.”
“No marks,” the Shark agreed.
“And I expect her to befully intactwhen I return. I promised to deliver a priceless royal virgin, not some randy pirate’s leftovers.”
The three collared slaves picked up their equipment and followed Balat out of the cabin, leaving Summer alone with the rogue Calbernan. The Shark crossed the room to sit on the bed beside her.
“Can you believe in this day and age, there are still so many men in the world who object to treading a path already cleared by others?” the Shark asked in a conversational tone. “As if a woman’s greatest value lies with an insignificant bit of flesh. And they pay such exorbitant prices for the opportunity to be the first.” He reached out and gently cupped her breast, ignoring her flinch as he circled the aureola with a featherlight touch. “It’s good for my purse, of course, but does so interfere with my fun.”
With shocking abruptness, he went from gently tracing her nipple to pinched it so hard she couldn’t stop a pained cry. A cold, cruel smile curved his lips. “Not all my fun, of course.” Holding her gaze, he leaned down and dragged his tongue over each of her breasts, laughing at her outraged gasp that ended as a snarl of vengeful fury.
Gabriella reached for her deadliest power, intending—for the first time in her life—to deliberately Shout a man to pieces, but the expected flood of terrifying magic never came. That firestorm of power that had swirled within her all her life was still. Mur Balat hadn’t just eaten the magic she’d thrown at him. He’d somehow stifled her strongest and most devastating gift. What weak magic did rouse in answer to her call was drawn out of her the instant the Shark closed his mouth around her breast and suckled her in an obscene imitation of a lover’s caress.
Gabriella gave a broken, gasp of realization.
This vile Calbernan was a magic eater, like Balat.
And she was helpless against him.
She was bound to this bed, stripped of her clothes, her dignity, and her ability to defend herself. For the first time in her life, she was utterly vulnerable and completely defenseless. Tears welled in her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and turned away. She couldn’t stop the Shark from violating her, but she didn’t have to look at him while he did. Her horror only seemed to feed his sick enjoyment.
“You all do that,” he noted a moment later. “Close your eyes. As if not seeing will make something not happen. Your sister Autumn didn’t at first. She glared at me the whole time. Yes, just like that.” He chuckled and released one breast to give Summer’s cheek a pat when she snapped her eyes open and fixed him with an incinerating look. The other hand continued to squeeze and stroke in a foul mockery of a lover’s touch. “I think she would have burned me alive, if she could. I admired that about her. But even she closed her eyes in the end.”
The thought of him touching her sister, of breaking the haughty pride Autumn wore as her mask to keep everyone but family at bay, made Summer ill. She would gladly consign this despicable, gloating beast to the hottest fires of Hel—and send him there herself, if she could. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her rage, as that only fed more magic to him. Instead, she closed her eyes again and concentrated on blocking as much of her power as she could from him, trying desperately to shore up the fortress that surrounded the fiery energy at her core. In that regard, the lifetime she’d spent suppressing her powers served her in good stead. Her internal barriers were strong, and she had long ago learned how to separate her mind from emotional triggers.
She couldn’t keep everything from him, though. While Balat had ripped her magic out of her without laying a finger on her, the Shark drained it through physical contact. And he reveled in finding the most invasive, intimate, obscene ways to take it, biting, licking, and sucking at her flesh. Worse, with each lewd lave of his tongue and each drawing pull of his disgusting mouth, it felt as if he stole not only her magic but something else, something more vital. He hollowed her out, bit by bit, leaving her dazed and despairing.
Hours later, Summer lay shivering convulsively, her wrists and ankles still bound, her head turned to one side. Heavy sheafs of her dark, unbound hair lay across her face, hiding red-rimmed eyes and the streaky remnants of tears she hadn’t been able to stop herself from shedding. A broad, now-familiar hand stroked gently up one leg, and a fresh wave of convulsive shudders wracked her frame.
It had been hours since Mur Balat abandoned her to the Shark. Hours since Summer had braced herself for rape only to breathe a sigh of relief when Balat warned the Shark that he was not to damage her virginity. Hours in which the Shark had taught Gabriella just how naive that brief surge of relief had been.
Virgin, she still was, but there wasn’t a single inch of her body that had not be used and degraded in every other way imaginable.
Her defiance was gone. The Shark had drained that from her long ago. He’d drained her of tears, too. He’d tormented her so long, so relentlessly, that now all she could do was lie there, dull-eyed, and endure, praying for her ordeal to end.
And then, at last, the cabin door opened.
