Tides of Torment (Immortal Realms Book 2)

Inwardly, Sereia’s heart stopped, then began racing faster than a bob of seals hurtling toward land to avoid a shark. Her parents had never once mentioned the agreement between them. As far as they—and Sereia herself—were concerned, the betrothal had been made with the king, and so long as she lived in Midniva, the marriage would be taking place.

When Travion had proposed, Sereia really felt that she had no choice but to flee the kingdom. Had she realized she had a say in the matter, they could have ended on better terms.

Outwardly, she remained calm, leaning in against him, his arm snaking around her waist to hold her.

He’d stopped looking. Was this Travion’s way of saying he loved her, or that he had simply given up on the idea of marriage after his one shot with her?

He’d never actually said the words to her. Not after their heated sessions of tumbling with one another, and not even when he proposed. Each time she returned to port, Travion had been there to receive her without question and without hesitation. But while they shared his bed and their bodies, they did not share words or feelings.

At one point, about fifty years ago, Sereia had been ready to voice her thoughts on the matter. To tell Travion why she had leaped from that cliff, why she hadn’t been ready for marriage—that she loved him. But when she’d begun to speak, he’d cut her off, pressing kisses to her lips.

She’d never broached the topic with him again.

Sereia hated to show weakness. Vulnerability was the worst kind of weakness, when anyone would take it as a sign of her being unfit for her command. A mere lady of the court who set sail thinking she belonged to the high seas. It should have been different to reveal her vulnerabilities to Travion, but after everything that had taken place between them, it felt like leaping over a ravine without knowing what was on the other side.

“I’ve never been tempted into it by anyone else, either.” She could have added “except for you,” but that was as much of an admission as she was willing to give right now.

Sereia rolled the flat stone over in her hand, smoothing a thumb over one silken side, then pulled her arm back and let loose the stone, watching it sail through the air and skip over the surface.

“We haven’t slept much in the past few days. We should head back to the inn,” Travion suggested, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

Sereia only murmured in agreement, pulling away for the walk back. Being with Travion consistently and for so long was making her wish that she could take the leap. Even while they had courted, they hadn’t really been able to see what life together could be like. Not like this. They had argued over the last week, but they had also begun to learn about each other. It made Sereia long to spill her secrets. Unleash all of her fears and hopes upon him. But there were monsters to kill and shields to keep up.

From the beach, they climbed rocks that led up to narrow streets. Small, weathered homes made of clay nestled on either side, their seagrass thatched roofs requiring repair. There was no glass in their windows, only wooden shutters, which revealed their large cracks by the amount of light filtering out through them. In the doorway of one home, a small, grubby child stood, stick in hand. His clothes were tattered and ill-fitting. Most likely stolen, or old hand-me-downs already worn by many siblings and cousins. There wasn’t a lot of extra or new around these parts. Parents were more invested in trying to feed their children than clothing them in fresh garments.

Much like the inn they were staying in, Saventi itself was worn and ready to fall down around itself. The feudal lord who governed the entire island of Propentri took all that he could from the people and left them with barely enough to see themselves through. Though a nation that owed its allegiance to Tribonik, it was offered no help or resources, only forced to pay tithes.

While coming to port in Saventi wouldn’t get Sereia lynched, it took everything within her not to force her way into Lord Alekhin’s home and slit his throat.

Sereia watched as Travion stopped and pulled a coin from his pocket, flicking it into the hands of the small boy, who caught it with a glowing smile on his face.

As they continued walking, Sereia slid her arm through Travion’s and leaned upon him a little. “Something’s been niggling at my mind . . .”

“Yes?” He looked down at her.

“Lefyr mentioned rumors of a man or a woman along the waters during the attacks . . . What are the chances we find anything helpful here? I am assuming we’ll be tracking the witnesses down and questioning them ourselves?”

Travion sighed. “We will. People are confused, which either means no one here has witnessed it firsthand or we are dealing with more than one person controlling The Creaturae. With any luck, tomorrow, the locals can be persuaded to speak the truth.”

“Be prepared to loosen tongues with a little help from coin. Nothing speaks to the desperate more than something that will help alleviate their need.”

Travion nodded.

“Should we rent horses tomorrow?” They’d reached the inn, and she grabbed the door, stepping back to hold it for him. He quirked a brow at her, and she quirked one back at him.

