Page 190 of In Violent Waves

“Stop.”

He looked from her to the water and then back again.

“What is it?”

“They’re coming—for me.”

Abubble rose from the water on a giant wave that carried a dozen mermen to shore.

Drystan was at the center. A golden helm couldn’t hide his familiar sneer from her. Lyra felt her stomach sink, and a weight settled on her chest.

“Go back to the castle,” Wilder ordered. He patted his side for the sword that was usually there, but came up empty.

They were unarmed and outnumbered.

And it was already too late.

A dozen guards, tails splitting into powerful thighs and calves, were marching through the surf and towards them.

“Lyra—go.” When she did not move, he said again,“I command you to go.” Wilder’s voice thundered with the authoritative quality that only a crowned prince of the Wilds could instill.

“You do not command me,” Lyra hissed, her eyes scouring his face for any hint of the elf she had come to love.

Wilder stared back at her and lowered his chin only once.

The mermen circled them, and Wilder pulled Lyra close to his side.

Drystan stood in front of them. Bedecked in royal armor of glittering gold scales, carrying the trident that belonged to her father. Lyra hesitated at what that could mean.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my blushing bride,” Drystan addressed Lyra before turning his nastiness to Wilder. “You dare touch what is mine?”

“I belong to no one,” Lyra seethed and stepped in front of Wilder.

“Our engagement says otherwise.”

The guards flanking them shifted. Several weapons were pointed directly at Lyra and Wilder. Golden spears and broadswords were all held in their fists, ready and waiting for the order to kill them.

She didn’t recognize a single guard, and the emblem on their chests was not her father’s. An eel wrapped around a barracuda. It was the Ithicais house crest.

“Why are you here?”

Drystan looked from her to Wilder.

“Are you the crowned prince of the Wilds?”

Wilder ground his teeth, and Lyra could feel him stiffen behind her.

“The princess asked you a question,” was his only reply.

Drystan smirked. “A crown of briars on raven-black hair. You must be Wilder Vale.”

Wilder nodded only once, and Drystan smirked.

“I made a bargain with your father.” Lyra could feel her heart stop. “A bargain he did not uphold.”

“What bargain?” Lyra asked and took a step forward. Wilder wrapped his fingers around her wrist to keep her from taking another step away from him.

“He was to hold you captive until I could complete my plans. And then return you to the sea. But it seems Oberon had other plans in mind and kept you. I’ve come to claim what is mine.”