Tides of Torment (Immortal Realms Book 2)

Death was not impossible. Although it seemed that way, as many times as Travion had evaded its icy clutches. Perhaps it was the fact his brother would only scold him if he turned up in Andhera’s halls, nothing more than a wisp of chilled air. Or maybe it was that, after enduring Ludari’s punishing hands, he only wished to defy death at every turn.

Regardless, his attention was on Lefyr, and Travion wondered if the fae knew who he was. The obvious thought was yes, which brought a grumble forth.

Sereia snaked her arms around his neck, dragging him away from thoughts of Midniva, of being the king, and centered him there, in that moment. Alcohol buzzed in his veins, sea spray clung to his skin, and a beautiful female’s devilish blue eyes attempted to pierce his soul. But Travion had years of practice assembling impenetrable barriers.

Did he want to keep them up though? He supposed it was a wise thing to do, since she was bound to leave and bound to wound him grievously if he didn’t.

“My heart,” he murmured softly. The notion that Sereia would return to the farthest corners of the sea after this ordeal plagued him. Travion would return to the throne in Midniva, and he’d force himself to finally move on, to live with the knowledge that half of his soul lived elsewhere.

This would be their last time together. And he knew that.

His lips twitched, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her pointed ear.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” She brushed her knuckles along the stubble on his chin.

Travion raised his other hand, swishing the rum around. “We are running low on our alcohol stores. I’m afraid it’s a sad day.” His brow rumpled as he squinted. “I may even throw myself overboard.”

Sereia gripped the collar of his shirt. “Only if you take me with you.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a slow, demanding kiss. Her tongue grazed his, and he tasted promises of things to come.

“We are done out here,” he murmured against her lips and hauled her into his arms. She laughed, sprawling in his hold as he hauled her to the captain’s quarters. His boots clumsily slapped against the dark wooden flooring. It was a spacious room, with a dining table in the center, a desk off to the side, and on the farthest wall, a full-sized bed with a privacy curtain.

Travion set her down on the bed, her breasts heaving from laughter. By the sea, what net would capture her? But that was just it, wasn’t it? She was of the sea, and sadly, not a creature he could control. Not that he wished to.

He set the rum down on the table and knelt on the mattress, crawling toward her.

“What if Lefyr knows?” she interrupted his thoughts with the name of someone else on her lips.

Travion dashed a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, shaking his head. “What?” he asked incredulously, not because he didn’t know what she’d said but because her mind had drifted to thoughts of Lefyr instead.

“Oh good, we are on the same page. You’ll not venture off in your head, and I won’t utter someone else’s name.” She laid back on the bed, wriggling her hips.

“You better not utter someone else’s name,” he growled, crawling over her. His hands were at her waist, undoing her trousers. “But just in case, I’ll be sure to render you breathless.”

Sereia propped herself onto her elbows and glanced up at him through her eyelashes. “I’m afraid you can’t do that while talking, Your Majesty.” A devilish gleam entered her eyes, daring him to continue.

“Did we learn nothing from last time?” He arched a brow and rolled his sleeves up, then unlaced her boots, taking his time. When it came to her trousers, he dragged his knuckles down her thighs roughly until she sucked in a breath.

“I need a thorough reminder of what I should have learned from last time.”

He chuckled darkly and hooked his hands beneath her knees, dragging her to the edge of the bed. “Don’t you worry, I’ll make certain you won’t forget this time.” Travion slid his hands beneath her backside, gripping her undergarment and slowly removing it.

“You’re going to draw this out, aren’t you?” She almost whined the words, and her hips raised in want—need—of attention.

Travion kneeled before the bed, pressing his chest against the wooden frame. “How else will you learn?” But he was done with talking for now, because she was right. He couldn’t teach her if his lips were moving.

“Easily, I jus—”

He scraped his nails along the outside of her thigh, then tugged her closer so that her legs draped over his shoulders. Travion trailed heated, wet kisses along her thigh, letting his teeth scrape the tender flesh.

She sighed the moment his lips coasted to her center, and when his tongue dipped into her seam, Sereia arched into him. His hands stilled her, pressing her back down, but she wasn’t the only one reeling. The taste of her arousal hardened him, but he used it to fuel his ministrations.

“By the sea! Don’t tease me again,” she whined.

Travion chuckled and thrust his tongue into her entrance, pulsing his tongue inward only to withdraw and do it again.

Sereia moaned, fisting the blankets to keep from lifting her hips again. However, when he pulled his mouth away, she tilted her hips in search of him.