“Yes. I’m not keen on walking the length of the entire island.”

Inside, Adrik sat in a back booth, a couple of hired girls on either side of him. He appeared to be blissful and content. The only other crew members who had not yet retired for the night were Finn and Yon, who sat together at a table before the large fireplace. Each clasped a tankard of ale. Neither said a word, but both stared contemplatively down at the flickering flames. Although they didn’t acknowledge it, Sereia got the sense that both were more than aware she and Travion had returned.

Neither she nor Travion waited around to chat. Having already booked rooms earlier, they instead mounted the stairs to the chambers above. Sereia stopped at her room and pulled her key from the pocket of her vest to unlock the door. Stepping into the room, she kicked the door shut with her heel, slamming it in Travion’s face.

She heard him grunt on the other side and smirked to herself. It was hard not to torment him, even just a little.

“Suppose that’s a goodnight then,” he muttered to himself, which made her smirk broaden.

Sereia waited only a heartbeat before she turned back around and opened the door. Travion had already turned away, ready to head back downstairs and request another room for himself.

“Where are you going? Get your ass in the room.” He paused at her words, turning back to look at her. “My apologies, please come into my room, Your Majesty.”

Travion wasted no time, taking her about the waist and hoisting her up onto his hips. This time, it was he who kicked the door shut. “Why must you be so trying?” he growled.

“It makes the ravishing all the better.”

Travion chuckled and then carted her across the room, where he unceremoniously dumped her onto the bed. “Shall I swat your bottom for such behavior?”

Sereia’s eyes narrowed. “You can certainly try.”

He was upon her quickly, his kisses wringing moans from her lips. She unbuttoned his vest, divesting him of it. In turn, Travion’s fingers moved to the buckles of her leather corset, making quick work of unfastening them, and Sereia lifted her hips from the bed so he could pull it out from under her.

With the corset gone, Travion hurriedly pulled her linen shirt up over her head and tossing it over his shoulder. His darkened blue eyes traveled over her bare flesh, and her toes curled at the lust she saw there. Travion’s firm hands pressed her thighs apart so he could kneel between them, and then his lips captured one hardened peak.

Sereia’s hands moved into his hair, holding him against her as her hips lifted involuntarily from the mattress.

He did not disappoint her, pressing his thumb to her, finding the needy bundle of nerves through her trousers, and rubbing with just enough friction to make her whine for more.

“By the sea, Travion,” she panted. “Don’t tease.”

He chuckled darkly against her skin, tugging at her nipple with his teeth. He then lifted his head to look at her with such pride and devilment she felt herself grow even slicker with want. “I thought tormenting made the ravishing all the better?”

Sereia growled as her words were thrown back at her, and grabbed his face, pulling him up to her lips. The kiss was a clash of wills, tongues warring for dominance and pulling moans from both of them. In a frenzy, the rest of their clothes were discarded, and Travion had flipped Sereia onto her stomach before she had a chance to react. Grabbing her by the thighs, he pulled her up onto her knees, and then, in fact, did lay a stinging slap to her ass.

Sereia gasped, her cheek pressed into the bedding, muffling the sound a little.

“You are going to pay for that.” Two fingers were thrust into her suddenly, cutting off anything else she could have said as a groan of pleasure left her instead, and she ground back against his hand.

“Is that so?” he taunted, voice thick with desire. Slowly, he stroked her, crooking his fingers in just the right way to hit her internal spot.

Sereia shut her eyes. The slick sounds of his actions and her own heavy panting were the only sounds in the room. Travion leaned over her and pressed kisses down her spine, nipping roughly between her shoulder blades.

Hissing once more, Sereia opened her eyes to peer up at him. “Enough teasing.”

“What do you say?” He stroked her faster and deeper, making her body quiver. And yet, she needed more.

“Now,” she growled.

Travion’s eyes darkened, and instead of giving her what she demanded, he pressed a third finger into her, stretching her further. The burn made her whine, her lips parting to haul in more air.

“By sea and shore, please!” Travion growled triumphantly at her plea and withdrew his fingers. The loss left her empty and aching. He did not enter her right away, however, just brushed the tip of himself through her slick heat, gliding against the bud that throbbed greedily there. “Travion,” Sereia grumbled, her frustration mounting.

