Page 142 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Raiden watched her cry out with a dangerous look in his gaze. “And I am yours, Kora Cadell. Ayterni.”

62

Samuel

Samuel stood before the helm. Perpetual icy darkness was all he knew. The bleak black of a stone prison smothering his life, broken apart by a vixen’s eyes. The colour of emeralds, of a meadow in spring. But those eyes betrayed him time and time again. Vivian continually promised relief, promised he would fulfil his purpose, only to demand more, until he would have nothing left to give.

He was empty. A succubus of dread and death. All Samuel had left was his name—the one thing he refused to sacrifice. The armour tried stealing it away, but he would never forget it. And those who controlled him.

The ship listed on the grey sea, thunder rolling through the cloudy sky. A familiar route, with the Mist trailing starboard side, its inky tendrils cowering in the presence of true darkness.

“It’s fading, just as the latest missive confirmed.” Blake guided the ship, his soot-stained hands gripping the helm tight, matching his rigid frame. Something about him steering caused the most fleeting of anger before the dark magic tamed it, hiding it away, whispering to Samuel’s frayed mind to forget it.

To forget her.

“Zephyr has left them unprotected. Now is our chance to strike them in their heart. Once Galen falls, we can storm the highland. Its unlimited potential mine for the taking.” Powder dusted Barron’s cuffed shirt, and the same purple grain stained an envelope peeking from the inside of his black waistcoat.

He flicked the chain winded around his wrist, and the faintest of growls died in Samuel’s throat as the witch of the burning sun collapsed to Barron’s feet, clutching at the metal collar around her pale neck. Her ember eyes landed on Samuel, and he stared back vacantly, losing himself in the only thing that granted him solace.

The sun. A light amongst darkness. A singular burning candle guiding him through this sea of death.

“Samuel?” Vivian sang from the main deck. “Come here, I have need of you.”

Blake grimaced at his side. “I don’t know how you’re fine with this.”

“Your mother is a goddess and a queen, and you never deny a goddess,” Barron replied, gesturing to Samuel to move. The armour forced his legs into motion, stomping down the wide steps of the ebony vessel, towards Vivian by the central main mast. Her green robes flowed in the cool breeze, matching the shrouds and rigging, and she’d bound her hair in a royal braid around her head.

Samuel’s faint heart skittered and he swayed, his veins flaring to life. It was the most it had pounded in weeks, and he came to a halt at the kneeling man, his arms tied back against the mast. His shoulder joints protruded, the way his arms bent backwards around the mast suggesting they were broken, snapped by his elbows.

Samuel swallowed bile down as pit-dark eyes met his. Spiked veins clawed down to the male’s chin, leaking into his neck. Dark blood oozed from his nose and ears, and the sores smothering his body had become so decayed, a foul stench permeated the air.

Theron.

A faint memory, the constant irritation associated with this male hadn’t been erased . . . yet. As Theron recognised Samuel, pain so clear broke through, chased by anger. Samuel shifted, uncomfortably leaning towards his mistress, her wicked smile widening at the motion.

But . . . Death. He had arrived.

Maybe he would take Samuel with him.

“No . . .” Theron spluttered, his head lolling with the effort to keep it upright.

“You need some persuasion,” Vivian crooned, crooking her finger at Samuel.

He immediately came to his mistress’ side, standing before her as her finger slid down his face, across his jaw to his lips. It smelt off, but she commanded his attention, her green eyes cornering him into a pit of fear.

“Open wide,” she commanded.

Samuel’s jaw dropped and Vivian ran her finger down his tongue. His eyes immediately watered as she shut his mouth for him, the putrid, decayed taste causing sick to leak down the edges of his mouth. Yet he couldn’t release it, Vivian’s control crushing his body into submission.

“No! He’s choking!” Theron yelled, grimacing as his snapped arms heaved against his bindings.

“Tastes vile, doesn’t it?” Samuel could barely nod as he heaved internally, his eyes streaming, his heart picking up speed. Vivian spun Samuel to face the broken male, holding his chin down to look at him, his bile spilling onto her hand.

“Do you want to breathe, Samuel? Do you wish to release this infection from your lips?” Vivian’s grip tightened, crushing his mouth as it filled. His nose burned, his lungs screamed, shadows encroached the edges of his vision. “You are choking him, Eli. My magic will kill him soon. Tell us what we want to know.”

“I cannot see,” Theron seethed. “You’ve destroyed my gift. I can no longer see.”

Vivian raged, her eyes flaring as the ship violently rocked. Wood splintered around them, ocean water spraying across the deck, soaking their feet, yet the crew didn’t blink. They’d all witnessed it before. They all knew what corruption festered in the depths of her soul.