His lips circled her bundle of nerves, but then his tongue replaced them, and he brought a finger to her, teasing the sensitive flesh.

“Travion, I swear . . .” She sucked in a breath the moment he dipped one finger inside of her, then another.

With his tongue, he set a demanding pace, using quick thrusts within her to strike in a way that made her legs tremble. He grinned but continued and groaned as she clutched onto his head, driving his face forward into her.

As much as he yearned to withdraw and replace his fingers with his length, burying himself deep within her, this wasn’t about him.

Travion wanted Sereia to unravel, to lose herself in the pleasure he brought her. And the moment her fingers tugged at his hair, then loosened, he felt her muscles spasm around him.

“Trav!” Sereia rasped and rocked her hips into him as she rode herself through the waves of pleasure.

He didn’t cease his ministrations until the last waves of her climax washed over her, and only then did he withdraw. “By the sea and shore, Sereia . . .” he half chuckled and half groaned as he crawled up the length of her and hovered over her heaving form. “I hope you learned something.”

She sucked in a breath and shook her head. “You’ll no doubt have to show me again.”

And he would. Over and over again.

Travion opened his eyes, the taste of blood and mildew on his tongue. It was dark, save for a few dregs of light filtering in from a grate in the stone wall of the dungeon. His heart leaped wildly, his breathing rasping due to what was likely a broken rib.

“Don’t move,” a stern voice commanded, but in it was a hint of kindness. “He is sleeping, but not for long.” It was Draven. He reached his hand out and brushed his fingers through Travion’s matted hair. “You’re not alone, Travion. Don’t be afraid.”

But he was. So afraid. Mostly of hurting Draven, as their father ordered it, forcing them to fight, to find a weakness and exploit it.

Sandals slapped against the stone floor, alerting them to Ludari’s arrival. Their father stopped in front of their cells, a torch in his hand. Flames danced, casting harsh shadows on his chiseled face. Travion knew his cold, storm-blue eyes and his dark auburn hair that was so much like his own—like Draven’s too.

“Wake him up,” he spat at Draven. “Or I’ll do it myself.”

“Get up,” came Draven’s clipped words. Showing affection only meant it would be used against them.

Ludari unlocked their cells. Freedom teased Travion, but he knew better than to run, and his ribs wouldn’t allow it.

“Out.”

They obeyed, and while Travion stole a glance at Draven, his brother didn’t so much as blink in his direction.

“For a child, you’re resilient.” Ludari’s remark would’ve stroked the ego of anyone else, but compliments from him were vile things. “And I know we haven’t seen what you’re capable of. For whatever reason, you’re hiding it.”

He wasn’t. At least, not on purpose. He had already shown he could speak to the creatures of the sea. What more did his father want?

Ludari led the way, and they passed several cells, which held forlorn fae who were more like corpses than anything. Their clothes hung in tatters from their malnourished bodies, and their eyes, which should’ve been bright and full of life, were dull, sunken in. He stopped at a wall with chains hanging down and motioned for Draven to step forward. There was no reluctance on his part. Travion only assumed it was because of Draven’s obedience—and not that he had no will left.

While Ludari secured Draven to the wall, Travion glanced down at the water rushing into the dungeon’s trench. Light reflected off it, bouncing onto Draven’s stricken face.

“Child. Call on your magic, or your brother will pay.” Ludari moved to the wall, and to Travion’s horror, he realized there was a crank.

“No,” he whispered, eyes saucering.

“What did you just say?”

“Fuck,” Draven ground out and hung his head, twisting his hands in the restraints.

The crank shifted, tightening the chains suspending Draven to the point that pain creased his brow.

“I won’t ask again. Every moment that passes, the chains will tighten, and when you fail to call on your magic, your brother will suffer. He will die because of you.”

Panic rose like a tidal wave. Travion couldn’t think, let alone call on magic he didn’t possess! He lifted his hands and dragged them down his face.

“Stop! I can’t!” His voice cracked.

Draven bellowed in pain as his limbs were stretched beyond their limits. His teeth gnashed together, and Travion didn’t know how he hadn’t bitten through his tongue.

Ludari chuckled, cranking the handle again. “So much for brotherly love.”

Draven shook violently, his face contorting as he yelled.

Travion sunk to his knees, anger melding with hopelessness, and balled it up. Energy sizzled in his veins, rushing through him, and he drew on it as hard as he could.

“Enough!” Travion screamed.

