For my crew, it wasn’t a legend. It was a memory.
The last time we sailed those depths, the curse was cast—not just on me, but on all of us. Bound toThe Black Marrow. Sealed to the sea. The Trench had taken our freedom and spat us back out changed.
They didn’t fear the unknown.
They feared returning to the place where everything was lost.
I stood at the prow, hands locked around the cold iron rail, staring into the storm-torn water. The artifact weighed heavy in my coat pocket, its presence constant. A burden. A promise.
Freedom.
Behind me, the crew murmured, voices rising and falling beneath the roar of wind and waves. Fear bled into frustration, restraint stretched thin. Some whispered. Others didn’t bother lowering their voices, irritation edging their words—questioning whether I was leading them toward fortune or damnation.
I caught fragments. “Cursed artifact.”
“Damnation waiting to happen.”
Mistrust spread faster than the storm. A harsh bark of laughter cut through it.
Kael.
He stood with his arms crossed tight over his chest, defiance etched into every line of him. Broad. Scarred. Unmovable.Moonlight caught the edges of his tattoos—maps of old sins and sea beasts winding across his arms and chest. His shirt hung open at the throat, torn and salt-stained, black fabric stretched over a frame shaped by hard labor and harder choices. The wind tangled through his beard and the braids threaded through his hair, each bound with bone, coin, and weathered cord. A pale scar split one brow, memory of a blade—or something worse.
He stared at the horizon, daring it to move first.
No softness. Only the weight of a man who’d outlasted mutinies, curses, and gods.
When he spoke, his voice scraped low and deliberate.
“If the Captain thinks he can cheat the ocean, he’ll drown us all for his arrogance.”
A hush followed—tight, coiled.
“Say that again, Kael,” I said, turning to face him. My voice stayed calm.
The crew froze, eyes snapping between us. Kael had always been defiant, but this wasn’t just fear. It was grief twisted into resentment. He’d lost too much to the sea. Now he was daring to lay that loss at my feet.
“I didn’t quite catch it over the sound of your cowardice.”
Kael’s face flushed. His dark eyes narrowed, lips curling back just enough to show the faint gleam of his fangs. Hisfists clenched, tension rolling off him. The space between us thickened—violence waiting to be invited.
I watched him carefully. He wanted a fight.
I stepped closer, boots creaking against the deck.
“Go on,” I said quietly. “Bare your teeth at me. I’ll pull them out one by one.”
My gaze locked on his until he broke first, muttering an apology under his breath.
The crew scattered. Whispers faded but didn’t vanish. They questioned me. Questioned my obsession.
Almost charming—how they thought their opinions mattered. On most ships, the crew chose their captain.
Not onThe Black Marrow.Shechose hers.
Once chosen, there was no undoing it. They knew better than to dream of mutiny. Rebelling against me would be rebelling against the ship itself.
I sometimes wondered what she’d seen in me. What shadow, what flaw, what darkness marked me as hers. Whether it was the same darkness she once recognized in my father.