He didn’t make her wait any longer. He entered her in one long stride, driving her up the bed a little and making her cry out in pleasure. No one had ever filled her so perfectly as he did, stretching her just enough to make her aware of it.

Travion’s first retreat was slow, a gradual glide almost fully out of her, and then a sharp return that pushed her forward once more and made her body quake from the force. Sereia raised herself up onto one hand and pressed the other to the wall before them, using it to brace herself so that she could experience the full force of each thrust.

Behind her, Travion panted, and when his hands moved to clutch her hips tightly, fingers pressing into the flesh, Sereia could feel how they trembled with his own need.

She looked back over her shoulder, their eyes meeting in the short distance between. His skin was flushed, his auburn hair falling down into his eyes. He was both fierce and beautiful, and Sereia had never wanted anything more. “Don’t hold back, Your Majesty.”

Travion’s eyes flickered with the challenge. “As you wish.”

The pace he set for them struck forcefully and quickly inside her, leaving Sereia unable to do more than cry in pleasure and brace herself. Each snap of his hips against her bottom a sharp sting that only added to the pleasure building within.

When she thought she could take no more, he reached around to press his fingers against her clit, pinching it between thumb and forefinger. That action sent Sereia spiraling. She cried out, not caring who else heard, and let the wave of her pleasure wash through her. Travion’s thrusts quickened, his own breathing labored, and he, too, was moaning harshly as he spent himself inside her.

Together, they collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and panting.

Turning her head, Sereia kissed him slowly, letting their breath mingle and his scent fill her nose. “That was not an incentive to behave,” she whispered as their lips parted.

“It wasn’t meant to be.” He smirked and kissed her brow.

Even after a busy day and late night, Sereia still woke up early, as did Travion. After dressing in a white linen shirt that fell off her shoulders, with the pendant nestled against the swell of her breasts, and a pair of dark blue trousers, Sereia headed for her door. Yon stood on the other side, her swords crossed at her back, black hair tied in a topknot.

“We’re coming with you.”

“We?” Sereia asked. Somehow, despite not mentioning their plans to Yon, she was evidently not only aware of what was going on but had properly gauged the time at which Sereia would rise.

She should be concerned with how well Yon knew her.

“Finn,” Yon responded. “We’re not leaving you and His Grace to go out scouting on your own.”

Sereia felt Travion step up behind her before he spoke. “Are we not to be trusted on our own?”

“No, you’re not.” It was Finn, coming down the hall from his room.

Clearly, some talking had taken place between the two of them at the fireplace last night, as they’d managed to plan this bombardment.

“Well, let us at least eat before we head out.” Sereia slipped past Yon and headed down the stairs to the tavern below.

While they waited for their breakfast to be served, Sereia caught the arm of the innkeeper’s wife. “Do you happen to know who in town we could speak to about the giant crab sightings?” The elderly woman eyed her suspiciously, and Sereia pulled a coin from her pocket and held it out to her. “We would greatly appreciate your help.”

The woman took the coin, and though she didn’t look any less suspicious, she answered. “You’re going to want to speak with Yergin Ologov.”

“Where can we find him?”

“Go down the lane to the right when you head out the door, and at the next lane, turn left. His home is the one with the black dog tied out front.”

“Thank you.”

Once they finished their hearty breakfast, the foursome stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. The sunshine should have made the village of Saventi more appealing. Unfortunately, all it did was highlight the truly impoverished state of the homes and buildings around them.

“Do their leaders not care about the state they are in?” Travion asked as they turned right.

“The mortal on the throne in Tribonik cares only about the tithes his lords send him from their districts. As long as he has what he feels he is owed, he doesn’t care what becomes of his people.”

Travion shook his head, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “A king is meant to be a caretaker, not a tyrant.”

And that was why the people of Midniva were so fortunate and lived good lives. Travion hadn’t come to the middle realm with the desire to rule with an iron fist and steal everything from his people to fill his belly and his coffers. He’d come to help and protect them. Sereia had traveled the seas and had never found a ruler who cared for their people nearly as much as Travion did.

