And still, Esmyra’s gaze never strayed from the king as she forced him to drown on his throne.
His body jerked and spasmed as he choked. His crown tumbled from his head, clattering to the floor as his face turned an ugly shade of blue.
Draevyn was rooted like a witness at the edge of a grave. His lungs were only able to take in rapid, shallow breaths as his lips parted in horror.
Esmyra didn’t blink. Didn’t falter. Only watched as her head tilted. “And now you’ll know what it was like for Cyrus Blackwood all those days you held him on land. For all those weeks you made himsuffer the fate of his curse, only to rip his life away the second I returned it to him.”
“Drae, make her stop!” Atlas bellowed, his shadows relentlessly striking the conjured wall, unable to get through.
Draevyn couldn’t. His focus was entirely on Esmyra taking her revenge against his sire and king. The man who offered his heirs to the God of Rage and War in exchange for power. His father who’d made his life a living hell, locking him up with velsinyte in secret for years. The husband who struck his wife, beating her to near death until Draevyn’s magic exploded to try to save her. The tyrant king who took everything from their people without giving an ounce back.
The truth was, Draevyn didn’t want to stop her. And while that should’ve terrified him, it didn’t. King Rowe deserved this fate. Perhaps he deserved even worse.
Esmyra lifted a hand toward the king, her magic plunging more water past his lips and down his throat. And then, with a final violent shudder, the king went still. A gurgle slipped from him as his head bowed, seawater dribbling from his mouth.
Her power leisurely eased throughout the room as she dropped the king’s lifeless body onto the throne like a broken doll. And the roaring wall of water evaporated into a sheer mist.
The room became deathly silent.
“See,” Esmyra started, exhaling softly. Her stare moved to Atlas, whose face was riddled with shock and fury. “I didn’t touch him.”
CHAPTER 10
Esmyra
Esmyra stared at King Rowe’s lifeless body. He slumped in his grand throne like a washed-up corpse on the shore. The water still dripped from his ruined form, soaking his front and pooling at his feet.
She should’ve felt victorious. Kaelypso took back what was stolen from Esmyra in a reckoning that was long overdue. The king stole everything from her, and now, she had stolen the last breath from his lungs.
But as reality settled in, it didn’t feel like triumph.
It felt…hollow.
Because even though Esmyra got exactly what she wanted, did exactly what she vowed, it didn’t fill the gaping wound in her chest. Murdering the king didn’t bring Cyrus back, and there was still no sign of her crew.
She was still all alone, save for Syrena who awaited her return in Maerinys.
“You are never alone,” Kaelypso said. “I am here, and we will take back what was stolen from us both.”
Her heart thundered, but her face remained impassive as she stared at the man she’d slain.
“We will,” sheanswered.
Her rage crept back in at the goddess’s words, and the edges of her vision cleared, revealing the rest of the destroyed throne room. Her fingers twitched at her sides, power still pulsing in the air around her like an unseen current.
Then, her eyes met Draevyn’s, noting a brutal scar resembling claw marks now maiming one of them. She wondered how it happened, wishing she’d been the one to give it to him.
He was just… staring at her.
His whiskey gaze was unreadable, dimmed by what she could only assume was shock.
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” she crooned, her spine straightening as she took a step toward him. “Perhaps you don’t recognize me.”
Esmyra’s form shimmered, silver hair morphing from the color of the moon to the midnight sky in seconds. The tattoos swirling along her arms halted and burned their old crimson hue. Her sheer dress transformed into a billowy blouse cinched in by a corset, while the skin of her legs disappeared beneath black leather trousers and thigh-high boots. And with a taunting wink, her captain’s hat appeared atop her head.
She flashed him a sly smile and Draevyn’s face paled, mouth falling open at the sight of her.
Esmyra told herself she didn’t care what he thought. That his opinion of her no longer mattered and never would again.
