Page 68 of Slayer

I pass the library, the bakery, the crooked main row of little shops and crowded pubs, their windows glowing gold against the thinning fog. The night feels new, as if something has shifted the bones of the island. The moon spills through the mist in pale ribbons, and the crisp autumn air bites at the tip of my nose. The smell of supper drifts through every alley and open doorway: fish searing over flames, vegetables sautéing in butter, sausages crackling. The scents wrap around me, rich and grounding. My gods. Food, cool night air, and the sound of my people living. Absolute heaven.

When Pebble’s comes into view, I see Bleu leaning on the wall outside smoking his pipe, his back to me and his gaze fixed on the ocean. Watching it. Yearning for it. He’s somewhere deep in his own head. I can see it in the stillness of him. I think of the woman who was more mother to me than anyone else ever was.

I step up behind him, careful not to break the moment. “Thinking about her?” I ask gently. His captain’s hat catches the moonlight as he turns. His green eyes find mine and soften.

“Yes,” he whispers. “I always am.”

Bleu passes me the pipe. I take it carefully, drawing in a slow breath of smoke before letting it drift back into the fog.

“Losing a love like that, Cricket…” His voice falters as he gathers himself. I’ve never seen a man miss anything the way he misses her. “I hope ye never have to experience it.”

A sharp pain cuts through my chest, the memory of my dagger sliding into Maddoc’s heart. I close my eyes for a moment.

“I hope I don’t,” I say, my voice cooling over the wound. “Besides, I’m not capable of loving anyone like that in the first place.”

“Cricket,” he murmurs. “I know what yer destiny calls for. But ye can make the most of the time ye have. Find yer mate. Ye have one. We all do.”

My throat tightens at the thought that Maddoc wasn’t mine. I know it in the same quiet way I’ve watched the bond snap into place for others, in taverns, on docks, in stolen glances that turn into something unbreakable. I’ve read it in stories. I’ve seen it in real life. It never happened to us. The truth of that hurts almost as much as the realization that if I do find my mate, and if I lose them, the heartbreak will be monumentally greater than losing Maddoc. I can hardly fathom that. How can I possibly survive more loss than I’ve already been dealt?

“Speaking of destinies.” I change the subject of the conversation before it can cut any deeper. “Let’s go for a walk.” I gesture toward the shoreline.

He nods. Mira is likely back on The Siren, itching to come ashore. Without Silas out there, I’m not as worried about her wandering off on her own.

Bleu falls into step beside me. As the moonlight reaches us, his shadow stretches long enough to swallow mine whole. Bleu keeps to the side closest to the water, a silent protective gesture that warms my heart. My eyes sweep the entire area where we stand, making sure no one can hear our conversation. When I deem the coast is clear, I speak. “We need to talk about Mira,” I say, stepping on a strip of dried seaweed. It bursts beneath my boot with a sharp, satisfying pop.

“No, we don’t,” he replies, dismissing me without even looking over.

I stop walking. The world keeps moving, waves crashing against the distant rocks, gulls crying overhead. Behind us, Pebble’s roars with drunken pirates, but between us, everything goes still.

His eyes finally meet mine. By protecting his daughter, he’s caging her. “Bleu, keeping something this big from her…” My voice tightens. “It could destroy her. Why can’t you see that?”

He turns away and keeps walking. My anger spikes at his ignorance. “Bleu, I’m being fucking serious.” My boots grind into the sand as I follow him. “Mira carries the purest power in this world in her heart. And you’re doing nothing to prepare her for what she’s meant to become. No combat. No training. No information.”

The words leave my mouth sharp as blades. “That’s not protecting her. It’s practically a death sentence.”

He stops. Then turns fully toward me and walks back, each step solid and furious. I’ve touched a nerve. Good.

“Ye think I haven’t been training her?” he fires back. “Smith has been training her since Sirena passed…” His words stumble for a slight moment, and he avoids my eyes. “I can barely look at my own daughter without seeing her mother in her.” His voice breaks, just for a fraction of a second. “I love her. That’s exactly why I won’t tell her what she is. She needs to stay pure. Innocent. So her heart doesn’t turn black like the current Soul’s has.”

His argument is weak, but I can tell by the rigidity in his tone that he believes in it. I shake my head in disbelief. Gods, he’s more stubborn than I am.

“If you love her so much, then why are you hiding her from the world?” My voice cracks despite everything I do to keep it steady. “Why are you making her so small?”

I love her, too. She’s my sister in every way that matters, the lightest part of my very dark heart. Bleu’s right that Mira is pure, but he’s wrong about one thing. The world won’t taint her; she’ll spread that light wherever she goes.

“Ye do not tell someone their destiny,” Bleu snaps. “Ye don’t hand them a future that can break them before they’ve even had the chance to live it. It warps their path. It destroys their sense of choice.” The night air feels chillier, but I know his voice isn’t shaking from the cold.

“You and Sirena told me mine,” I bite back, my jaw tensing.

“We told ye because we hoped ye could change it,” he says, his voice rough and exhausted. “We thought that ye might find a way to save yourself. That, Cricket… that yer destiny was the one we could break.” His voice is full of hope.

A tear slips free before I can stop it, carving a line of heat down my cold cheek. I lift a hand to wipe it away, but Bleu’s palm reaches up first, calloused and gentle as it cups my face.

“Cricket,” he murmurs, “I want ye to live. Ye deserve to live.” He brushes the tear away with his thumb. I pull back, desperate for the comfort but knowing it’s too much to bear right now. My gaze drops to the sand shifting beneath my boots. This conversation isn’t about me, it’s about Mira.

“Mira is different,” he continues more quietly. “She was blessed. There’s no undoing that. The sea creatures know. The witches know. Every powerful being with sense knows. But the humans don’t. That was to keep her safe. If a pirate found out what she is, what power she holds, they would take her from me.” He spits into the wet sand, jaw tightening. “The only ones I worry about spreading it are those damned mermaids. Vicious little gossips, that breed.” He scoffs at his own words.

I stare down at the ground beside him. “So she’s meant to find out alone?” I ask. “Be blindsided by her own life?”