The home of Yergin Ologov was just as decrepit as all the ones that had come before it and was made only sadder looking by the mangy old black dog out front. It was tied with weathered rope about the neck and tethered to a hook on the side of the house. The animal whined as they approached, and Sereia wondered how long it had been since it had eaten.

As she and Travion stepped up to the door, Sereia could hear the bustle of someone moving around inside and voices. When Travion knocked, a hush fell over the house, and it took long enough for someone to answer that she started to wonder if they were going to at all.

When the door opened, it was to reveal a woman in her middle years, with graying hair and a faded floral dress. Her dark brown eyes scanned them both over, then narrowed. “Yes?”

“We’re looking to speak with Yergin Ologov, please,” Travion informed her.

“Who’re you?” She looked from him to Sereia once more, and then her eyes flicked up to their ears. Sereia saw the wariness build in her eyes.

“We’re trying to track down the being responsible for the atrocious attacks happening at sea and now along the coast. We just want to know what he may know about the giant crabs that were spotted.”

The door was suddenly wrenched open even wider, and an angry looking man stood behind the woman. “What business is it of yours what I’ve seen or not seen?” he growled, glaring at them.

From the corner of her eye, Sereia saw Yon shift closer to her.

Travion held up his hand. “We would greatly appreciate—”

“We’ll pay you,” Sereia cut him off, elbowing Travion in the side.

Yergin eyed her. “How much?” Travion held out his hand with an offering of coins. Yergin looked and then reached out to accept the coin. However, he didn’t step back so they could enter the dwelling. “What do you want to know?”

“Did you see the crabs coming from the sea?” Travion asked.

He nodded. “Huge as a bull. Came out of the water and attacked a herd of sea lions. Pinchers cut them right in two.”

“Bloody hell,” Sereia cursed softly.

“Was there anyone around? We’ve been told that some have seen a man while others have spotted a woman near the beach at the time of the crab sighting.”

Yergin shook his head. “I just saw the crab. You want to talk to Borsik. He saw someone strange when they came at night.”

“Where can we find this Borsik?” Travion asked.

Yergin lifted a hand and pointed down the lane. “Keep going that way until you come to the end, then turn right. Up the hill to the house at the top.”

“How will we know we’re at the right one?”

Yergin scoffed. “It’s at the top.”

Helpful. “One last thing,” Sereia cut in. “Where were you when you saw the crab?”

“Two miles north of here, on a beach filled with rocks.”

“You’ve been most helpful,” Travion murmured, and together, they stepped away from the door.

“Borsik?” she asked him.

Travion nodded. “If we can find him.”

With Yon and Finn at their backs, ever watchful, they headed down the long lane, passing more homes in shambles. At the end of the lane, they turned right and began to walk up the steep hill. The homes had ended, and instead, there was a browning hill dotted with tombstones, and one scraggly looking crab apple tree that did not appear to bear any blossoms.

Yergin’s words about them knowing what home it was made sense as they crested the hill. It was the only building around. Though, to call it a home was an exaggeration. “Shack” would be more appropriate. The holes between the wood boards would allow not only the wind to enter the residence but several small animals as well.

The roof, which was also made of wood slabs, had several holes that were covered with seaweed and grass patches.

“This village saddens and depresses me,” Finn muttered behind them.

“Welcome to Tribonik, where only the truly wealthy can survive.” Sereia shook her head. Perhaps Travion should sweep the middle realm over and stake his claim to all of it. The only ones who would lose would be the worthless rotters sitting in places of power.

This time when Travion knocked on the door, they were met with the sound of cursing from inside, several thumps, and a shuffling noise before the door opened wide. An old man with a wrinkled face and sparse white hair over his head peered out at them, squinting at the bright morning sunlight.

“I’ve got nothin’ worth stealin’!” he shouted and moved to shut the door.

Travion was faster and shoved his hand against the door to keep it from closing. “And we have no desire to take.” This time he was prepared and simply held out the coin. “We just want some information.”

Borsik took the coin and then used all of his weight to shove the door closed. Travion growled, and Sereia huffed. They looked at each other, and with silent understanding, both of them drove a shoulder into the door at the same time, sending it falling off the hinges.

As the door crashed to the floor, dust filled the inside of the house, almost like smoke. A shocked Borsik stood staring at them, wide-eyed and coughing.