Lightning crackled outside of the castle, and the wind howled in fury. Waves rushed through the tunnel, bursting over the lip of the trench and flooding the floor of the dungeon. Chairs slammed against the walls and iron bars of the cells from the strength of the current.

More anger coursed through Travion, spinning through him viciously. The wind grew louder, roaring until the castle quaked. No—not the castle, the very ground.

The stone floor started cracking, spider webbing until it reached Ludari’s feet.

Their father would stop now, surely, since Travion had done it. He had shown Ludari that he could do it.

Ludari only smiled coldly, like he always did. “You’re too late.” As the crank spun around again, blood sprayed Travion’s face.

He jolted awake, tumbled out of bed, and tripped over his feet, landing on his backside. “I’m not. I’m not too late. He’s alive,” Travion panted, blinking several times, attempting to fight off the dream clashing with memory.

He was in the captain’s quarters, he reminded himself, half dazed. The distant cry of the crew shouting orders as the sea rocked violently was another grounding factor. Someone was shouting close by, but his ears were ringing too loudly to decipher who it was.

Travion swallowed roughly and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the sound of his pounding heart. Then he realized someone was near, shaking him.

“Travion! By the sea!” Sereia cursed, slapping his cheek, then cupped his face. “Trav? What is wrong? Talk to me.”

In their time together, he had done well to dance around his past because Travion didn’t want Sereia’s pity. But with the rawness of what had transpired in the depths all those centuries ago, he pulled her into him and buried his nose in her hair.

“I have not told you . . .” His voice broke, and he closed his eyes, inhaling her scent—fresh air and salt water—to will the stench of his cell away.

Of course, in part, she knew Ludari’s transgressions, as any fae did. But the extent of the scars Ludari left on each of his sons was unknown.

Sereia remained in his arms for a time, then pulled back and gently stroked his back. “Come back to bed and tell me,” she said quietly.

And for once, he did. He followed her into bed and wrapped his arms around her, needing to know she was real and not a trace of another nightmare rising. “Ludari sired us, but he was no father.” Travion sucked in a ragged breath. It didn’t matter how many times he blinked or rubbed at his eyes, the images still flickered in his head as if they’d just happened. “Draven was taken to the dungeons long before I was born, but when I was eight, the old bastard found me playing with the fish in our pond. He realized my powers were taking shape and studied me for months before whisking me away to the depths of the palace.” Travion shook with a mixture of rage and fear. “He pitted us against one another, testing our weaknesses and our strengths in the worst ways. So many times, I wished I’d die, not only to end my suffering but Draven’s as well.” Travion laughed bitterly. “But when my little brother was born, I knew I couldn’t let him endure this, and Draven would never allow it. He did his best to shield me, and I him.” Travion sucked in a ragged breath, recounting the numerous nightmares that had been his reality.

Sereia was quiet at first, then she cupped his face and leaned her forehead against his. “If Ludari was not dead already, I’d gut him myself.”

The sun peeked through the small windows in the captain’s quarters, and from looks of the port coming into view, they were just sailing into Sahille’s harbor.

Travion had hardly slept after the dreadful night terror, and although Sereia’s body eventually stilled beside him, she hadn’t fallen asleep either. He’d felt her muscles tense and refuse to relax.

He rolled out of bed, padding over to the wash basin, and splashed water on his face, not daring to glance at his reflection in the mirror. Someone pounded on the door, and it opened moments later.

Sereia grumbled from the corner of the cabin and pulled her shirt down.

Finn poked his head in through the door, carefully scanning the area to ensure he wasn’t intruding on a moment. Although it hadn’t stopped him before.

“Your Grace.” Finn’s voice shook ever so slightly, and the stricken expression on his face said it all.

“What is wrong?” Travion was already picking a fresh shirt up to yank over his head.

“There is a spider crab rampaging through what is left of Sahille.” Finn swallowed roughly.

“By the sea!” Sereia yanked her boots on and headed toward the door. “Still?”

They knew from reports that Sahille had been ravaged, but never did he think that the beast would still be at it. Travion finished dressing and shared a look with Sereia. In the depths of her gaze, he saw his thoughts reflected there. How much worse could it be?

A dangerous thought, for certain.

He grabbed his sword and secured it to his trousers as he hopped up the stairs. At the top, he was immediately faced with the crew staring at the dock. His heart plummeted to his stomach.

The crabs on Saventi’s beach were nothing in comparison to the beast before them. Legs as tall as a cedar tree, body as wide as the ship.

