And I found it.
A storm rose in my chest—one I’d kept buried for years. My pulse hammered, an unwelcome reminder of the past clawing back. Breath came shallow, tasting of salt and something colder. The trench had never truly let me go.
My fingers curled around the railing, grip hard enough to splinter, anchoring myself to the present.
I turned to Nerina. “Yes.”
“We’re almost there,” I said. “Whatever you’re hiding—I hope it’s worth the headache.”
What was she after?
She hadn’t wandered into my world by accident. She didn’t cross forbidden water for scenery or to simply piss off her mother. The way she spoke about the Veil, the way she fought the sirens—she wasn’t only running.
No one crossed into unknown seas without a reason that cut deep. And whatever hers was, I had a feeling it would complicate everything.
I studied her in the dim lantern glow. Guarded expression. Exhaustion. Determination beneath it—stubborn, relentless.
She wasn’t simply looking for answers. She was demanding them.
And I wasn’t used to being questioned.
Was she an ally… or a threat I’d been foolish enough to pull aboard?
The power she wielded could destroy us as easily as it saved us. Power that large couldn’t be caged—not truly. And power like that never went unnoticed. I’d seen men—and monsters—chase sparks smaller than hers across oceans. They never asked what it cost to catch them.
And yet… a part of me hoped she wasn’t my enemy. If she could be trusted, she would be a powerful ally—one I’d rather have at my side than against me.
That same pull I felt when I first saw her still lingered, whispering that I’d made the right choice.
I learned long ago that fate was rarely kind—and hope was no kinder.
The last time I stood at the edge of an abyss believing I could claim something eternal—untouchable—control it. I drowned in it, instead. Swallowed whole by arrogance. By blind faith that power and time could be mastered.
I stood before Meris herself, thinking I could bargain with a goddess. Thinking I could twist fate into obedience. I was so sure I held the leash.
The sea doesn’t grant gifts without collecting its due.
I was too desperate to see what I was paying until it was too late. Hope undid me once.
Why would this time be any different?
11
Nerina
The Forgotten Trench
Morning air wrapped around me as I stood at the front of the ship, the salty wind brisk against my skin, stinging where it met the lingering cuts and bruises from battle. Cold coiled around my fingers, seeping through the damp fabric of my sleeves, sending a shiver down my spine. I was still adjusting to the weight of clothing—layers of fabric that clung to my skin, restricting in ways I wasn’t used to.
In the water, I had been unburdened, free to move with the currents, the ocean itself an extension of me. Here, on this ship, fabric felt like chains.
As I looked out over the sea, I realized—I didn’t miss it.
The sea had always dictated my place without ever asking what I wanted. Now, standing on the deck of this ship, the distance between myself and the waves felt wider than ever. And thatdistance didn’t feel like a loss. It changed how everything else felt.
Everything felt heavier, as though the weight of the sea had doubled, sinking into my bones. The trench didn’t just consume ships and souls—it devoured the light itself, leaving the world suspended in endless twilight. The sense of trespass clung to me, sudden and unshakable.
The sky, still stained with the last traces of night, stretched endlessly above, yet the world felt smaller—the horizon pressing in. Time warped in the trench, as if the sun were held just out of reach, dawn stretched thin into a dim, lingering half-light. The sun was little more than a pale smear behind the mist, its glow swallowed whole.
