Page 14 of Slayer

I strip off my clothes, one piece at a time. The cold air kisses my skin. I collapse onto the small bed, burying myself in the warmth of the blankets and letting them cradle me like something human.

I lie there staring at the ceiling. The blood mark rests on my chest, my dagger on top of it, this vow, a promise I was forced to make.

My mind races. I didn’t think I loved Maddoc. He’s a thrill, a consistent comfort I never asked for but quickly grew used to. He never disappoints. But the thought of never hearing his voice again, never seeing that dumb grin he always wears when he knows he got under my skin, it makes me feel something I don’t want to feel. It forces me to realize that maybe there was so much more to it.

Nyra always gives me shit for refusing to admit how I feel, either to him or to her. She pushed for years, trying to get me to say it out loud. But growing up in the Slayer Academy teaches you to fear a confession like that. The moment I say those words to someone, it’ll feel like I’ve put a blood mark on them.

Loving me is a mistake, a curse I would never wish on anyone. Now Maddoc—my Maddoc—will pay the price for it.

He came every week without fail, even when it was dangerous. Knowing he should have stayed back. He still came to see me, even if only for a moment. Just so he could kiss me, feel me, be with me in any way. The dagger he brought me feels like a piece of me was carved out and melted into a blade.

I was never the best to him. He deserves the best. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to have his name inked on a blood mark. I should have treated him better. The best I did was give him crumbs of what I truly am and still, he saw me. I wish I could turn back the clock and figure out a way to stop this, but there are too many powerful hands at play here.

He’ll let me do it. He’ll let me kill him. I know he will because he knows I have no other choice. He’ll let me slide the blade through his heart and it’ll kill me just as much as it kills him.

A week it is, Nes… His voice echoes in my head, soft and close, like he’s still with me. I never thought I would stop hearing him promise a week. The clock is ticking now, each passing second pounding like a war drum.

If I don’t do this, if I hesitate even once, Silas will take him first. He’s watching me. I can feel it. Silas has never had a problem with taking over a job. He’d kill his own mother if the coin were heavy enough. That’s the kind of man he is, the kind who would make me choose.

He knew it was Maddoc’s name written and he knew exactly how to get inside my head. He called me weak for caring about anyone or anything, but the last thing I will ever be is weak.

And the king? Oh, he’ll pay a heavy price for this. He’s playing a dangerous game. He hasn’t even officially met me yet. Hearing about my name is one thing, but feeling my presence is another.

What unsettles me more is that Silas meets with the king. I’ve executed traitors for speaking with royals, under Silas’s orders. But now I wonder, were they truly traitors? Or did they just see too much? Know too much about him? I killed innocents to protect his name and to guard his secrets. That blood is forever on my hands, but now I see it for what it is.

I blink as I look up at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling, my body feeling the weight of this impossible situation. I curl into a fetal position. My eyes find the window, the moonlight shining in. I’ve always found comfort in the moonlight.

The king wanting to speak with me isn’t a test; it’s him striking first. This plot of his, to marry me off to one of his sons like I’m some crown to be passed down? I am no man’s possession, royal or otherwise. I’ll show up at his damned castle, leave him no place to run. He knows who I am, what I do, and what I rule over. He knows I was bred in shadows and salt, shaped by cursed bloodlines and dark magic. But he’d better be ready to die with his crown still warm on his brow, because there’s something he doesn’t know. He has no clue I can even make it to Coral Haven. There’s one thing I still hold secret.

My eyelids grow heavy at last, thoughts still racing miles across Magda, chasing every possible outcome, every regret. But eventually, sleep finds me in the quiet of this tiny house, the waves crashing against the shore, with everyone I care about alive. For now. Just one night knowing that everyone is safe is all I get.

I can sleep knowing Silas won’t come for me tonight. He’s too eager to see how this game will play out. Tomorrow, I’ll pay a visit to His dear old Majesty, the King.

Chapter seven

Drowning

The ocean stretches endlessly around me—too wide, too deep. I don’t know how the hell I got here. The water doesn’t weaken me. It does the opposite. My body feels powerful in the salt, capable, like the ocean should have been my home, but the curse bound me to land instead.

Something moves. A shadow slips through the water, circling me slowly and deliberately. Studying me. Biding its time. A siren—there’s no mistaking it. But something is wrong. Rot coils around it, spilling off its form like a serpent in its wake.

The water begins to bleed, black unfurling into the blue in thick, inky ribbons until there is no light left to chase. Panic slams into my chest. My muscles burn as I try to outswim the darkness, but it spreads quicker than I can move, swallowing my world whole.

Then, claws—too many to count—rake into my arms, my ribs, my sides, dragging me down into whatever hell crawled its way up from the deep. I thrash, blindly kicking and striking, my own claws slicing through water and flesh alike. I feel resistance. Pain. But it doesn’t matter. There're too many.

The sound hits next. A shriek, piercing, unholy, so high and so loud it vibrates through my skull. It feels like my ears are splitting, like something inside my head is tearing itself apart. I try to scream back, but no sound escapes me. No one hears anything under the water.

Hands seize my face, forcing my head up. Fingers dig into my jaw, my temples, my throat. I’m yanked eye-to-eye with it. Dark red, glowing eyes stare into me, burning like embers.

This is it. I try to scream again. Nothing. I’m alone. Completely, devastatingly alone. After twenty years of hunting me, they finally have me back. They can cage me now. Break me. Do whatever they want. No one will ever find me.

The eyes don’t blink. They see straight through me, peeling me open layer by layer. Every single part of my soul is screaming, tearing itself apart from the inside out…

My eyes snap open, pulling me out of the deep sleep, but the ocean doesn’t release me right away. For a heartbeat too long, I’m still drowning. Salt coats my tongue. Blood clings to the back of my throat. I suck in air like it’s being rationed, each breath scraping my lungs raw as if I’ve surfaced too fast. My fingers are already wrapped tight around the dagger Maddoc gave me, knuckles white and trembling as my vision swims in and out of focus. I’m kneeling on the bed, barely balanced. Everything is completely off.

The room tilts. Walls blur. Shadows stretch wrong. I gasp again, desperate, choking on the feeling that water still fills my chest. My body is soaked in a cold sweat so thick it feels like another skin, my heart hammering hard enough to bruise my ribs from the inside.

Then I look down. My sheets are wet. They’re soaked with dark patches that stain the fabric, sticky and metallic. Blood. Real blood. My stomach drops so violently I stumble from the bed, my knees giving out beneath me. I hit the floor with a dull thud, the impact barely registering over the roar in my ears.