Travion and Sereia stepped farther into the shack as a united front. Finn dipped his head low to walk in behind them, and finally, Yon followed, stopping just behind Sereia, to the side.

“I believe I paid you, and I’d appreciate getting my coin’s worth.”

Still coughing, Borsik waved the dust away from his face and moved to sit down at the one small table and rickety chair in the room. “Fine,” he rasped. “What is it you want?”

“I need a description of the being you saw just before the giant crabs came out of the water.” Travion stood not too far from Borsik, looking down at him intently.

Sereia took the knife out of her boot and stood tapping it on her palm—just a little added incentive for him to be honest and to be quick about it.

Borsik looked between the two of them apprehensively before his eyes landed on Finn, who had to tip his head down a little to properly fit inside his shack. “All I saw was a figure, didn’t see no face. Don’t know if it was a man, woman, or fae.” He pointed at Travion, indicating his ears. “But . . .” He drifted off, becoming distracted as he stared at Yon. “My, she’s a tiny one, isn’t she? Rather opposites with this walking tree over here.” He nodded at Finn.

“But?” Sereia pushed, voice heavy with irritation and impatience.

Borsik shook his head. “Didn’t see a face but felt a strange hum in the air. Like a spell was goin’ to be cast, or one of you strange fae was manipulatin’ somethin’.” His eyes narrowed on them, as if at any moment, Sereia or Travion would begin doing “strange fae” magic.

“Was this figure holding a book?” Travion pressed.

Brosik’s brow furrowed, and he fell silent, looking to be in thought. His fingertips drummed on the table. “May have been a book . . .” he mused more to himself than to them.

“Where did you see this person?” Sereia asked, fighting back another growl. She hated the fact he seemed to be dawdling so much.

“If you take the road out of town headin’ north, the crabs come up along the coast. Not a rhyme nor reason when they show. Some have gone an’ see nothin’ at all, others have passed and barely made it out alive. It’s like somethin’s lyin’ in wait, watchin’ for somethin’ in particular to set them off.”

Sereia and Travion shared another look. “Thank you for your time,” Travion said briskly. “We’ll leave you to the rest of your morning. Best of luck with the door.”

Both Yon and Finn waited until Sereia and Travion had passed outside before they left the house. On his way out, Finn was kind enough to pick the door up and rest it against the wall for Borsik, then he ducked his way back out into the sunshine.

“Well, I say our best course of action is to get back into town, hire some horses, and head north.” Sereia slid her knife back into the top of her boot.

Travion nodded. “I agree. We’ve got a heading, there’s no sense wasting more time here in the village.”

As the four set back down the hill, heading into the main part of the village once more, Sereia decided information gathering was not her favorite task and she was very glad she had Yon to typically do this for her.

She looked over her shoulder. “How do you do this for me all the time?”

Yon’s head tipped slightly to the side. “What, Captain?”

“This.” Sereia motioned back to Borsik’s shack and then in the rough direction of Yergin’s home. “Seeking out tidbits of information and dealing with the likes of them.”

Yon’s hand disappeared and then reappeared with a small jade-handled knife, which she spun around her hand before grasping it carefully to rest with blade edge against her throat. “There are more entertaining ways to get information than paying with coin.”

Finn coughed at this announcement, and at her side, Travion chuckled darkly. “Now that is a sentiment I can support.”

“We cannot get banned from another port,” Sereia warned them both. Though a smirk bent her lips at the edge. She had to agree with them, even if silently.

Beside their inn sat a stable, and with a more than fair portion of coin, they were able to hire four relatively healthy looking steeds to take them on the road out of Saventi. Sereia fell in beside Travion as they rode down the dirt-packed street, leaving Yon and Finn to take up a protective and watchful position at their back. Both Adrik and Captain Darragh had been given instructions to see to any ship needs for both The Saorsa and HMS Speedwell. They would need to be ready to return to the sea at a moment’s notice.

As they left the village behind them, the morning grew hotter. Bright sunshine beat down upon their shoulders and there was not a cloud in the sky to offer any relief. The cry of gulls came in off the water, and the scent of salt wafted in on the gentle breeze. Despite the heat, it was a good day to be traveling, by either land or sea. Sereia was not displeased to be atop a horse rather than on her ship.

