Tides of Torment (Immortal Realms Book 2)

Somehow, in three days, Travion would ensure they arrived on Midniva’s shores. He’d been pushed harder in his youth, tested until he was certain every fiber in his being would snap, and mayhap this was why. Whether or not Ludari knew it, he had been preparing his son for a moment such as this, when his abilities would be tested to the point of breaking him.

But by the sea! Did his family need to suffer? Did his kingdom need to weather any more than it already had?

Travion clenched his teeth so hard, he thought they’d snap. Gone was the yearning to sink his fingers into the curve of Sereia’s bottom. He’d prefer that to the grating sensation in his mind, pushing and pressing him to be home. Faster, faster, faster. Even the wind seemed to groan the very thought.

There was nothing Sereia could do to soothe him, either.

She pressed a kiss to his temple and stroked the hair back from his eyes. “I’ll prepare the crew. We will be home soon, I swear it, Travion.”

Home.

A place she’d run from for so long, and now it was suddenly home. His heart soared, but before he could pick apart what she meant by it, Sereia was gone. A moment later, her voice rang out as she busied herself relaying the plan to the crew.

If it was home to her, did that mean she was willing to compromise? That she’d be willing to stay when all was said and done?

A small knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

Finn entered the captain’s quarters, his brow furrowing as it often did when he was trying to read Travion’s mood. “Your Grace.” He bowed his head. “Everyone is waiting for you topside.” When he didn’t answer, Finn trudged forward and placed his hand on his shoulder. “We will get to them in time. And when we do, whoever is responsible for this madness will pay for their crimes.” His tone was firm—as if he were vowing it.

Travion nodded. “And they will suffer greatly.” The promise of bringing the culprit to justice was enough to drive him out of the cabin and up to the deck.

The journey to Midniva wasn’t an easy one. Even the most experienced seafarers were green around the gills, including Travion. With the high wind in the sails and the sea hurtling them along faster, the ship didn’t glide through the water effortlessly. Instead, it was rough, and the ship slammed against the rising waves, jarring and bouncing the crew.

Travion sank onto a barrel, brow furrowing with exhaustion. His reserves were nearly depleted, and he desperately needed to rest.

“Your Grace, allow me to take over,” Darragh said as he strode up. His hazel eyes filled with understanding as Travion said nothing. “Beg your pardon, but you’re no good to us if you pass out.”

Travion grumbled. “Very well.” He wanted to argue, especially when they were so close, but as soon as they touched land, Travion would be leaping into battle. He relinquished his hold on the wind, and the ship jerked as it slowed, but Darragh soon took over, and the sails were filled once more.

Lefyr retched again. Since the Speedwell had sunk to its watery grave, the fae hadn’t recovered. He groaned, then wiped the corner of his mouth before glancing at the sky. Travion followed his line of sight and saw what appeared to be birds diving toward the cliffside.

His gaze dipped, and there, on the horizon, were Midniva’s shores.

Those weren’t birds plummeting from the sky. They were griffins.

A kraken, the size of The Saorsa, if not larger, climbed up the side of the cliff, dangerously close to his castle. Inky tentacles whipped through the air, lashing at the swooping griffins, and to Travion’s horror, the beast snatched one of the castle’s defenders and hurled it down the cliffside.

“By the sea!” Lefyr cried, fixated on the tentacled beast, even as it ensnared a new writhing victim and brought it to its gleaming beak. “We cannot hope to fight this abomination.”

Travion clenched his fists, and any exhaustion he may have felt before vanished as a fresh wave of adrenaline coursed through him. This was his home, his people, and these wretched creations wouldn’t destroy what belonged to them. Not while breath remained in his lungs.

“You won’t be.” Travion turned away from the scene, grinding his teeth together. “You’ll be aiding the wounded.”

Lefyr opened his mouth to argue but quickly snapped it shut. He must have sensed Travion’s alternate suggestion—fighting.

Sereia pushed her way through her crew and stopped in front of him. She cupped his face and shook her head. In part, he knew what was tumbling around in her mind. She didn’t want to leave his side, and certainly didn’t want to face the possibility that this could be their last moment together.

Travion slid his fingers through her windswept hair, committing the way her eyes blazed with anger for Midniva and concern for him. Why was it now, after all these years, they’d finally grown comfortable enough to share their vulnerabilities?

He leaned his forehead against hers. And by the sea, his chest ached with the threat of losing her. “My heart, if there is a way to come out of this alive, I will find it, and I will find you on the other side of it.”

She nodded and bit her bottom lip. “I need to stay down here, where I am suited best. But you . . .” Her gaze drifted toward the castle, and her hands slid to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a lingering kiss. “Go to your people.”

Travion reluctantly withdrew from her, then looked toward the hull. “First, I need to ensure Taimon is thrown in the dungeon where he belongs.”

Before Sereia turned away, she smiled and uttered the words, “I love you, Travion of Midniva.” And they sounded as much like a threat as they were a promise.

He couldn’t help but grin. “And I love you, Sereia Ferox.” Before he could prolong the moment, she dashed away into the throng of her crew.

Finn approached his side with Taimon in tow. Iron manacles bound his wrists and ankles. “I thought you’d want to take him with you. Otherwise, the crew here might take matters into their own hands.”

Not that they’d have time. But should anything happen to The Saorsa or its crew members, Travion didn’t want his steward escaping or dying without his say-so.

