Page 64 of Heir of Broken Souls

“I suppose that’s all I can ask for.”

He lifts his chin, pointing in Knox’s direction. “Go on, he’ll lose his head if I take up more of your time.”

I snort. “He’ll do just fine,” I say, but I turn away toward the ship bobbing in the ocean.

Knox wasn’t wrong. With the city evacuated, we had dozens of ships to choose from, and this one is nothing short of magnificent. A true beast of a ship, staggering one hundred and fifty feet long, its sails billowing in the early morning breeze. With five stories, eleven bedrooms, and a deck large enough to house Zephlyn, Aurora, and our entire court comfortably, it’s safe to say that when we laid eyes upon it at our dock, we all let out an appreciative whistle.

Besides the two-person rowboat that Easton and I acquired to escape, the one in which the mermaids tugged me into the Fae lands alone, I’ve never been out to sea, let alone on a ship. I may have smuggled hundreds of people to safety upon boats I acquired secretly behind the human king’s back during my time in the palace, but I never got on them.

Tearing my gaze away from the ship that has a roll of nerves tumbling through my veins, I keep telling myself that everything will be all right, that I’ll be safe. After all, I lie in Knox’s arms and sit atop Aurora at heights that should make me pass out from the sight of the sheer drop. This shouldn’t be too different.

But I’ve heard of wobbling sea legs and I’m not all too excited to experience it.

A low grumbling growl reaches my ears from atop the ship. Tipping my head back, I find golden eyes peering down at me, along with a pair of blue ones. Ones that used to be filled with life but now appear as dull as the lingering gray clouds above us.

I wonder how they feel to stand atop something so wobbly.

“Frightened?” Knox drawls as he stops beside me, gazing upon the griffins too.

“In more ways than one.”

Knox fixes me with his stare, the sapphire in his eyes matching the dark hue of the sea that beckons us. Shadows tangle with my golden wisps along our bridge, the bond between us tightening. The river below appears calm, but beneath its surface is a deadly current, ready to rip us away. It’s fitting for everything we feel right now.

Knox wraps his arms around me.What are you most afraid of?he whispers in my mind.

We’ve lost so much, Knox, and we’ve been fighting for so long. I’m terrified it will all be nothing.

I should be comforting him. I’m supposed to be, but there’s always been something about Knox’s voice, the calming deep timbre of it, that makes me spill my secrets.

For once, I can’t promise anything, he says gutturally.

I know, I say softly back, nestling further into his chest.

A light kiss brushes across the top of my head, and as his lips leave me, his mouth opens only to snap shut a moment later as the energy in the air changes. Pulling back into my physical body, I note that it’s a subtle shift, and yet it has everyone surrounding us freezing.

Elysia stops lugging suitcases, Harlow stops bickering with a silent Lenox, and Axel stops glaring at the ship. Even the griffins straighten, their hackles rising.

The sea brightens, the already light blue water turning as clear as the crystal around my neck. Around the bend of the jagged cliffs, water ripples, a slow, steady glide of a V that I know all too well.

The pod has arrived.

While the mermaids are callous, wicked, and cruel to those on land, they must be something far greater to the ocean. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed the water was welcoming a queen.

Before the bobbing ship rises Naia and her pod, all seven in their unique color and glory. Not one was left behind.

Naia, for once being cordial, dips her head. “Knox, Delilah…your people.”

Returning the same gesture out of respect, Knox and I lower our heads. Noting the way Amelia’s gaze narrows on Axel behind us.

Naia’s red eyes slide to the large ship beside her, without a care or concern for something so large swaying precariously close to her tail. “Have you chosen to bring aboard sailors?” Naia asks.

“No, my court and I are capable of sailing it ourselves.”

Capable or stubborn, only Knox and I know the true answer.

“Good,” she says, her voice as cold as ever. So much so that I’m surprised the water doesn’t ice over.

“The less who know, the better,” Amelia adds.