One last, final nod. Right as the floor gives way and she drops like a sack of bricks. There is no more time for speculation, for guessesand hypotheses and hope. I need to act.Now.Lashing out with my magic, I cut through her rope, and she hits the ground beneath the platform with a thud and a harsh breath of relief.
Thank the gods.
The king’s brows snap together as he peers through the hole in the marble. “What is the meaning of this?” He picks up the rope, examining the frayed end, then glances between the warlocks who stand before him. He isn’t smiling any longer. His expression is the ugliest I’ve ever seen it. “Explain yourselves!” His face reddens, and his blond locks spill in disarray around his face as he shouts, “I said, kill that mermaid!Kill her!”
I move. Even if it damns me, even if the last action I take on this earth brands me a traitor for eternity, I have totry. A wave of thunder—of sheer sonicforce—explodes from my hands and blasts through the crowd, the guards, the warlocks, and the king. It knocks each and every one of them on their asses with an ear-shatteringboom. The mermaid pokes her head up through the hole as my wings begin to undulate, already straining toward her. Her nails curl around the marble, and a feeble hiss slithers from her throat.
“Get me the fuck out of here, warlock.”
Quick as lightning, I scoop her up in my arms and fly her away from the crowd. Toward the docks. Toward Abysses.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ZEPHYRA
Men are stupid—especially men with wings.
After several horrifying seconds flying in his powerful arms, the warlock—Arion Stone—finally sets me on my feet, and it takes every ounce of restraint in my still-trembling bones not to draw back and slap him the way his king slapped me.
If I free you, will you lead me to it?
First of all, he is the prick who locked my unconscious ass in prison to begin with. It’s his fault we’re even here, creeping toward the edge of the docks, checking over our shoulders for the guards who are minutes away from hunting us down. Screw a trial or another trip to the gallows. They’ll murder us on sight.
Second of all, Abysses isn’treal.
Well, it was five hundred years ago, before Mortem reduced it to cinder and ash. There’s no fucking way we can find the ruins now.No one—man or merrow—has ever found them. And even if Icoulddo it, I wouldn’t help Arion Stone if he fell to his knees, kissed my feet, and called megoddess.
They almost killed me. I almost justdied. After everything I’ve survived—a greedy king and his foul puppet almost just stole my fucking life.
“Hurry up,” Arion says in that cold, controlled voice, and thebastard actually grips my elbow as if to tow me along faster. I’m done with sick and sadistic men handling me.Controllingme.
Emotions well in my chest. Anger, humiliation, terror, andgrief, so much fucking grief. They explode out of me with a primal shriek. I rear back and throw a hard punch into Arion’s chest regardless of the consequences. He glances down at me, his brow furrowed, dropping my elbow as his wings continue to undulate. His silver-gold gaze flashes lethal cruelty, but I don’t care.
I don’t fuckingcare.
Treacherous tears well in my eyes, but I can’t let them fall. I can’ttransform. Not in front of Arion Stone. Not in front of fucking Mortia and all the sick, sadistic men it harbors.
Stavros is… he’s dead. They killed him. I blink rapidly, forcing myself to keep it together for just a little longer, but breathing is difficult. Each breath jagged, sharp. Because Stavros—hebetrayedme, and—and they still killed him. I shake my head incredulously, stumbling after Arion as he stalks forward once more.They killed him they killed him they killed him.The memory of the blade splitting his enormous chest rears its ugly head, and I nearly double over as if they pierced mine instead.
I never meant for Stavros to die. I neverwantedStavros to die, yet they killed him for evenknowingme. They almost—
They almost killed me.
I suck in another breath, glancing at the shorewall to ground myself. It rises in the near distance, obsidian stone as black as night, and casts a shadow like a coffin over us. I shrink away from it, shuffling back into the sunlight as Arion glowers at me over his shoulder.
“If you’ve finished hyperventilating,” he says brusquely, “you can lead us to your den, or nest, or whatever shithole you call home. We need a place to regroup. The guards will be after us now, as well as the other warlocks—”
“Iknow.” Goddess, I’d love to smack him again. I’d love to take his head and smash it against the cobbled ground.
One look at him, however, and it’s clear I have no chance at overpowering him physically. Not magically either. Not with those wings. His power is too potent, and I’m too weak. I’ve been weakfor so long. My teeth grind at the admission, at the realization that this time, I’ve landed myself in deep shit. Probably even deeper than the gallows.
I glance back at the shorewall, at the port beside it, bustling with carriages and ships and Pegasi attached to gilded reins, then down at my hands. Still bound, like the rest of me. I’m a minnow in shark-infested waters.
“Cut me loose, birdman.”
Arion tilts his head, and his wings spread menacingly wide as if to strike me down.“Birdman?”His voice darkens. It betrays his rapidly thinning patience. “I saved your life, mermaid. You owe me.” And then, as if sensing something in my own voice, my expression, he takes a step closer. His eyes burn like molten lava. “Tell me the way to Abysses.”
“Cut me loose first.”
