Rust slashed the tether.
We were free.
For about three seconds.
The captain appeared at the stern rail, screaming in his native tongue. Four fishmen flanked him, one of whom drew back a harpoon.
Dad raised his rifle and fired. The harpoon fishman spun and dropped. Rust’s rifle barked twice more, and the remaining fishmen ducked behind cover.
“Row!” the alpha ordered.
Mack and I seized the oars and pulled. The dinghy lurched forward, cutting through choppy water. My shoulders burned, my hands were slippery with blood and sea spray, but that was one order I was determined to follow.
The sea heaved, pushing us away from the galleon.
Oannes erupted from the deep, water cascading from scales the color of burnt sunset. He hissed, then released a low-pitched, cat-like growl that made my shorthairs stand on end.
The fishmen wisely forgot about us and turned to face the new threat, voices breaking as they screamed at the creature who used to be their father.
The serpent struck the ship broadside. Timbers shrieked. The mainmast cracked, tilting at an angle that promised a slow collapse as fire spread from the foremast. The captain’s screams rose above the chaos, desperate and furious.
Above it all, Anunit blazed. She dove at the fishmen in strafing runs, herding them away from the rail and their harpoons.
Between the sprite, the serpent, and the treachery of the sons, the Gibil Anzû became a fiery hell inthe distance.
Mack and I rowed in silence until our arms gave out. Then Dad and Rust took over, half rowing, half drifting as the current carried us toward the island.
There was a ship docked at the pier, but we headed the opposite direction, rowing around a rocky headland to a narrow cove sheltered by overhanging limestone. The beach was white sand, backed by vegetation so strange it looked like it belonged on another planet. Loud, colorful plants and bulbous-trunked trees with sparse, upturned branches dotted the cliffsides like something out of a fever dream.
The dinghy scraped against sand. I sat there for a moment, too drained and stunned to move.
We’d made it.
Mack climbed out first and secured the boat. Rust followed, immediately scanning the tree line, rifle ready. I nearly tumbled out of the dinghy because my legs had forgotten how to function. The alpha stepped onto the beach last, boots sinking into the sand.
Dad sheathed his sword and turned to face me with an expression that could have frozen the ocean behind us. Sweat crept down my spine, despite the morning breeze.
I planted my feet and braced for whatever was coming, because I’d earned it.
Instead, my father did something that nearly buckled my knees.
He laughed.
If you could call it that. A single huff of a chuckle, the barest tremor at the corner of his mouth, had I blinked, I would have missed it. But I saw it, and so did Rust. His eyebrows climbed high enough to disappear into his hairline.
Then it was over, and the alpha was back.
“You’re reckless,” he said. “Insubordinate. You act without thinking, and one day it’s going to get you killed.” He closed thedistance between us, and I steeled myself for my punishment, whatever it might be.
His hand landed on my shoulder, but it wasn’t his usual alpha’s grip that pinned a person in place, demanding submission. This was lighter. Almost human.
Almost fatherly.
“Last night, your recklessness saved this team. I won’t forget that.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they finally did, my eyes burned. I blinked hard, refusing to let a single tear fall, knowing that would only ruin the moment. “Thank you, Alpha.”
His hand tightened once before falling away. “Don’t thank me. Thank whatever crazy-ass instinct told you to climb out that porthole instead of following orders like a good soldier.”