The northern road they followed was well worn from travelers, and it curved along the coastline. Salt damaged trees lined the roadway. Their tall, skinny trunks were barren until the very top, where lush green leaves blew in the gentle summer breeze. The coastline was rugged, the side of the road giving way to rocks and small cliffs falling down into the deep blue sea that surrounded the island.

“So, is it our hope that something simply crawls from the sea into our laps or that we stumble upon someone looking suspiciously devious?” Sereia lifted her voice and glanced over at Travion.

He shook his head but shot her a slightly mischievous look. “I suppose I was counting on your habit of finding misadventure wherever you go.”

She eyed him. “What makes you think I have a habit of misadventure?”

“Krakens, sea serpents, burning ships?” He glanced up at the sky as if trying to recall more happenings.

“Now, I would not label those as a mis-anything. Those were a delight, plain and simple, m’lord.” She grinned at him, and he returned it.

“We’ll look for the beach Yergin mentioned,” he added more seriously. “And perhaps, if you don’t mind getting wet, you can dive in to check in the water to see if there are any signs of disturbances.”

Sereia nodded. “I can do that.” There was an odd sense of pleasure trickling through her that she didn’t necessarily want to admit to, but which absolutely came from the fact he had said she could and not we.

By the time the noonday sun was in the sky, they had made their way quite far along the coast with nary a sight to be had. They passed through a small collection of shanties, some nestled on the rocks and some built on stilts leading out to small wharfs. Not enough to be considered a town, just a group of people who supported and protected each other. They did not take kindly to the sight of four strangers—and three fae, at that—very fondly, but at least they responded to questions when asked. The beach they were looking for was only another half-hour journey ahead of them.

As they came out on the other side of the shanties, they spotted an older gentleman who had just pulled his small boat ashore and flipped it over on the beach so it wouldn’t wash away. He spat on the ground near his feet as their party pulled up before him on the road. Dressed in a worn looking button-up cotton shirt and slacks rolled up to his knees, Sereia could tell he was not wealthy. His skin was tanned almost to the point of leather, which not even the cotton hat with a small brim on his head could help to protect at this point.

“We’ve not got any extra fish for you,” he called out in a gruff tone, speaking the native Tribonik language with a little bit of island flare. Fortunately, it was a language Sereia had well mastered.

“We’re not looking to claim any of your fish. Alekhin steals enough from your pockets and nets as it is.” Together, she and the old man spat on the ground at mention of the lord. “We’re searching for a foreigner, possibly a fae, who may have been seen carrying an old tome. They would have been spotted just before or after the emergence of the giant crabs that have been attacking as of late.”

The man stared at Sereia as if she possessed six heads. “You’re the only foreigners I see about these parts.” He then tossed his small catch of fish over his shoulder and headed down the road, back toward the shanties.

Travion grumbled. “I think I caught enough to understand he was of no help.”

Sereia sighed, feeling hot and underwhelmed by their findings. “No help at all.” The noonday sun only seemed to be intensifying. A dive into the ocean to search for crabs could not come soon enough.

“Well, there’s nothing to do but continue on,” Travion muttered, sighing his own frustration. “The beach isn’t far now.”

Using her knees to keep her seat on the horse as they began moving once more, Sereia gathered her long hair up on top of her head and knotted it with a spare piece of string she had tied around her wrist just for this purpose. With some relief from the sea breeze now blowing against the back of her neck, she relaxed a little.

Her muscles strained, and her bottom ached from riding in a saddle for the first time in months, but it was a pleasant ache. It reminded her of the burn in her arms after a proper sword fight, when she battled for not only her own life but the safety of her ship and crew. While the purpose of this journey was strained and tragic, Sereia was glad she was taking it with Travion. To properly see him as a king, the way he pushed himself to protect what was his responsibility . . . They were the same, in more ways than she had ever realized.

The calm did not last. They had not ridden very far when Travion stiffened beside her, and it instantly put Sereia on edge. She followed his gaze out to the water and saw what had caught his attention.

Across the rocks exposed by the receding tide, giant green crabs made their way toward them. Seven in total. Just as the villagers had warned, they were each as big as a dairy cow with claws the size of a large sow. Black beady eyes peered maliciously over the beach, and the click of their scuttling legs over the stones sounded like a blacksmith’s hammer falling on an anvil.

