I saw it—Alaric at the abyss’s edge, staring into something ancient and endless.
“I met him there,” Meris said. “I stripped him of the shore. Tied him to the sea he tried to conquer.
"I gave him exactly what he was seeking.”
My pulse roared.
“I watched you,” Meris said.
My pulse skipped. “Watched me?”
“You and the pirate,” she clarified.
Her mouth curved—not a smile. Something sharper. Knowing. “I knew he wouldn’t harm you.” She inclined her head. “Alaric Dreyses is many things. Reckless. Cursed. Dangerous to anyone who threatens what he loves.”
Her focus flicked back to me.
“His curse binds him to the sea. To its children. He cannot raise his hand against them—not truly. Not without it tearing him apart.”
Cold prickled along my spine.
Her voice broke. “I didn’t see it at first. Not until I watched you together—the way he moved, the way the curse pulled him toward you.”
“The night of the Convergence,” Meris said, and now her voice wavered, “your power was wild. It flooded the sea—uncontained, touching everything. When I cast the curse, I believed I was anchoring him to the ocean alone.”
She finally looked up, regret shining in her eyes. “But the ocean was carrying you. Your magic was already woven through its tides. And so, the spell must have tangled.”
My mark flared.
“His chains did not bind only the sea,” Meris whispered. “They bound him to you.”
To me. Light ripped through the gardens in fractured bursts. Every memory slammed into me—the way he always stepped between me and danger, vows snarled like oaths carved into bone, the fire in his eyes when they locked onto mine. I wanted it to be choice. I wanted it to be him.
My voice splintered. “You’re telling me every time he reaches for me—every time he tries to protect me—it wasn’t his will.”
I swallowed hard. “It was your curse. My magic. He was compelled.”
Meris’s light dimmed. Grief etched lines into her face. “He is bound to guard, Nerina. To protect—even at the cost of himself. That is the fate I gave him. He would protect you,” Meris whispered, “Even from himself. Even from me.”
“Then tell me,” I whispered, shaking. “If the curse vanished tomorrow—if it never existed at all—would he still choose me?”
Fury and sorrow collided until I could barely breathe. My mark pulsed—violent, starlight bleeding through the water like lightning through ink.
Meris tilted her head slightly, as if weighing something old and familiar. “I believe,” she said softly, “that he already has.” Her eyes glistened. “That is why I did not call you back. Because for the first time… I knew you were not alone.” She didn’t look away.
Something shattered in me. My mark brightened—casting deep shadows across Meris’s face. She didn’t move. And that only made me angrier. I wanted to burn what was left of Thalassia down and make her watch. The scream ripped out of me before I could stop it—raw, primal, shaking the sea like a breaking wave. Light exploded from the crescent on my forehead—not pulses now, but blinding arcs. Ribbons of starlight tore cracks through the water. The ocean shuddered. The stones trembled. Creatures fled in silver streaks. It wasn’t controlled. It wasn’t elegant. It was everything I had swallowed for years erupting in one furious, radiant scream. The tide recoiled like a struck chord.
Shadows stirred above—one, two, more—and my heart lurched as my mark flared like a beacon in the dark. A voice rose—smooth, cold, and unmistakably pleased. “Ah,” Calder said. “There you are.” He drifted forward, robes whispering over the sand, Tidekeeper sigils gleaming like a mockery of starlight. His smile was thin, practiced—meant to look merciful. “Do you have any idea,” he continued mildly, “how much trouble you’ve caused?”
My stomach dropped. The arches filled with armored figures—Sentinels in a perfect semicircle, tridents angled inward. A cage. Closing.
“Nerina of Thalassia,” Calder intoned, voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber, “by authority of the Council and under the ancient law of the Tides, you stand accused of treason.”
The word rang.
“For the deliberate destruction of the Veil,” he went on, pacing slowly, “a sacred ward sustained for generations—shattered by your recklessness.”
Lies.
