POV: Beth
The war drums were silent—but every heartbeat on deck felt like one. Days passed since Silas’ warning, but it hung over us like a blade above the throat. No celebration tonight, no laughter, no rum bottles being passed around. Just whispers. Paranoia. The kind that crawls under skin.
The wind was sharp when I stepped onto deck, cloak whipping behind me. Lanterns swung overhead, painting everyone in sickly yellow. Karn and Clove sharpened weapons in silence. Kaine inspected cannon wheels, jaw tight. Even Alaric, king of arrogance, stood rigid at the wheel like stone carved from anger.
Ever since the parley, we were all pretending not to be afraid.
Mira chose this moment—of course she did—to appear beside me with soft footsteps and a smile too gentle to trust. Her raven hair fell over one shoulder, sea-salt glimmering on her lashes.
“You look tired, Princess.”
The nickname no longer felt mocking. That somehow made it worse.
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
“Are you?” she tilted her head, voice syrup-sweet. “You barely eat. Barely sleep. I hear you walking above deck at night. Training magic no one understands.”
My blood ran colder. “Were you watching me?”
She smiled wider—like a knife sliding deeper. “I watch everything. Someone has to, while our captain is busy trying to decide whether to kiss you or kill Silas.”
My breath stuttered. She said it casually—as if Alaric’s feelings were obvious. But the idea of Mira watching me at night left bile crawling up my throat.
Before I could respond, she leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear.
“Silas attacked two fleets last night. Vaporized them. No survivors.”
My heart slammed so violently it hurt. “How do you know that?”
“I have eyes everywhere,” she replied. “Alaric doesn’t believe me, but he will when wreckage washes ashore.”
Anger, fear, jealousy—everything burned inside me at once.
She placed a hand on my arm. Soft. Sisterly. Wrong.
“You and I could end this war,” she murmured. “Together. If Alaric stops being blind.”
I jerked away. “I don’t need you.”
“Maybe not.” Her smile sharpened. “But eventually… you’ll have no one else.”
She left me in that poison, walking toward Alaric like she owned the night.
And everyone watched her walk. Every man. Every woman. Every whisper stabbed like needles.
“She’s useful, she saved him once.”
“Beth is dangerous.”
“Cursed.”
I wanted to scream. Instead, I walked away—fast—toward the bow where the sea was darker than ink. I held my palm out and the ocean answered with a shiver. Ripples formed where my breath met water.
“No one else,” Mira’s words echoed in my skull.
I clenched my jaw. Wrong. I had myself. My power. My will to save Rowan.
Salt stung my eyes—the night wind merciless. I inhaled deeply, letting the rage steady me. Then I pushed my palms forward like I had tried a hundred times.
The tide answered.
Water rose—first a tremor, then a wave that bent toward my fingers like a creature waiting for command. I felt it—deep, electric. A connection. A hunger.
Stronger than last time.
I closed my fist. The wave collapsed silently, obedient.
A step behind me. My spine snapped straight—ready to fight.
Kaine.
“You’ll tear the ship apart training like that,” he growled, voice low. Not unkind—cautious.
“No,” I exhaled. “I’m controlling it now.”
He stared at me too long, eyes flicking with something unfamiliar. Fear. Respect. Maybe both.
Then he left—no advice, no praise.
I felt more alone than ever.
When I turned, Mira was already spinning her story—loud enough for half the crew to hear.
“She nearly drowned us again tonight,” Mira sighed, shaking her head dramatically. “I watched her. She’s reckless.”
Heat flushed up my neck. “I wasn’t—”
“Oh? Then tell us what you were doing?”
Her eyes gleamed. Cornering me.
The crew stared—waiting. Doubting.
My mouth opened, but fury strangled the words. Every day Mira grew roots deeper into them, while I… I stood like the villain in my own story.
Alaric arrived last, stepping between us like a drawn blade.
“What happened?” he asked, tone iron.
“She was using magic alone at the bow,” Mira reported sweetly.
“And?” I spat. “That’s not forbidden.”
“Maybe it should be,” a sailor muttered. Another nodded.
Alaric’s jaw flexed. “Enough. We’re not killing each other before Silas even arrives.”
But instead of supporting me, he just walked away—not even looking at me.
Something cracked inside my chest.
Later, when night swallowed the deck and most sailors slept in hammocks below, I returned to the bow to train again—anger as fuel. I tried calling small waves, shaping droplets, forcing them into spheres. Every failure crushed, every success fed hunger.
I wanted more.
I wanted to command storms. I wanted the sea to kneel.
But magic came with a cost—always. When I pushed too hard, ocean surged violently, rocking the ship. My hands shook, power blazing wild.
I forced myself to stop—breath ragged.
A soft voice behind me: “Careful. You’ll drown yourself before Silas gets the chance.”
Mira.
I didn’t turn. “Why are you here?”
“To help.” She stepped beside me, eyes glinting moonlight. “Or to watch you fall. I haven’t decided.”
My heart pounded.
“Silas won't stop until he gets you,” she continued. “But perhaps you should think—why YOU? Why not Alaric? Why not any other pirate king?”
I swallowed hard. Because of my blood. My magic. My destiny. Words I didn't want.
“I don’t want to be queen,” I muttered.
“Oh Beth,” Mira whispered with pity sharp enough to cut. “Power never cares what you want.”
Footsteps—louder this time. Alaric.
Instant tension.
He looked between us, jaw clenched. “It’s late.”
I met his stare—anger and longing tangled.
“You don’t tell me when to sleep,” I hissed.
He stepped closer—too close. “Then sleep anyway.”
For a moment, I wanted to hit him. Or kiss him. Or both.
Instead, I walked past him without breaking eye contact.
I heard him exhale like I'd punched him.
Mira watched us like a cat watches trapped birds.
And in that moment I realized —
War wasn’t coming. War was already here. Inside this ship. Inside us. And I wasn’t sure who would burn first.