“Bloody hell!” Travion growled at the same time Sereia exclaimed, “By the Sea!”

She looked over at Travion. “Please tell me you can communicate with these things and order them back into the water?”

In response, Travion squinted, and a look of concentration came over him before he finally shook his head. “All I’m getting is a sense of hunger. There is no turning them back.”

Sereia cursed.

“Your Grace, they don’t appear to be slowing down,” Finn called out.

“What do you say about battling crabs large enough to pinch you nearly in two?” he asked her rather than responding to Finn. His blue eyes sparked with both frustration and excitement.

“I say, what are we waiting for?” Throwing her leg over the horse, she withdrew the sword from her hip as she slid quickly to the ground.

Behind her, Yon was already on the ground, both of her swords pulled free from the scabbards on her back.

Sereia raced over the pebbly beach toward the first crab. The creature’s black eyes focused on the fresh meal approaching, and it reached for her with its pincer. Sereia raised her sword in a two-handed grip, blocking the attack. Her blade scraped along the outer curve, setting off sparks and a ring of metal. Narrowly ducking the clutch of the second claw, Sereia stepped just out of reach, striking once more with her sword. The sharp blade made the barest of chips in the hard shell.

“How are we to kill the damn things?” she shouted quickly, muscles straining as she pushed away another attack. Sereia took a moment to search for Travion in the throng and nearly lost her head to another crab behind her.

“Captain, duck!” came a shout from Yon, and having learned to trust her entirely, Sereia dropped to her knees and rolled beneath the crab in front of her.

The move confused both crabs, the one above her scuttling to the side in search of its prey. Sereia rolled to her left, her elbow painfully digging into rocks and shells that slit her open, and narrowly missed being speared by a sharp crab foot in the process.

Shooting to her feet once more, Sereia brandished her sword and ignored the torn sleeve of her shirt, now dripping with blood.

“They’ve got to have a weak spot somewhere,” Travion shouted out to them all, ducking beneath a claw coming his way. He managed to lodge the tip of his blade in the joint of one front leg only to have another crab approach him from behind.

“Behind you!” Sereia shouted, but she didn’t have time to see how he made out. The crab closest to her turned at her voice and snapped forward with its claw. Sereia leaped back quickly, but the tips of the claw caught her side, tearing shirt and flesh alike, and she tripped over a large rock, tumbling onto her back.

Wincing from the screaming protest of her spine against stone and the searing throb of her fresh wound, Sereia swung out with her sword as the crab moved to loom over her, hissing threateningly. She blocked the first strike of its claw and rolled just out of the way of the second, feeling the brush of it against her neck.

Panting with adrenaline and desperation, Sereia thrust her sword upward, aiming for its mouth—and stabbing clear through and up into its head.

The crab released another softer hissing noise, and a large white bubble popped from its mouth before its legs folded beneath it, and it dropped.

“Curse the seas!” Sereia shouted as the crab’s weight landed on her, pinning her legs and part of her torso to the beach.

It was a crushing weight that impacted her diaphragm and reduced her breathing to short, shallow pants. Yanking her sword free of the crab’s mouth, she dropped it beside her. Placing her hands on the underside edge of the shell, Sereia pushed, groaning through her teeth as the weight barely shifted. Sharp clips sounded against the rocks around her, and the shadow of a second crab blocked the hot sun above.

Sereia had just enough wiggle room to roll her head and shoulders out of the way of its strike but felt the graze of claw against her neck. Frantically grabbing her sword, Sereia raised it to protect her head, blocking another attack. But without the ability to free herself from the dead crab, she was as good as lost.

The beast grabbed onto her sword with one claw, pulling it from her hand, and struck with the second. Sereia could only lift her arms up and wait for the deathblow to land.

However, it never came.

A hard grunt sounded, causing Sereia to open her eyes to find Finn above, pushing the crab claw away with his hand. Angrily, the crab lashed out and grasped Finn’s thigh with its free pincer. He gasped in pain but punched forward into the crab’s dark black eye. The creature released an ear-splitting sound of pain and released him.

Panting, Finn brushed the back of his hand across his forehead and plucked his sword back up from the beach, then advanced on the crab. For such a large fae, he was swift and moved inside the crab’s reach before it had a chance to react. With a roar of anger and a flex of savage strength, Finn flipped the crab over onto its back, and amidst its frantic waving legs, drove his sword down through the weak abdominal shell.

