Page 24 of Slayer

My legs, deadened from hours of flight, find new strength. I tear my boots off and hurl them behind me. The blackened sand sprays as they land. I run, sand shifting under me, burning the soles of my feet. But I freeze at the edge. Silas left him here on purpose. Right where the water begins. My curse and coffin. If I step in, they’ll all know. Every creature, every shadow that hunts me will sense me in their waters.

Even so, Maddoc deserves so much more than to die alone. The wet sand is warm, almost kind. My heart feels like it has completely stopped. I stare at the water, inching closer, then pulling away. One touch and she’ll know where I am. They’ll take me under. I’ll never be seen or heard from again. The war would be lost, my destiny wouldn’t be fulfilled. But Maddoc, the low tide gently lapping over his body, needs me. Just as badly as I need him.

I wade into the tide, and the ocean welcomes me with the feeling of shackles slipping back into place. Chains I’d broken free of once, now tightening again. The water below me turns to shining gold and black all at once. Like it is trying to decide whether to be dark or light. The saltwater covering my body gives me energy, healing my body after the long flight.

His blood unfurls in the surf, ribbons of red curling through black and gold water like spilled ink. Black water can only mean one thing. Sirens. They are here, waiting, prowling beneath the surface.

I scan the darkened sea, searching for a flash of their fins, the gleam of their eyes, any sign of what lurks just beyond my sight, but there's nothing. Only the slow, patient breathing of the tide.

“Please,” I whisper into the ocean, my voice breaking. “Just give me this moment. As one of you… please. Let me have this.”

I don’t know who I’m praying to—sirens, the sea herself, whatever might be listening beneath the waves. I just need someone to hear me. I lower myself into the water, the cold biting as I sink to my knees in front of Maddoc.

He's heavier than I remember, dead weight. My arms shake as I drag him from the sea’s grasp, not from the strain, but from the fury, the grief, the despair. It all claws at my chest at once. The tide fights me, tugging at my legs, trying to claim him back. Salt coats my lips, stings my tongue.

But I will not let go of him.

His body is a wreckage of feet hacked away, fingers shattered or sliced clean off. His face is a map of ruin, gashes split across bruised skin, his skull battered enough that both eyes are swollen purple and black. His arms bear deep, deliberate slashes, left open to burn in the seawater. His black button-down clings to his shoulders in shreds, exposing the raw lashes on his back and stomach. They whipped him. They fucking whipped him. Bile climbs up my throat and tears burn my eyes.

The tide pulls at us both as I drag him onto me, cradling what is left. “Maddoc?” My voice cracks, trembling like I haven’t let it in years. “Can you hear me?”

He’s still breathing. Shallow, ragged, but there. My heart claws for hope even as my mind whispers the truth. There is no saving him. There is no going back.

His eyes flutter open, swollen, barely slits in the ruin of his face. But still, those dark chestnut depths catch the dying sun bleeding into the sea. They flicker weakly, like the last light of a candle, stubborn against the dark.

“Nes,” he rasps, voice raw and cracking. “You can’t… be in the sea.” My heart shatters. Every fucking piece of me splinters. Even now, especially now, his first thought is of protecting me. When I’m the reason this happened to him in the first place. When I’ve been nothing but cold to him in an already freezing world.

“Maddoc, please don’t worry about me.” The words rip out of me, jagged and desperate. Blood slips from a gash on his head. I force myself to memorize every cut, every break, every brutal wound carved into him. Each drop of blood is a tally of how many times I’ll strike those who did this. Silas will get double. That fucking royal scum, pretending to be someone he’s not.

Maddoc’s arm stirs, heavy with blood and seawater, trembling as though the tide itself is still trying to drag him under. He lifts it toward me, agonizingly slow. “Nes—”

“No,” I cut him off, frantic. “Don’t waste your strength. Please. I’m so sorry. This all happened because of me. It’s not real, it can’t be. We can save you.” Tears stream down my cheeks, salt mixing with salt, hope bleeding out of me in rivulets.

“It’s… okay.” The words are threadbare on his tongue. “You have to let me go.” His bloodstained hand finds my cheek, fingers trembling, caressing me with what little energy he has left. The faint scent of pine clings to him, wrapping me in the memory of what home felt like. The home that he was to me. I press my face into his palm, desperate, refusing to let go. His skin is cold. The ocean has already claimed him, pulling him piece by piece into its grave. But I won't let his body go out to sea for the sirens to take his soul and keep it like a prize. Or worse, for the kappas to remake him into one of them.

He starts coughing, thick blood spilling from his lips, each breath a battle. A single tear slips from his fading eyes. My heart stops. I’ve never faltered at death before, never flinched at blood, screams, or the silence after. But this is different. This is Maddoc. This horror is mine to carry. My blade, hands, and guilt, exactly as Silas intended.

“You were the only time I ever felt truly happy,” I breathe, my voice raw. I need him to know this. The tears keep falling, hot and relentless, cutting lines through the blood his fingers have traced onto my face. His blood.

“I don’t blame you, Nes,” he whispers, voice softer now, unraveling at the edges. “Remember that… okay?” Gods. He’s comforting me? Him, broken and bleeding out in my arms, whispering mercy when I deserved nothing but curses. Why? Why him? The most selfless person to ever breathe in this world, dying like this? It's not fair.

His lashes barely flutter, his hand twitching weakly against mine. “Can you… promise me something?”

“Anything,” I swear, grasping his blood-soaked face, my fingers trembling against his ruined skin.

“Kill them.” His chest heaves, breath rattles. “Make them pay for what they did to you.” His breath stutters, chest rattling. Silence presses heavily between us. Then, with the last threads of his voice, he rasps, “And never… ever let him have you. You’re so special, Nes.”

My heart breaks with a soundless snap. A quiet, feral thing stirs awake in its place. “I promise,” I breathe against his skin. “Every last one of them. You never deserved this. I’m sorry. Gods, I never should’ve left.”

His eyes struggle to stay open, lids fluttering, fighting to see me one last time. His arm slips from mine, falling into the sea with a weak splash. The ocean begs for him, tugs like she already knows he belongs to her now.

With the last strength left in his battered body, he whispers, “I love you, Nes.”

The words gut me. They’re foreign. Too big for a heart like mine. He’s said them before, and I’ve always left him unanswered. My lips part, desperate to finally give him what he deserves, but he stops me with the ghost of a smile. “Don’t… don’t say it if you’re not ready.”

But I am. Gods, I am. How can he still be so patient with me?

I press my forehead to his, salt and blood slick between us, my breath shuddering like I might split apart if I inhale too deeply. He’s draped over me, heavy and warm and already slipping away, his weight the only thing anchoring me to the world.