Veyrion’s smirk widened as he led me toward the gangplank, his voice pitched low enough for only me — and Alaric, just behind us — to hear. “Perfectly done, Neri.”
The last thing I saw before stepping onto the Covenant ship was Alaric, still straining against the men holding him back, his eyes burning with a mix of fury and something far more dangerous.
33
Alaric
The Black Marrow
There is no place on a pirate ship for a mermaid.
The words tasted like rust in my mouth—my own damn words, flung back at me. I’d meant them as a warning, a shield to keep her from the worst of this life. But standing there, watching her cross the deck toward him, they felt like a curse I’d carved into my own bones. My temper snapped into place with a precision that unsettled me.
Veyrion waited at the gangplank like a vulture, all smug patience and sharpened smiles. He didn’t have to drag her—she went willingly. The urge to stop her hit hard and immediate, a reflex so violent I had to lock my knees to keep from moving.
The crew was silent, the only sound was the groan of the Black Marrow beneath my boots—she too felt the shift, the loss. The men glanced between us, waiting for me to lash out, to do something reckless.
My hands curled into fists. I knew what Veyrion was doing—every movement calculated, every glance meant to gut me in front of my own crew. Once, he’d been a friend, a brother-in-arms. We’d stolen crowns from kings and wine from gods, swearing no one would ever come between us. And then greed had turned his loyalty fragile. I’d seen him walk away before, but never with something I couldn’t replace.
Her gaze met mine once. Just once. And in that heartbeat, I searched for the answer to a question I didn’t dare ask.
Veyrion had always known how to make surrender look like consent.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. Every instinct screamed to stop her, but my pride… my pride was already bleeding out in front of them all. Restraint felt heavier than it ever had.
And then she was gone.
I didn’t remember crossing the deck. One moment I was frozen, watching the distance swallow her, the next I was slamming the door to my quarters so hard the hinges shrieked.
Papers went first—maps, contracts, letters—all torn from my desk and flung into the air like startled gulls. They scattered across the floor, curling in the lanternlight, useless now.
The charts she’d traced her fingers over. The ink I’d smudged with wet hands while plotting our next course. Gone. All of it.
My chair hit the wall, splintering. A bottle followed, shattering against the far bulkhead in an explosion of glass and rum, the burn of it filling the air.
My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out the rest of the world. Hunger threaded through the fury—not loud, just present, like a second heartbeat I couldn’t ignore.
I tore open a drawer, snatched up the leather-bound journal I kept locked inside. Her name wasn’t in it—not once—but every entry was still about her. About how she moved through storms without fear. About the crescent mark on her skin that pulled at something deep in me I couldn’t name.
The pages shook in my hands. It took conscious effort to still them. My own handwriting blurred. And still, I couldn’t bring myself to rip them out.
Part of me wanted to drag her back, chain her to the helm if I had to. But the rest of me—the part that knew her—knew she would never forgive me for stealing her choice. And Saints help me, I couldn’t stand the idea of her hating me more than I feared losing her.
Because whatever she was—whatever force stitched her together from stars and seafoam—she was anything but fragile. She was a force of nature in bare feet and silver hair—brilliant and unstoppable.
And here I was, a cursed captain with nothing but a ship full of ghosts and demons I couldn’t wrangle, helpless to follow orprotect her. Her strength made me feel weaker, not because she was more, but because I couldn’t match it where it mattered.
My rage cooled to something sharper. Meaner.
Veyrion thought this was a victory. He thought I’d sit here and lick my wounds while he spirited her away to the frozen hell he calls home.
He’d forgotten who I am.
I realized I was destroying the wrong things.
Seeing him on my deck again… it was like the past had reached through time just to spit in my face.
I am the Black Marrow’s chosen. I have carved kingdoms from the bones of ships, slit throats in the dark for far less than what he’s taken from me. And if I have to bleed the sea dry to get her back, then I’ll do it with a smile.
