They’ve breached it.
“No!” Rasha yanks against her straps.
I force all my energy to focus on Draewulf, on weakening his abilities, as he flips around and growls.
The icy swell in me latches onto the ability in him. Slowly, steadily, I reel his darkness in, imagining I’m unspooling it toward me like a thread even as I raise my voice to speak to Eogan inside him. The Eogan who no longer exists, but maybe some part of his soul, his goodness, does. “These people have done nothing to you.” I lift a hand, willing him to come closer.
He moves toward me even as his eyes dance in mockery. “Nor did they do anything to help your people, Nym. Don’t waste your compassion on those who would care little for those not their kind.”
I lift my other hand and sense it as he steps even nearer—the strength in him is burning wild and thick. I pull it and expand the vortex now until it’s roiling like a bleeding whirlpool inside my chest, drawing in the bloodlust atmosphere, feeding off it and begging for more. His power may be stronger than mine, but I can certainly weaken him enough to take us both over the railing. And if I have to—take down the ship beneath our feet.
There’s a nudge behind me and out of nowhere, I feel the large guard. He slips something metal and cold into my hand—a knife? Then he strides away toward the dining area without looking back.
“At least Nym’s ‘kind’ are actual people,” Rasha suddenly yells.
I peer over.
She’s trying to distract Draewulf. She felt the knife too. “At least they’re not stuck inside a wolf’s body, whose only followers are created from the carcasses of dead men!”
The monster snarls through Eogan’s mouth, and before I can cut the cords, he’s cleared the last three steps and grabs Rasha. “Plucky words coming from a woman,” he rumbles. He rips through the ropes that tie her down and drags her toward the railing’s opening beside the boarding plank. And holds her there, twenty feet above a wall of rock.
I gasp. She claws and scratches and kicks, and I twist the blade in my hands and slice against the ropes, managing to cut up my fingers, which become slick with blood.
“Do you really want the Cashlin queen’s daughter’s death on your head?” I yell, working faster. “You’ll call down a hailstorm of vengeance on your own daughter.”
The rope snaps and falls away. I wipe my hands against the back of my skirt and, gripping the knife tighter, edge toward him.
Draewulf smirks at my sudden forward movement, and slips his hand down Rasha’s arm until he’s only holding her by one wrist.
“No!” I lunge for him. He slaps me backward, sending me sliding across the deck, and lets her sag farther over the side.
She carves her fingernails across his face and shoves her foot into his groin.
He doesn’t even flinch. Just smacks her with his free fist and Rasha’s head careens back, her body going limp like the yarn doll I was once allowed to play with during my stay at owner number three’s. Rasha’s eyes have nearly rolled back, but I can still see the edges of them focused on Draewulf holding her. They’re beginning to glow red.
I grip my knife just as, from the dining room behind Draewulf, Myles emerges holding a sword and strides through the crowd of staring Bron soldiers. Beside him is the large guard. Did the soldier free him too? The guard begins speaking to his men.
Then the soldiers are surrounded by a group of five wraiths descending from the captain’s quarters. The men draw their blades. I frown.
“So it’s immortality you’re after, eh?” Rasha’s airy voice floats over, and the heightened way she says it, the loudness—she’s offering it as much for my knowledge as to keep him occupied.
“Nym!” Myles points his sword toward Draewulf.
The beast whips his face toward her. “What did you say?” he snarls.
Rasha’s eyes are bright red. “You want to live forever.”
His expression goes black.
“You don’t just need their blood to regain your body, you need it for immortality. You need it because it’s tied to their land.”
Myles inches closer.
Rasha’s voice lowers. “You think you can rule forever.”
The vortex in me, which faltered when Draewulf lashed out, picks up like a low buzzing in the back of my head. I push it out toward him again and say loudly, “Immortality? Seems a bit wasteful considering you’ve destroyed everyone you’d want to be immortal with. Aside from your daughter, of course. Although I have a feeling she’s not going to survive much longer.” I smirk.