From above, I hear someone call. “It’s the water!” says Nico in the crows nest. “There’s something in the water!”
I grip the ship's wheel tighter. I won’t let this happen—can’t. With one hand, I reach for Odi’s wrist, twirling her to face me. “Prepare for attack! I want a rope on everybody, no one goes overboard today!”
She nods and races to the railing, calling out to Elio and the crew below. At once they scramble, tying themselves to each other and to the masts. I can’t hear their mutters over the heavy thrum of the storm but I see them mouth the word kraken a few times, their eyes filling with fear.
This isn’t something we’re prepared for.
A groan sounds through the air, wracking my body with the reverberating sound. It’s the kind of sound I’d imagine would sound when the world decided to end, opening wide and swallowing us whole.
Odi whips around to face me again. “Rune—”
“What!?” My voice comes out harsher than I intend, but I’m not sure I can handle more bad news right now.
“There—” She points into the dark of the storm. The water churns undera secondflock of storm rocs. “It’s the Sotor.”
The blood drains from my face so fast I feel the chill crawl over my skin. My fingers flex against the wheel, knuckles bone-white, but I keep my shoulders squared, jaw locked. I can’t let them see it . . . the crew—Odi. I can’t let them see the fear clawing at my throat like smoke choking my lungs.
Odi grips my forearm. “Rune, that means—”
“I know.”
The storm that surrounds us hasn’t given birth to a single kraken, but two. Male and female. The Sotor.
Every old tale I ever heard presses in at once. No sailor survives the Sotor. Together, they don’t just sink ships—they scour the sea clean.
My heart hammers so hard I think the others must hear it, yet outwardly I hold still, rigid, as though carved from the same wood beneath my boots. Inside, though—inside, I’m a boy again, listening to my mother whisper warnings about what waits in the deep.
I force my breath slowly. Don’t show it. Don’t let it break through. Butgodshelp me—inside, I am absolutely petrified.
Letting go of the ship's wheel, I take Odi’s hand in mine. At first, she glances down then back at me, shock registering on her face. She doesn’t resist when I tug her towards the mizzen mast behind us.
She only protests when I push her back up against the mast. “Rune, we don’t have time for this,” she says, almost breathless, her face flushed pink.
I drop her hand only to cup her face in mine. It’s so small between my palms, and even though the Krakens approach and the storm rages around us, all I see is her.Water droplets cling to her dark, upturned lashes as the rain pelts her skin. I try to shield her from as much of the tumultuous state around us as I can.
“What are you doing?” Her voice is hoarse with emotion.
My answer is low, rough. “What I want.”
Then I claim her mouth with mine.
She goes stiff, but only for a breath, then she melts, hands creeping up my rain-slicked shirt, curling around the back of my neck and dragging me closer. I press harder, greedier, my arms cinching around her waist like if I hold her tight enough, I can fuse us into one body and cheat the fate clawing at our heels.
Her lips part for me, soft as velvet, and the taste of her collides with salt spray and stormwater on my tongue. It’s wild, desperate—a sanctuary in the eye of the tempest.
My heart sighs, loosens, like it’s found the missing piece it’s been raging for all these years. The kiss turns hungry. Possessive. The kind that carves itself into your soul and never lets you walk free of its shadow.
She rises on her toes, fingers tangling into my soaked hair, tugging me down like she’ll drown if she lets go. The moment her hand slips under my shirt, palm flattening against my chest, my mind blacks out.
I need this more than I need air.
She won’t die today. I’ll make sure of it.
My hands move over her waist, up her spine, keeping her pinned—while the other works quick, silent. Rope slides through my fingers and the iron rings beside us like secondnature, wrapping once, twice around her middle. She doesn’t notice—too caught up in the kiss, too intent on me.
I deepen it, pressing harder, and with a quick yank of my arm the knot cinches tight. By the time she feels it, it’s done. Secure.
She gasps against my mouth, realising, her eyes flashing when I pull back just enough to meet them.