More than that, the entire port had been destroyed. Beachside huts had been reduced to rubble, and smoke billowed from the sand. Barrels, no doubt filled with whale oil, had been rolled out.

The villagers had half-fought a battle, but it was far from over.

“By the sea!” Travion cried in unison with Sereia.

“Push the ship dockside! Use your bloody affinity. We need to get to land!” Travion growled above the sound of the whipping wind.

Darragh complied, but amid barking orders, he paused. “Your Grace, surely you’re not thinking of—”

“And let this port suffer more? Get us to that dock, now.”

Wind filled the sails, and the sea lurched as those with water affinity aided too. Although it took mere minutes, it felt longer.

Travion grabbed a mooring line, securing the ship in place, and Sereia and Finn made quick work of the lines too. When it was tight enough, Travion moved the gangway into place and quickly strode across.

The crab was missing a leg on the left side, and a pincer claw on the right.

Travion glanced over his shoulder as Finn, Yon, and Adrik hopped onto the dock. “Attack the joints on the legs, and if you have an open shot to the mouth, take it. At that size, the underbelly is going to be hard too.” He looked to Darragh and jerked his head toward a barrel with extra rope on it. “Hand over that rope. If we can cut enough limbs off, we can flip it over and impale it. When the threat is gone, send Lefyr ashore. I think he’s still sleeping.”

Finn took the rope, shouldering the thinner cord. “Isn’t he the lucky one?”

“Not for much longer,” Sereia offered.

“He’s going to need all that rest and then some if this is anything to go by.” Without another word, Travion turned on his heel and ran toward the merchant storefronts, where the beast was still shuffling around, focused on something—or someone—in the ruins.

They needed to lure it away, toward the water. The crab was too close to the establishments. “Finn,” Travion shouted. “It’s your turn to act as bait.”

Finn swore but unraveled the rope from his shoulder. “Whatever you’re thinking, be quick about it, Your Grace.”

“Get its attention, we need to get it as close to the beach as we can.” Travion unsheathed his sword as he jogged toward the beach. Adrik and Sereia were on his heels, but Yon remained closer to Finn.

“What exactly is your plan, Trav?” Sereia finally asked.

“Finn can hold his own for a while. But he needs to lead the crab back here so I can create a sinkhole. By dropping the beast, we can cut off its legs. This one isn’t the same as Saventi’s horde.” Sweat trickled down his brow from adrenaline coursing through him. He shook his sword arm and watched as Finn created a loop with the rope. When it caught on a needle-like leg, he pulled.

Immediately, the crab spun around, facing Finn and ultimately them too. Rocks vibrated around the area, leaping across the sandy soil before hurling directly at the crustacean.

Travion had only seen Finn use his affinity a handful of times, but it always made sense that he could manipulate something as large and powerful as him.

One of the bigger stones collided into a lower leg, snapping it off. The crab stumbled but regained its balance. A hiss, sounding more like a growl, emitted from the beast as it focused on Finn and quickened toward him. He dropped the rope by the dock and ran, zig-zagging in hopes of dodging the pounding, sharp limbs as they crashed to the ground with every stride.

“Do whatever you’re going to do now!” Finn bellowed as he raced past them.

“Oh, sh—” Adrik never got to finish because one of the legs towered over them, intent on impaling one if not all of them.

Travion reached for the earth with his mind, clung to the strands that whispered by him. One mental tug was all it took to pull the earth out from under the crab. It toppled in awkwardly, long, spindly limbs jutting out of the hole and flailing, hoping to find purchase.

“Now!” More sweat trickled down his brow from the exertion of his affinity. He darted forward, striking down on one of the weak spots. His sword bit into the meaty sinew, and in turn, the hissing from the crab only grew louder.

With only a few legs left, the crab pulled itself up. The pincers near its mouth opened, revealing tusk-like teeth. Unable to balance on the loss of legs, it teetered forward.

“Get out of the way!” Sereia screamed.

Travion bolted to the side, but as the crab collapsed to the ground, one of the spikes from its shell pinned him down by the very edge of his shirt. He wheezed, facedown in the sand, and grimaced.

Sereia rushed to his side and yanked his shirt free. “Travion! Are you okay?”

“Just had the wind knocked out of me,” he said in between sucking in a breath. He peered over his shoulder and caught sight of Adrik approaching the crustacean.

Adrik rammed his sword into the crab’s mouth, twisting until a loud pop sounded. Whatever tension remained in the beast’s body fled.

