The forest answered him.
A shrill scream tore through the dark, close enough that I felt it in my bones. Branches exploded inward as the first beast lunged from the tree line, moving with impossible speed.
Alaric reacted instantly.
He lunged in front of me, blade flashing as steel met rotting flesh. Black blood sprayed across the leaves, hissing where it struck the dirt. Another beast followed—then another—red eyes blazing, jaws snapping as they circled.
Shouts rose from the docks. Lanterns flared brighter along the Black Marrow’s rigging as crew spilled onto the plank, weapons raised but bodies held tight to the ship’s edge. Gunfire cracked through the night. A harpoon flew past my shoulder and buried itself in one creature’s flank with a wet, shrieking impact.
The beasts hesitated.
Not fleeing—recalculating.
My mark burned hotter, pulsing erratically beneath my skin. Before I could stop myself, fear tipped into instinct. Power surged up my spine in a sudden, violent wave, the air tightening around me. I hadn’t meant to call it. I hadn’t meant to do anything at all. The power recoiled all at once, leaving a hollow ringing in my ears and a tremor in my hands I couldn’t stop.
Then I saw him.
A boy lay crumpled near the docks, small and still. One of the dock runners—barefoot, lingering close to the ships, trading news for crusts of bread. His satchel had split open beside him, dried fish and a handful of copper coins scattered across the wood.
He wasn’t moving.
I went still. “No,” I whispered. “No—”
I tried to step forward, but my legs gave out beneath me. Alaric caught me easily, lowering with me instead of hauling me back, one arm steady around my shoulders.
“I didn’t mean to,” I choked. “I didn’t see him. I was just trying to—”
“I know,” he said quietly, without hesitation.
A few dockhands glanced over. One of them nudged the boy’s shoulder with the toe of his boot. No urgency. No panic. Just a practiced check. When there was no response, he shrugged, already turning away.
“Too bad,” someone muttered.
Someone gathered the spilled coins. Another kicked the satchel aside to clear the walkway. The body was dragged a few feet out of the path and left there—unremarkable as broken cargo.
No one cried out. No one cursed. No one even looked at me. That was worse than anger. Worse than blame.
My stomach twisted violently as I stared, my mark burning dull and heavy beneath my skin—no longer bright with power. Just weight. A stain I couldn’t wash away.
Alaric’s grip tightened—not restraining. Anchoring. His thumb brushed slow, grounding circles against my shoulder as if he were steadying the rhythm beneath my skin.
“I killed him,” I whispered.
“Accidents hurt,” he said gently. “But they don’t make you cruel.”
The forest still whispered behind us—the beasts wounded, retreating—but Shadeau had already moved on. Lanterns swayed. Voices returned to their low murmur. Life closed over the moment.
Only I was still standing in it.
When my breathing started to break apart—too fast, too thin—Alaric shifted carefully and lifted me into his arms without a word. I didn’t protest. I curled into him like I needed the solidity of his body just to stay upright.
“Come on. I’ve got you,” he said quietly.
The crew obeyed, faces grim but unsurprised.
As he carried me toward the Black Marrow, I twisted slightly in his arms, staring over his shoulder until the boy’s bodydisappeared into the shadows—unmourned, unnamed, already forgotten by everyone but me.
I closed my eyes, but the image stayed with me anyway. What frightened me wasn’t just what I’d done—
