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Aryn’s shoulders hunched and he bowed his head.

“Erick . . .” she placed a hand over his. “You never told me. I’m so sorry.”

“Barron took me in after that. I was young and naïve, and he turned me into the man I am today. He helped me turn my pain into ambition, and I went out and hunted down the rebels . . . and then I found you.”

Silver lined her eyes and she squeezed his hand. She already knew the rest.

“I may have lost the love of my life . . . but I gained something so precious in you.”

Aryn sank further into the boat behind Erick.

“So, no, it wasn’t a lie, Kora.” The sternness returned to Erick’s voice, and shame rose to her cheeks. He had this entirelife, an entire history of pain and survival before her, and now he was throwing it all awayforher. “I vowed to protect you with everything I had. I cannot lose another child. So I kept the reports of the Skytors from you, afraid you would go after them in your own pursuit of revenge. Historymust notrepeat itself.”

“But you work with them. I heard you. You and Theron worked with the Skytors, and the witches.” Doubt crept into her voice. Had she imagined it?

Erick shook his head. “The odd contract here and there to serve the empire. It was a way to keep tabs on them. We couldn’t eliminate a whole group of people without just cause. It’d be suspicious, especially with the witches and their accord.”

And that’s exactly what Kora and her crew had done, but no one had raised suspicions . . . yet. Fortunately, the witches governed themselves, but any attempt to kill them would lead to catastrophic war. Ironically, that was happening regardless of the empire upholding the treaty.

Witches, rebels, Marshans . . . would all be killed in this war.

She frowned. “But—”

“As I said Kora, there’s a lot you don’t know.”

Her voice died on her lips. She’d been sheltered by Erick without realising it—and by Blake. Both working within theranks and tiers of the empire, hoarding vital information that could have changed the course of events that landed her here, as a fugitive.

Kora thought she’d been important. As the only female captain, she’d thought she was special and valued in the armada. That she’d been seen by the empire as a rising star to become the next admiral. But she wasn’t. A female pirate lord was out there—Cassidy. And Skylar, the Galenite mercenary, had wielded respect from her crew, despite their bloodthirsty intentions.

It was only the empire that oppressed females.

It dawned on her she was only favoured as the commodore’s daughter—and that’s all she ever was. She only had sway and status because of her surname—which wasn’t evenhers.She’d been used by Blake, springing him into the empire’s clutches.

She was so stupidandblind. Maybe Bree was right.

“What now?” she mumbled, forcing the words out. “What do we do now? Are we rebels?” It sickened her.

Aryn picked up the single oar with a sigh. “We survive,” he replied, and attached a sheet of metal used to patch the pinnace boat to his longbow with rope. His gaze hovered on Erick’s haunted face as he relived his past. Aryn placed the oar and longbow into the ocean and rowed them across the shimmering liquid surface in silence.

Kora twisted the piece of ripped sail, pouring blood into the ocean, before dipping it into a fresh bowl of sea water. Talmon Island was still in their sight on the distant horizon, and it made her nervous.

“It’s worse than it looks—” Erick’s voice cut off with a hiss as she continued to wipe away the dried blood on his neck.

“Don’t lie.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his face at her parroted words. The cut was thin but deep, clearly from a sword. Luckily, it’d missed the artery running down his neck.

“Get yourself one of these,” she tapped the metal collar wrapped around her throat. “Lifesaver.”

“It’s certainly a fashion statement. I’ll consider it.”

She sat back, inspecting the slash through his skin. It’d stopped bleeding, and all she could do was tend to it with sea water until it healed, to keep infection at bay. She was still unsure about revealing her power. Would Erick still love her? Would he cast her out? Would he use her, and turn her in to the Talmon Empire, gaining back their favour?

Sweat trickled down her face, causing an uncomfortable sensation beneath the metal enclosing on her windpipe. Her leathers reeked with mud, piss, and sludge from the dungeons. Erick had ripped the sleeves from the shoulders, allowing her a small reprieve from the heat.

Aryn had taken a break from rowing and was below deck, tending to his own wounds, and taking a much-needed rest. She’d splashed sea water onto her face, and partially healed her shoulder when neither male had been looking.

Despite the talisman’s absence, the pool of her power was growing, her water beast slumbering, ready to be unleashed. It was a small comfort to know she hadn’t lost this one token of strength. Maybe without her power, the talisman no longer worked. Its function obsolete without her source. Whoever stole it would be rendered with useless jewellery.