Tides of Torment (Immortal Realms Book 2)

The moment Travion saw the shark breach and heard the water cascading down over the roar of the waves, he knew the destruction of Speedwell was imminent. Relief, though fleeting, filled him, because it wouldn’t be The Saorsa’s splinters floating in the sea. And at least Sereia was safe—for now.

There was no time to spare, but with a glance in Finn’s direction, his guard knew exactly where the king was headed—to the brig. A torn expression filtered across his guard’s face, but ultimately, Finn ran toward a panicking Lefyr, grabbed him by the arm, and leaped overboard.

The last individual he saw was the captain, barking orders at his crew in a last-ditch effort to avoid the shark, but even Travion knew it was a lost cause.

Travion descended into the belly of the boat two steps at a time, his hand darting to the skeleton key swinging from his belt. “You’ll not die so peacefully, Taimon,” he growled, hastily unlocking the small cell.

“What is it? What is happening?” the other male whimpered.

“Several of your little pets have destroyed the ship and are bent on devouring us all.”

Travion considered tossing his steward into the turbulent sea, but would the shark’s teeth inflict enough pain? He brushed the thought away, knowing any punishment he ordered would be far worse.

An explosion that wasn’t cannon fire rocked the entire ship, hurling Taimon into Travion and sending them tumbling to the floor. He knew, without a doubt, that it had been one of the sharks crashing down onto the Speedwell. Without thinking, he grabbed his steward by the shirt. In the next moment, the ship rolled. Panic swelled in Travion’s chest because he knew what came next: water.

A lot of water.

“Take a deep breath—”

The sea spilled down the stairs, into the brig, and while Travion wondered how he would swim free of the ship, the wall gave way, courtesy of one of the sharks.

A spray of wood shot toward them, but the rushing water worked in their favor, for it collided with the shards, narrowly missing him and Taimon, who he still held in a death grip.

It was disorienting‌. The ship pulled him downward, but the current threatened to yank him out. Travion kicked hard, swimming toward the hole, only pausing as a gargantuan shadow passed by. The water was too dark, but thank the sea that the sun burned brightly above, showing the surface.

His lungs burned, but he knew he had to relax, that he had more than enough air to get them to the surface. But the added strain of carrying Taimon tired him.

Taimon no longer trod the water, his body an anchor, threatening to sink them.

What had he ever seen in the urchin?

From the corner of his eye, Travion saw a flash of movement and assumed it was only one of the sharks, bent on devouring him. In that moment, he regretted not confessing his love for Sereia on the plank. She’d never know how he felt, how, after all these damn years, he only wanted her.

Travion wouldn’t close his eyes on the threat. He wanted to meet it head on. Yet, as it drew nearer, he saw it was no hulking fish but a brightly colored hippocampus. Velox! He didn’t click or chirp, only swam close enough so Travion could grip onto his fins, and then his beloved beast sped through the water.

They surfaced violently, and Travion sucked in a precious breath. This time, Velox chattered to The Saorsa, his fins fanning to grab their attention.

Travion’s eyes burned from the rush of water, but as his vision cleared, he saw Sereia at the rail, hurriedly lowering a dingy.

“To the boat,” Travion said hoarsely.

The hippocampus complied, swimming close enough so Travion could hurl Taimon’s limp body into the structure then pull himself in.

Shouts rang out above. Orders, but Travion couldn’t discern what they were above the wicked waves thrashing around.

“Go now, and this time, I mean it, friend!” His words came out hoarse, which only brought on a coughing fit.

Once the dingy was level with The Saorsa’s rail, Travion yanked his steward up and shoved him toward awaiting arms. He blinked, recognizing the thickly muscled arms. “You’re alive, Finn.”

“It seems I’m as hard to kill as yourself, Your Grace.” Finn stepped back, the half-fae draped in his arms. “I’ll take him to the brig.”

Travion’s gaze flicked to the side, catching a glimpse of Lefyr, who vomited a stomach’s worth of seawater over the railing. He’d made it too.

“Here’s another!” Xiu cried out and threw down a life preserver, then hurriedly yanked on the rope. Adrik joined in, aiding their efforts.

Captain Darragh tumbled over the railing onto the deck, bleeding from his arm and gagging on seawater.

“Lefyr, quit upchucking and attend Captain Darragh!” Adrik’s voice cut through the discord around them.

Travion blinked, trying to focus through the sting in his eyes, and as the cloudiness faded a fraction, another rush of movement caught his attention.

Sereia bolted toward him, enfolding him in her arms and holding tight. “You have to stop this nonsense.”

His brow arched. “I believe I’m trying to?” But he knew what she meant from the way worry furrowed her brow and anger pinched her lips.

“I mean the almost dying part. By the sea, Travion!”

An argument brewed on the tip of his tongue, one of play, but now wasn’t the time. He could’ve easily been swallowed, torn to shreds, or drowned. He wouldn’t shame her for worrying, not when he would do the same for her.

