Page 6 of A Queen This Fierce and Deadly

The fact that she was breathing was a miracle itself, given the way she’d lain so pale and unmoving in that skiff. My stomach swam, and I took a long, slow breath of the salty air to clear my head.

Daharak had given Lorian and Prisca a cabin near her own. Lorian refused to leave Prisca’s side. Anyone wanting to check on her was forced to also interact with her crazed mate. Even the fae king had attempted to talk to Lorian multiple times, only to be turned away. I’d peered into her room once when Lorian had fallen asleep with his head angled on the bed next to her, and her face at least had regained some of the color it had lost.

The barrier was down. The moment it fell, Regner had somehow managed to sink Prisca and Lorian’s ship.Most of the pirates on that ship had died. Telean had only managed to survive because one of them had kept hold of her, refusing to allow her to drown.

But Prisca’s aunt was currently walking around with a strange look on her face. As if something had gone terribly wrong and she couldn’t quite determine what it was.

The rest of us were celebrating. Eryndan was dead, and Regner had been forced to retreat as the humans were filled with a surge of power from the barrier. Rumors from the city reported that humans across Eprotha were suddenly able to do more with their magic than they’d ever dreamed.

Daharak strolled across the deck toward me. She walked with her usual swagger, but her mouth was tight. “I thought I’d find you here. Lorian wants to see you.”

“Is Prisca awake?”

“No.”

Panic bit at me. “She shouldn’t still be unconscious. What do the healers say?”

“There’s no physical reason for her to not wake up. Her ribs are healed, and her lungs have no damage. One of my people scanned her for magic. Ceri just checked her again, and she says Prisca’s power is depleted or suppressed to such an extent, it is as if it is no longer there.”

I turned my gaze to the ocean. The kind of power the woman she called Ceri had wielded was rare. Rare enough that if not for her life as a pirate, she might have been called to work as one of Regner’s assessors. And yet she used her gift to heal.

“Prisca drained her power during the battle,” I said. “Just as we all did. But this kind of response doesn’t make sense.”

Daharak sighed. “Who knows what is normal with her kind of power? I’ve certainly never seen anything like it.” When I directed my gaze back to her, she’d turned to look at the sea, toward the horizon where the barrier no longer kept us trapped on this continent.

“You’re already planning your next move,” I murmured.

“Regner was forced to flee. His alliance with Gromalia is currently no more—at least until Rekja decides who to trust. And with the barrier down, I can make my own plans.”

“Is this about the weapon you’ve been careful not to mention since the day Prisca rescued your ships?”

The pirate queen had been remarkably closed-mouthed about the weapon she’d chased for years. Now that she finally had it, I couldn’t help but wonderwhoshe was planning to decimate with it.

She slid me an amused look. “I have enemies of my own. And with the barrier down, I’m no longer trapped here.”

“Just as long as you don’t forget to take me with you when you leave this continent.”

Daharak Rostamir seemed like a woman of her word. But still…I wouldn’t risk losing my chance to get off this continent.

She studied my face. Her eyes were shrewd, and I kept my expression blank. “You haven’t changed your mind.”

“No. And I won’t.”

“I can respect that. I won’t forget to take you.”

I nodded to her, even as my gut untwisted. I would have to trust the pirate queen. Trust had never come easily to me, but if the fae were willing to trust her, I could likely do the same. “I need to see what Lorian wants.”

The cacophony of the deck began to fade as I left Daharak gazing dreamily into the distance and headed toward Prisca and Lorian’s cabin. With every step, the noise was replaced by an unsettling silence that thickened the air. The ambient sounds of the ship became muted, as if the world itself was wary of what lay beyond that cabin door.

I made eye contact with Marth, who nodded to me as he stepped out of his own cabin. Like many of us, he’d turned grim. But it was especially jarring from a man who had once encompassed the opposite of the word. “Good luck,” he told me.

I frowned at him, but the air seemed to grow heavier and even more oppressive as I approached Lorian’s cabin. Apprehension coiled in my stomach, and I shook it off, throwing open the door.

He turned his head, and I had one second of eye contact with blazing green eyes before I dropped my gaze.

This wasn’t Lorian.

This was the Bloodthirsty Prince.

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