The half-fae tilted his head back to watch as a team of griffins flew overhead. A peculiar expression washed over his face, torn between horror and amazement. The latter only caused Travion’s palms to itch with the need to bash his skull in.

Nevertheless, Travion hopped onto the rail. Grabbing ahold of one of the riggings, he brought his fingers to his mouth and produced a shrill whistle.

Above, the riders glanced down, and much to Travion’s delight, he saw that one was his nephew, Ruan.

The winged creature descended, landing as lightly as it could on the deck. Clawed front feet tapped the wooden planks, and its beaked mouth opened as it released a clicking purr.

“By the sun, uncle!” Ruan bellowed as he hopped down from his mount. His dark eyes assessed Travion, then the two males at his side. The prince of war didn’t seem distressed but delighted as battle cries rang out around them. He wore a tan leather vest with thicker straps expanding over his shoulders, and on the front, a gilded chest piece with the emblem of Lucem shining on it.

He strode forward, his sandal-clad feet looking more than a touch out of place. A sneer formed on his face as he glanced at Taimon. “So, you’re the one who nearly got my uncle killed.” The surrounding air crackled with not only tension but electricity.

Travion stepped between his nephew and the captive. “It’s good to see you too, Ruan.” He moved in, embracing him, for lightning raining down on them all would do no good for anyone.

Ruan pounded Travion on the back, then withdrew. “What do you need?” He turned his hawk-like gaze on him once more.

“I need to get Taimon to the dungeon and my healer on the shore. Do you think you or another can fly us to the courtyard?”

His nephew lifted a dark brow, and he grinned. “To the dungeons, you say? I think I can help with that. And I know someone down there who will be most pleased to have your company while the sun is still up, traitor.” Ruan scowled at Taimon, who, in return, shrank all the more. He glanced over at Lefyr and nodded. “We could use another healer.”

Draven. Travion’s chest constricted. There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind that his brother would come, but there was the complication of his condition that would deter him. The sun was an obstacle even Draven couldn’t overcome.

“How long has Midniva been under attack?”

“This morning, the kraken arrived, and with it, the smaller crustaceans.” Ruan lifted his hand, signaling for a comrade to join him. A golden-maned griffin lighted onto the deck, ruffling its feathers as it squawked to Ruan’s black-maned mount. “Take the king to the courtyard. I’ll join you after I deliver this bastard to Andhera’s king.”

The armor-clad warrior bowed his head. “When you’re ready, Your Majesty.”

Finn shoved Taimon forward, and the half-fae stumbled. Ruan only watched as he fell hard against the deck.

“Be sure to tell Draven he’s allowed a little fun but to keep him alive.” With that said, Travion crossed the distance and climbed onto the back of the griffin. A moment later, it took flight.

The wind ruffled the feathers of the great beast as it rose higher and higher. Travion narrowed his eyes on the wall Kian and Eden had erected. At first glance, it just looked like a gilded structure, but when Travion took a moment, he saw the jagged thorns, rooted trees, and even blooms that had been hardened with the metal.

It was impressive, but how much longer could it hold? And who knew when the next round of creatures would emerge from the sea?

The griffin swooped over the castle, and from this vantage point, Travion saw the depths of the kraken’s mouth, the obsidian beak, oozing with venom that longed to liquefy its prey. Light gray suckers dotted along the tentacles, and as they slapped down on the ground, they adhered to whoever was unlucky enough to be within reach.

Travion gnashed his teeth together. Once more, his castle was under attack and his people were threatened.

Below, soldiers combated spider crabs and attempted to sever the kraken’s appendages. They were faring better with the crabs, as several carcasses scattered the hillside. If they all survived this, the griffins would have a grand feast after.

The rider brought the griffin down to the courtyard, and Travion quickly slid from its back.

“May you fight well and survive the day,” he murmured, and the other male lowered his head.

“And you as well, Your Majesty.” The winged beast leaped into the sky once more, joining the others.

Travion scanned the courtyard, grimacing as his gaze landed on a fallen soldier. He quickly closed the distance between them, kneeling beside the fallen male. His head was turned at an unnatural angle, and blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. His legs were snapped, twisted around, and all Travion could think was that he was one of the kraken’s victims.

“Rest well,” Travion murmured, dragging his hands down the fae’s open eyes. Frowning, his hand went to the sword still in the soldier’s scabbard. He withdrew it, and as he did, the earth rumbled beneath him in response to his growing ire.

The beast was an oversized octopus. If they could rapidly fire the cannons on its head, there was a good chance they could slay the kraken. Just like slamming the hilt of a blade down on the head to end its life . . .

But in the meantime, they’d have to keep the creature from gaining ground.

Ruan ran up beside him, spear in hand. “Draven sends his regards,” he said breathlessly.

Travion arched a brow, then peered over at his nephew. “Ruan,” he murmured, rapping his fingers along the hilt of the sword. “Do you think you could push—”

“I’ll push it back as much as I can. It’s mostly water, isn’t it?” Ruan turned his free hand over, and electricity skated across his palm, bouncing along his fingertips. “I don’t think lightning will play well with it.” Then he ran forward, leaping upward, and when he inevitably crashed down, he drove the spear into one of the tentacles reaching over the cliffside.

Before the other appendages could crash down on him, Ruan darted away, and lightning flashed and homed in on the metal rod.

His nephew could hold the ground for a little while. For now, the others battling the crustaceans needed help.