The crab jerked violently, and then stopped moving.

“Well that’s one way to do it,” Sereia said, peering up at the tall fae now panting over her.

Without missing a beat, Finn was at her side, gripping the edge of her dead crab and lifting so that she was able to slide out from under it.

“Are you alright, Captain?”

“Much better now,” Sereia grunted as she rose to her feet. “Thanks for the assistance, Finn.”

Travion’s guard nodded, then swung around to fend off the advance of a third crab.

Beyond him, Yon was being pulled out from beneath the legs of a crab she had just killed by yet another crab that had caught her ankle. The creature lifted her into the air, and Yon dangled, both swords crossed before her. As the crab lashed out at her with its free claw, she blocked it with the cross of her swords, shoving it back, but cried out as the beast clenched her ankle more severely.

Sereia raced to her aid, darting around a small boulder. Lifting her sword above her head, she brought the blade down on the weakest point of the crab’s arm, the first joint before the claw. The crab hissed as the shell cracked, but her sword didn’t go through.

When it swung Yon violently through the air and turned on her, Sereia leaped to the side, trying to keep away from its face and second claw so she was able to make another harsh chop at the joint. This time, her blade went clean through, and the claw as well as Yon fell to the ground.

The creature forgot Sereia’s crumpled assassin and instead advanced on her. Had she not thought the thing was just hungry, Sereia would have sworn there was vengeance glowing in the depths of its dark eyes.

Prepared, Sereia blocked the swinging claw, distracting it, while Yon climbed to her feet and, ignoring her injured ankle, launched herself at the crab’s legs, then swung herself up onto its back. Sereia parried another strike from the claw and kicked out with her foot, connecting with one of the crab’s eyes.

Kneeling on its back, Yon clung on as the crab reared up, trying to shake her off. To help her, Sereia swung at the other arm. When the beast settled its front feet back on the ground, Yon struck, driving one of her swords deep into a weak spot just above its mouth. The crab shuddered and crashed to the rocks.

Yon fell forward from the force, and Sereia opened her arms to catch her, the two of them tumbling to the ground.

“And that’s another way to do it.” Sereia groaned through the burning pain in her side.

With no time to waste, Yon rolled off of her, and the two of them climbed to their feet. Sereia pressed a hand to the wound in her side, and Yon leaned most of her weight on her right foot, favoring the injured left.

There were three crabs left. Travion, blood coating his back and coursing down the side of his face from a wound in his hairline, faced off with one of them. He blocked its attacks with his own sword as it rose up on its back four legs, ready to fight but exposing its underbelly. He did not hesitate but fought his way past two legs and claws to spin inside its guard, then impaled it on his sword.

Trusting Finn to finish the one fast approaching him, Sereia headed for the third, Yon joining her. There was no need to talk. While Sereia stepped in front of it, her sword ringing against the hard shell of claws, Yon dove between its legs, positioning herself just beneath it.

With Sereia once again acting as distraction, the beady black eyes leering down at her, Yon was able to thrust one sword up into the crab’s belly and swiftly thrust the other into the beach. This acted as a prop, so when the monster crashed down, its shell struck the handle of her sword and tipped sideways, leaving Yon free to roll out from under it.

When at last the cast of crabs had been slaughtered, their large hulking forms already attracting scads of hungry gulls, the four of them stood looking sweaty, spent, and stinking of shellfish.

“I’ve never wanted to bathe so badly in my life,” Sereia muttered, sniffing at her thoroughly stained shirt.

“We could always slather you in some butter and garlic and call you a feast,” Travion taunted, breathless.

Eyeing him, Sereia shook her head. “You’ve spent too much time with your youngest brother of late, haven’t you?” Though she could admit, standing there with his auburn hair plastered to his forehead, stains of battle across his cheek, and a slightly torn shirt, she was tempted to lead him off to a bush and see them both satisfied.

Perhaps it was the after-affects of battle or the adrenaline still racing through her veins, but Sereia could never find her fill of him.

Tearing the tattered bottom of her shirt off, Sereia wrapped it around her waist, binding her wound to stem the flow of blood.