“I don’t care,” she spits. “Eos is dead, and you… you deserve so much worse.” The trident explodes once more, only this time, I don’t move fast enough. Brilliant light hits me in the chest. Right over my heart. It ruptures my skin, flaying through multiple layers with indescribable heat as blood spills down my belly. I clutch the wound. Try to staunch it with my fist.
There’s nothing I can say to help. To repair the missing pieces of her soul.
And she’s made a deal with a monster.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur as blood seeps through my fingers and trickles over my skin. “I’m really fucking sorry.”
Then, faster than she can expect it, I dart around her and dive through the entrance. Into the ocean.
Vesper roars. Water splashes behind me, but I don’t pay attention to it. My legs transform into a tail, my scales glittering as magic pools warmth in my veins. I don’t bury my power any longer. I unleash it with full force.
The sorcerer has already found me.
Liquid moonlight flows through me, connecting me to the very waters cascading over my head. I am not just a mermaid. I am every drop of water in every sea. I am the riptide. I am the salt and the silt. I am the ocean.
Breathing harshly through my gills, I reach out a hand and pull. The sea obeys instantly. It rushes toward me in an underwater tidal wave, propelling me forward on its back. Faster and faster. Farther and farther. The only way out is through Arion—through the skies. He’ll be bleeding now. He’ll have to find me.Won’t he?I grip the bond tight, following it desperately as I swim for my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ARION
Terror scorches through the cord. Blood curdles on my tongue.
She’s dying. Zephyra isdying.
Crimson seeps into the now-bubbling sea, until the whole of it tastes bitter, wrong, and I search the vicious current for the cord—for her. Silver flashes between underwater whitecap waves, and I follow it. My wings slice through the Sel. I do not think and I do not feel; I swim. I hunt.
Years of instinct and experience hone into a deadly weapon. Every muscle in my body tenses. Strong. Powerful. Magic crackles inside me—begging to be freed, begging to demolish the sea just as it did the isle until I find her,saveher—even as my heart hammers weakly. Each sluggish pulse sounds like her name:Zephyra. Zephyra.
Zephyra.
I whirl in the treacherous depths, searching for any sign of pink. Turquoise. A flash of iridescent scales or the pearl white of her shark-tooth smile. But there is nothing. Just bubbles. Waves. And our cord.
Where the fuck is she?
She’s bleeding. I’m bleeding. The Sel tastes like death, and she’s—she’s—
There.
An explosion of bubbles almost hides the long strands of pinkfrom my view. It’s moving.She’smoving. I tug on the cord, trying to guide her to safety, trying to guide her back to me, but her tail propels her forward.
She’s swimming away from me. Even though I’m here, and her chest is bleeding, and she’s terrified.
I wrap the silvered cord around my hand, leveraging both of us closer with each new tangle. I don’t understand what’s happening. All I know is Zephyra is here, and I need to save her. I don’t stop. Ican’tstop. I reel her in faster.
The bubbles burst as she nears, finally exposing her as I force her closer still. Her gaze clashes with mine, wild and distressed. “Letgoof me! Arion, you don’t understand—” The last ends on a guttural scream, her voice shattering from a sudden explosion of pain.
Not her pain.
Mypain.
Something heavy smashes into my left wing, nearly wrenching it out of my shoulder blade from the awkward angle of impact. My scapula tears, and it’s as if a gnarled claw has latched on to the bone. Ripping, tearing, shredding it. My wings shudder in palpable anguish. I swallow a roar. But Zephyra—she screams, buckles, and careens toward the bottom of the sea. Her back bows in torment.
“Warlock,” a strange, melodic voice hisses.
Ignoring the agony, forcing myself to grit my teeth and bear it, I twist to find the assailant. A silver-haired mermaid with ebony skin and murderous midnight eyes brandishes a bronze trident behind me. Her gaze locks on to my wings and narrows, then shifts to my legs. With a scowl, she reaffixes her grip on the weapon. “Human,” she announces—as if this is a revelation. As if this somehow changes things.
But I am more warlock than man.