He lifted his hand, water dripping from his sleeve to the deck. With care, he tucked a strand of hair behind her pointed ear. “I am not dead yet.” Travion’s lips twitched into a small smile, which was fleeting, because a moment later, a shark breached, sending a sizable wave toward them.

Sereia dropped her hands to her sides, glowering at the hulking creature. “We cannot slaughter them all. Our harpoons are no more than sticks, and the cannons may as well be stones!”

She was right, of course. They wouldn’t win this by normal force. Not by fire, not by harpoon. Travion’s gaze slid toward the turbulent waves, then to the clear sky. What they needed coursed through his veins—and Sereia’s too.

He turned on his heel, faced the riotous water, and sighed. “We need to work together. It’ll take everything we have, and maybe more.” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and jammed his fingers through his waterlogged hair. “Do you think you can create a whirlpool strong and large enough they cannot swim outside of its grip?”

Sereia glanced at him, her light eyes sparking with interest. “I believe so. What are you thinking?”

“Creating a harpoon worthy of them.”

Understanding washed over Sereia’s face, and she nodded. “I will give it everything I have.”

Midniva’s waters were cold, even in the summer months, but out here, near the islands, it was warmer. These sharks weren’t accustomed to frigid temperatures, and to drop so drastic would shock their system. If that wasn’t enough to stop their hearts from beating, an ice harpoon surely would be.

Sereia’s gaze trained on the rocky waves. The muscles in her jaw leaped, her hand reached out to call to the sea.

Travion squinted. In the distance, a hole formed. It wasn’t too far away, but far enough that the ship wouldn’t fall victim to the water’s rotation.

With each full spin, its force increased, pulling the Speedwell’s wreckage into the vortex. The less imposing sharks spiraled, but as Sereia continued to throw her power into the whirlpool, even the more impressive beasts couldn’t fight the pull.

Now it was his turn.

Travion looked to the sky, called to the clouds, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, as if someone had pulled a gray velvet blanket over the blue, the sun faded, and in its place, dark, heavy clouds appeared.

In turn, the water grew inky in appearance. “Sereia, ease back,” he ground out, reaching deeper into himself to call on the cold. Snow fell from the sky, dusting the railing. Little by little, the water slowed as it hardened, and Travion fought the natural elements of the sea, the salty water.

He grunted, his chest heaving with the strain. And, as time passed, the smaller sharks rose to the top of the whirlpool. With them at the surface, he summoned the cooler water, and it formed into a spike.

One by one, they impaled themselves on the ice spears.

“Where are the big ones?” Sereia’s panicked voice cut through the sound of chunks of frozen water colliding with the side of the ship.

Travion couldn’t relinquish his hold yet. “By the sea, I don’t know! Can you see them?” He searched for them. Of course it’d be the bigger bastards that went missing. Grinding his teeth together, he dragged in a greedy mouthful of air. “I have an idea. Pull the water toward us.”

Sereia whipped her head around to gawk at him. “What? With them in it?”

“Just do it,” he said through gritted teeth. “And when I say, propel us backward as far and quickly as you can.”

The two sharks breached at the same time, their cavernous mouths opening wide, as if intent on swallowing The Saorsa whole. But Travion had other ideas, for as the beasts descended, the water dispersed, and he focused on turning it to ice. Sharp, jagged icebergs jutted from the water, forming the shape of a trident.

“Push now!” he bellowed.

The Saorsa lurched forward but couldn’t avoid the tidal wave barreling toward them. Fortunately, everyone was prepared, tied down even. As the water crashed onto the deck, the force of the ship’s movement pulled the water back. The moment it splashed over the edge, back into the sea, Travion froze it, creating a free-floating barrier of shards.

Soon, the beasts descended onto the spikes, and they drove through the blubber under their jaws, piercing the tender flesh at the roof of their mouths. Blood rained down from the open wounds, and while they wriggled for a moment, they were soon lifeless.

Part of Travion expected them to stir to life once again, because that would be his luck, but when the beasts made no more movements, he sunk to the deck of the ship and leaned against the side of it. Using his ability in such a way always taxed him, and he knew his limits better than most. But Sereia . . .

She squatted beside him, exhaustion shadowing her eyes. “You can freeze the sea.”

He chuckled, head lolling back and forth. “Only a little.” Travion reached for her hand, squeezing it. “Besides, you can control the sea.”

Sereia’s legs gave out, and she leaned against him, her hand still in his grasp. “Only a little,” she retorted, then grew quiet.

Travion shook his head and closed his eyes. With his hold on the weather loosened, the sun peeked through the clouds and shone down on them. A week of sleep at this point wouldn’t be enough. He grimaced, squeezing her hand again. “What shall we face next? Surely it can’t get worse than enormous sharks.”

Sereia covered his mouth with her free hand, then pulled it away only to tap a finger to his lips. “Never say that. I wouldn’t challenge the fates.”

Travion kissed the bold finger that was intent on silencing him, then he slanted her a look. “I’m the challenging sort.”

“Don’t I know it,” she murmured.