POV: Beth
The invitation arrived at dawn—not by messenger, but by tide.
A bottle washed against the hull, black glass, sealed with silver wax. Karn fished it out with a hook, nearly dropping it when he saw the symbol carved into the glass.
A spiral of teeth.
Silas’ mark.
Clove swore under his breath. Kaine spat into the water. Mira, of course, smiled like the sea had handed her a gift. Alaric stood silent, jaw locked, watching me as if I might shatter any second.
He broke the seal and read:
Neutral Cove. Sunset. Bring the girl.
— S.
Silas didn’t ask. He summoned.
And some part of me—the stupid curious part, the part that wanted truth—burned to answer.
By sunset we sailed toward the cove, a narrow crescent of black sand, cliffs rising like broken teeth on both sides. No ships waited near shore. Too quiet. Too still. A place meant for whispers and ghosts.
Alaric ordered half the crew to stay aboard, weapons ready. Only he, Mira, and I rowed toward land in a small boat. The salt wind cut cold against my face. My heart wouldn’t settle, fluttering like a trapped bird.
“Beth.” Alaric’s voice was rough, low. “We go in, we talk, we leave. Nothing more. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
But I wasn’t sure if I lied.
We stepped onto the sand. A string of dark lanterns burned along a pathway leading between cliff jaws. Shadows moved in torchlight. A dozen figures waited inside, cloaked, silent, like a cult attending their god.
Silas stepped forward.
Dressed in black velvet and rusted gold, hair loose in the wind like ink in water. He looked at me first—always first—eyes soft enough to break bone.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
Alaric scoffed. “We didn’t come for courtesy, Silas.”
“No,” Silas murmured, smile small enough to cut. “You came because you know what happens if you don’t.”
The air tightened.
He motioned for us to follow deeper inside the cavern where water lapped softly against rock. A table had been placed there—wine, black candles, seaweed parchment maps rolled neatly at center.
Parley.
But it didn’t feel peaceful. It felt like negotiation with execution waiting behind it.
We sat. Mira took the seat beside Silas—too close. Alaric beside me—deliberately claiming. My spine felt locked in place, every nerve screaming.
Silas poured wine for everyone except himself.
He leaned his elbows on the table, fingers threaded together. “I will not dance around truth. You know what I want.”
“Beth,” Alaric said dryly. “You’ve made it painfully obvious.”
Silas didn’t flinch. “She’s not a trinket you can pocket.”
“And she isn’t yours to parade,” Alaric shot back.
Their voices were calm. Too calm. Like two storms pretending to be still water, pretending they wouldn’t devour each other the moment lightning hit.
Silas turned to me. “You feel it, don’t you? The sea’s pulse. The call. You hear it even when you try not to.”
My throat tightened. My fingers curled against my thigh where he couldn’t see the tremor. “It’s none of your business.”
His expression softened—heartbreak, hunger, tragedy woven into one look that felt like drowning. “Everything about you is my business.”
Something flickered in his eyes—not desire, but recognition. Ownership. Destiny twisted into obsession.
He reached into his coat and unrolled a parchment.
On it—the map of all pirate seas. But marked deep in the Maelstrom, written in ancient runes:
LEVIATHAN BONE SWORD—SEA KING’S HEIR
My breath vanished.
Silas’ voice turned quiet. Honest. Terrifying. “Your father was no nobleman, Beth. He was the Sea King—last of his blood. You are his heir. The sword calls you alone.”
Behind my ribs, something pulsed—hot, electric, like I already knew.
Alaric stiffened. “You expect us to believe your bedtime stories?”
Silas smiled without warmth. “You already believe. You just hate that I’m the one saying it.”
The silence after those words was violent.
Then Alaric stood so fast his chair skidded. “Enough. We’re done here.”
Silas also rose—slower, like a tide lifting. “Sit down, Alaric.”
“I don’t take orders from men who hide behind tentacles.”
Silas’ jaw ticked once. “You want truth? Fine.”
He stepped closer, so close I smelled the ocean on him—ancient and cold.
“Tell her, Alaric,” Silas murmured. “Tell her how you ended up in the Prince’s prison.”
Alaric froze.
I looked at him sharply. He avoided my eyes.
Silas continued softly, deadly:
“A third Pirate King sold him to the Prince like cattle. A man Alaric trusted. I hunted that king for months but he vanished—leaving only me to fix what was broken. I confronted the royal fleet alone. I lost everything except power over the beast below.” His voice hardened, brittle with memory. “The Kraken was my prison before it was my crown.”
He faced me fully.
“You think Alaric protects you from me?” His expression shattered into something sharp and wounded. “He’s protecting you from the truth.”
I swallowed. “And you’re offering truth for what price?”
Silas stepped close—too close—lifting his hand as if to touch my cheek but stopping an inch away.
“Your loyalty.”
The word echoed like anchor into water.
My pulse went wild. Alaric reached instinctively for his sword.
Silas didn’t even glance at him. “I don’t want a war with you, Beth. I want you beside me. You were born for the sea throne—not to follow a captain who fears you becoming greater than him.”
Alaric lunged half a step—Mira blocked him smoothly, a warning glint in her eye.
My voice came out raw. “If I refuse?”
Silas smiled gently—heartbreakingly gentle.
“Then I will break the world until you beg me to stop.”
My blood iced.
“You have until the next moon,” he said softly. “Choose me and rule. Or choose him—” his eyes flicked to Alaric like blade-tip “—and drown.”
He stepped back into shadow. His followers dissolved behind him like smoke. The lanterns dimmed.
We were alone in the cavern.
The silence hit like thunder—thick, suffocating.
Alaric exhaled one shaky breath, fists trembling like he wanted to punch ocean itself.
Mira brushed imaginary dust from her sleeve, voice sugary sweet:
“Well. That went better than expected.”
I stared at the exit where Silas vanished, feeling like a tide was pulling me in two directions until I tore.
Storm before storm was gone.
Now? Storm had teeth. And it whispered my name.