“Is everyone okay?” With a quick glance over at Yon and Finn, he didn’t see any visible injuries.

“All’s well,” Finn said, but his face, which had been cherry-red moments ago, was steadily paling. He stared at the shoreline, his brow furrowing. “Your Grace.”

A seahawk flew above, diving down to chase off seagulls and ravens that were picking apart its meal. To Travion’s horror, the birds were feasting on the dead of Sahille.

“Get off!” Travion bellowed, rushing to his feet and running closer. He stopped only a few yards away, but even from here, he could see the flies buzzing around. The man’s eyes had long since been plucked from their sockets, and his throat’s flesh had been ripped away. There was a massive hole in his chest from where a leg had no doubt impaled him.

His knees threatened to buckle. All these people were dead because of the blasted book. The town now so drenched in the reek of death. All because the book had been stolen.

“Finn, grab Lefyr and the remainder of the crew. We need to see if there are any survivors in the area,” he bellowed.

“And everyone else, spread out, see what everyone needs!” When they didn’t move fast enough, Sereia hissed. “Now!” She raced down the beach, but Travion’s attention was on the tree line not far from them. Perhaps the treacherous individual was hiding in the woods, orchestrating the madness.

Travion traipsed through the overgrowth, surveying the area. He spotted a trail a blood that hadn’t coagulated yet.

Someone whimpered nearby.

He narrowed his eyes as he stepped further into the woods, following the trail until he reached a gathering of bushes.

Heart pounding in his ears, Travion moved the branches aside. A fallen man lay sprawled out, bleeding from his chest and side. Behind him crouched a sobbing boy. His tawny hair was slicked back with blood, but it didn’t seem to be his. Travion didn’t see any wounds on him, but the older man—his leg had been shredded, and one arm was missing.

“Boy,” Travion said gently. “It’s all right.” He held out his hand as if speaking to a cornered animal. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, hating how many times he had said those same words as of late.

“He tried to stop him!” the boy said, sucking in a breath. “There was someone with a book, speaking strange words. Every time he did, something grew. My father and some other man attacked . . .” He rocked back and forth, holding his arms. “The other man got away, not my father . . . Not my father.”

Frowning, Travion rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he offered again. “Did you see where the person went?”

“East, I think.”

Travion nodded solemnly. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Radomir.”

“Tell me something, Radomir, what color hair did this person have?”

Radomir’s hazel eyes flicked to his father and then back up to Travion. “Red as my father’s blood.”

Travion sucked in his bottom lip. At least that detail had been holding up through the various witnesses. Now they just needed to find the fae and bring them to justice. “Thank you. Let me help you carry him out. There is no need to worry about the crab any longer. It’s time to honor the fallen.” He slid his arms beneath the man’s legs and dipped his head down. “When you’re ready . . .”

Together, they carried the boy’s father out, and by the time they’d reached the beach once again, the entire crew of Speedwell was present.

Travion enlisted the aid of everyone aboard the Speedwell to pitch in, clean up the streets, extinguish fires, and move the bodies indoors. But when everything was said and done, the monstrous crab’s corpse still served as a hideous reminder of what was lost.

Sereia slid her arm around Travion’s waist, leaning into him. “Are we to leave it for the birds and other scavengers?”

He shook his head. “No. It’ll only haunt the locals.”

“So, what then—tie it to the ship and pull it out to sea?”

“Close, but I have a better idea.” He jerked his head toward the water. “Call on the sea and haul the beast out. It’ll cleanse the land in the process.” And deposit some fresh seaweed and other critters for the gulls to snack on instead of the monumental crab.

Sereia nodded in understanding, then closed her eyes as she reached for the sea. Little by little, the waves grew larger, until a tidal wave formed at the shore, rising and rising until it darted forward. It didn’t crash and disperse as a natural occurrence would but kept its shape. The water swirled around the carcass until it was entirely covered, then as it receded, it yanked the crustacean with it.

She was a force to be reckoned with. Unfettered, fierce, and courageous.

And by the sea, did he love her for all of that and more.

His lips twitched into a small smile. “Now, that was a lot easier, don’t you agree?”

“Says the one not breaking a sweat.” She sucked in a deep breath and used her sleeve to wipe away the trickle of sweat running down her temple.

“Somehow, I don’t think the villagers would appreciate an earthquake or cyclone. I have a feeling both of our affinities will be put to the test sooner rather than later.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he turned away from the shore. “Let’s head back to the ship. I need to call on Draven and Zryan. They need to know about this destruction.”