I gritted my teeth, curse thrumming harder with every drag of their hooks. The sea begged for retribution. My hands ached to give it. Somehow this felt more personal. All I could imagine was Nerina in those nets—her blood spilling into the sea.
This was what I knew. Not patience. Not waiting. The moment before the strike—the silence before the sea split open in blood.
My hand brushed the hilt at my hip. I could see the gleam of hooks, the ropes coiled neat as a hangman’s knot. One of them leaned over the rail to spit into the sea—his face clear in the moonlight.
Close enough.
I dropped my hand. “Hooks!”
The silence shattered. Iron tore through the air, slamming into wood with a splintering crack. The Black Marrow lurched as her crew hauled tight, dragging us against the poachers’ flank. Shouts erupted from their deck—confusion, panic, then rage.
“Board!” I roared.
The first clash was thunder. My crew surged forward, steel meeting steel as boots thudded onto enemy planks. The air filled with the stench of oil and blood, the hiss of blades, the crunch of bone.
A man swung at me wild—I caught his wrist, twisted, and sent him screaming overboard into the dark.
The curse surged hot in my blood, faster than thought, faster than rage. Every swing of my blade felt inevitable, guided by the sea itself.
Beyond the chaos, Veyrion’s cutters slammed into the flank.
Shadows poured over the rails—his warriors moving like wraiths, boots hitting deck in near-unison. Axes flashed silver in the lantern light. Shields rang as they caught blades meant for the Marrow’screw, bodies colliding in a brutal rush of force and momentum.
The dragon ship thundered into the poachers’ center line, its carved prow tearing through a netted vessel with a shriek of splintering wood. The hull caved inward, timbers snapping like ribs. Men were thrown screaming into the sea, their cries cut short as the ship listed hard and began to fold.
Panic rippled through the poachers.
They scrambled over one another, shouting broken orders, fumbling for weapons slick with spray. Discipline unraveled—some tried to rally at the rail, others bolted for the rigging. Nets dragged loose across the deck, tangling boots and blades alike. Ropes snapped free from cleats and whipped through the air. Below deck, cages rattled violently as whatever they’d stolen thrashed against iron and wood.
“Cut their lines!” I snarled, carving through another man and shoving his body aside. “Drag them down!”
The Marrow’screw surged at my back. Knives flashed as hands hacked at knots and pulleys. One crewman was yanked off his feet when a net went taut—another grabbed his collar just in time, hauling him back as the line snapped free and plunged into the dark.
Garen barreled past me, shoulder-checking a poacher into the rail before driving his blade down through the man’s chest.
Nearby, Eira vaulted onto a winch housing, her axe cleaving through a tangled mess of rope in three savage strikes, teeth bared in a feral grin as the net tore loose.
One by one, the lines gave way.
Heavy nets slid screaming into the deep, dragging crates, cages, and men with them. The poachers’ own haul turned traitor—dead weight pulling their ship lower by the stern as the sea eagerly claimed it.
The clash was everywhere now. Steel rang against steel. Lanterns burst, fire hissing as it kissed saltwater. Smoke curled low, thick with brine and blood. I drove my blade through a poacher’s gut and ripped it free in a spray of red.
“Cut the lines!” I roared again, pointing toward the straining winches where ropes groaned under impossible weight. “Sink them with their own nets!”
Axes swung—
Until Veyrion’s voice cracked across the deck like thunder. “Hold the lines!” He cut a man down mid-step, movements precise and merciless, eyes locked on me across the chaos.
“Keep the haul alive!”
Confusion tore through the deck. My crew hesitated—hands frozen on blades, eyes darting between me and him. His warriors faltered too, momentum breaking as the order rippled outward, splintering the charge into fragments.
“Sink them!” I barked again, fury tearing my throat raw.
“Typical,” Veyrion snapped, kicking a man backward before splitting his skull clean down the middle. “Burn first, think later. It’s why you bury more men than you lead.”
The words lashed across me. I shoved another poacher off my blade and stalked toward him, fury fueling every step. “Is that why you abandoned me?”
