He growled, reaching for the short blade on his hip. Once it was free, he swung in my direction, hell-bent on inflicting harm. Rocking back onto my heels, I narrowly avoided its refined point, the breeze of his attack the only thing to caress my skin. As he angled it toward me once more, the sunlight glinted against its mocking design, revealing the unnatural yellow hue coating its deadly end.
Poison.
“You wish to dance with Elaros?” He spun his blade, securing it with an unwavering overhand hold as his near-white eyes pulsed with malice. “Fine by me.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, grounding myself with the iron tang that rolled forward. “Oh? You like to play dirty? Now you’re speaking my language, Ravelle.”
“Perhaps,” he crooned, his back foot slipping behind him. “Though I hope for your sake you have an herbalist on board. It would be a shame if the renowned and feared crew ofThe Bloodmarkedlost their captain to something as pathetically minimal as a scratch?—”
My foot collided with the center of his chest, halting his failed taunt. I watched as the uneven earth shifted beneath him, his weight sinking further than he could correct. Before he even realized he’d lost his balance, his back collided with the sand, robbing his lungs of oxygen and providing me with just enough time to act.
I turned, sheathing my sword in the same breath as I scoured the docks we’d ported at. Only a handful of yards away, the ebony ship I called home came into view, its shadowed sails of silk beckoning for my return. In the crow’s nest on the main mast, someone observed the situation I’d found myself in from afar and, without hesitation, extended their arm overhead to reveal a red flag.
A warning sign for departure. They’d finished restocking for our next voyage.
“Fucking Saph.”
I suppose leaving me beached on a shore she never would’ve permitted us to step foot on is one hell of a way to express her sexual jealousy and other pent-up frustrations.
I glanced over my shoulder; Malrik fumbled to get his bearings as he reached for his blade. His fingers curled around its hilt as his gaze met mine, his milky eyes glinting with malice. Driving his fist into the beachfront, he planted a knee beneath him, beginning to make his ascent.
Without wasting another second of observation, I pivoted, my boots sinking into the ground with little effort. Taking off in a full sprint, I ran toward the docks, watching as my deckhands unwound the rope from each cleat.
The landscape shifted from sand to cobblestone, my footsteps drumming against its uneven surface as I shimmied through the influx of creatures managing the arrival of the newest shipment. As they passed looks of distaste in my direction, I didn’t bother to apologize. I ducked beneath a crate that two of them were hauling. As I came to stand, I rounded another body, sending a basket of fruit and other goods spilling. Snatching an apple from the air before it could hit the ground, I dusted its skin against my shirt and pocketed it.
Tossing curses, claims, and wishes at me that I’d heard countless times, the island-folk circled in, creating a blockade I knew would hold Malrik off, even if it were just for a few extra seconds. With bodies closing in, I leveraged the lack of space and let go of my self-restraint, slipping my fingers into pockets, on the hunt for somethingvaluable. Thieving bags of coins, a pendant necklace, and a ring, I maneuvered through the crowd, taking pieces of people’s lives without hesitation.
It came naturally—taking what wasn’t mine for my betterment—and I did it free of guilt or regret.
“Stop him!” Malrik screamed, his voice bellowing from the tail end of those attempting to chase me down.
Fixated on the ship, I watched the gap between it and the dock grow, knowing that if I didn’t make it, they’d easily sail on without me. A manic chuckle tumbled from my lips as my gaze settled on a rope hanging from the top of one of the pillars. Picking up pace, I ran alongside my sanctuary, leaping and leveraging a tiered stack of crates near the very end of the port to my advantage. As I ascended its stair-like formation, I grabbed the coarse fibers and wrapped them around my palm, using one breath to secure my grasp before jumping.
It tightened like a noose, cutting off the circulation in my hand as I swung from the dock toward the ship I commanded. Knowing I only had one shot at execution, I reached forward for the mesh netting draped over the port beam and ripped myself forward. My shoulders cried out in protest, ligaments and muscles straining beneath the forced transition. Brushing the pain aside in only a way I knew how, I loosened my hold on the rope from the docks, allowing it to sail back and whip against the pillar with a snap.
I began my climb, burying my booted feet into each square opening as I pulled myself up. The adrenaline coursing through my veins led every movement as if I’d done this countless times before, and I would be lying if I claimed this was the first time Saph attempted to leave me high and dry on some random continent. With the gunwale coming into sight, my fingers coiled around its lip, and, at the same time, a searing agony shot up my side.
An untamed cry fell from my lips, and I turned to look down, spotting Malrik’s blade buried to the hilt in my flesh. Seething, my free hand grabbed the hilt, tearing it from its nestled position. The vibrant yellow coating its tip mocked me, and I lifted my chin to find the Leaderof Assassins standing in the crowd with a snide smirk coating his features.
“Safe travels, Vayne,” he chuckled, his tongue dancing across his bottom lip. “Because if you somehow make it through this alive, you’ll need the gods on your side the next time we meet.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the billowing fire that seemed to make up my blood vessels ignited. Every organ felt as if someone had taken a match to it, making it nearly impossible to focus on the simple task of breathing. Panting, my vision darkened as I struggled to climb over the lip of the ship and onto the deck.
Gods, I just want to lie down.
As if in answer to my unspoken request, a hand landed over mine, another reaching over and down to curl around my bicep. With a swift yank, I was pulled aboard, my body colliding with the rigid chest of one of the only people I knew I could count on.
Syoran.
“Fucking hell, Cas, we thought?—”
I collapsed, my knees and palms slamming into the sun-soaked wood. My breath hitched, a tremor rocking my frame as I curled in on myself and heaved. Crimson stained the deck, my life force coating the deck for what felt like the thousandth time, reminding me just how delicate human life was. It felt as if it were nothing but pure acid spilling from me, scorching my esophagus with a feeling far too similar to the lashings I’d become too accustomed to, tooacceptingof.
“Cas!” Syoran dropped to a knee beside me, his hands traversing my body, hunting for an injury.
Even the simplest touch set my nerves ablaze, the anguish amplifying to a near-unbearable level. Spots swept over my vision, every sound vanishing as the ground teetered beneath me. My shoulders rose alongside it, but my lungs failed to expand, the darkness encroaching far more rapidly than I’d hoped. It was like I was drowning, but on land, with no viable means of escape, and I was panicking.
Syoran’s voice provided me a grounding cord, something to hold onto as I battled to stay awake—to stayalive.“What in the fuck were you thinking?!”
