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 andsatisfiedman.”
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.Eithneis 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 Ican 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, butgods, 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 willneverbe 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 burningacross 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.”
