Page 116 of Beneath the Veil of Tides
Throk’nawan laughed, a cruel vicious sound to our ears as Jun gave what little he had left in his reserve of power. He shook under the weight of her life, fingers pressed uselessly against the wound that no longer answered him. He tried anyway, but there was nothing to heal anymore.
Jun’s strength gave out all at once, and he sank into the sludge beside her, shaking too hard to stand.
The godsire turned on his heel and paced before his son.
I fumbled to turn around in the mud, and my heart fell further at the expression etching into Noctis’s face. Our bond trembled, not from anger or rage… but from fear.
“Youwillkill the Ocean Mother. Then, you will report back tome. You are weak, and you will not disgrace me with your chosen company,” Throk’nawan spat at his son, his arm outstretching to display a show of power. A globe of white flickering light grew in his palms.
“They are my family,” Noctis attempted to respond, but the words shook. He fidgeted with the blade in his hand. His father caught the movement and chuckled.
“Even after all these years, son, you’re still afraid of me?” he chided. “Excellent. I’ve done precisely what I’ve needed. Now go.”
Noctis shook his head. “No.”
Raveeka snuck up behind me, breaking from the battle below. “Should I kill him?” she asked quietly.
“I want him to suffer,” I seethed, rage burning me from the inside out. Just a little bit longer. It was all we needed.
Throk’nawan continued in Noctis’s face. “You were trained from the moment you were born for this,” he spat angrily. “Your mother was soft just like you.”
“Don’t speak of her.” Noctis tried to be brave. He desperately clung to an illusion of confidence, but it fell flat.
“I ensured it was agonizingly slow when I killed her,” his father drawled, enjoying every word. “And making you watch was the best part. It was supposed to make you stronger. But evenshemade you weak.”
I tried to send comfort down the bond but was met with a solid blockade.
Noctis lunged, his footwork tripping. He slashed his long sword at the neck of his father, but it abruptly froze inches from his throat.
“You never learn, son,” Throk’nawan spat. “How many times have you attempted that same strike and failed?”
Rage simmered beneath my skin, prickling every nerve ending.
Noctis fell to his knees, his face scrunched in agony under his father’s powers. Calvin whimpered at my back. Each small cry fueled me further.
Throk’nawan lifted his blade over his head. It glowed a luminous ruby, reflecting off the water droplets that crash around them.
Noctis’s head dropped in realization. In defeat.
The coin, he begged me in my mind. He wanted me to sever our bond, because he was accepting death.
But I would never allow it.
A sickening roar from the godsire ripped through the skies, thunder accompanying it. Lightning flared in everydirection like disoriented chaos. Instead of a strike to kill Noctis, Throk’nawan’s massive wings crashed to the ground, completely sliced off, blood spraying from his back.
I conducted the rain droplets, forming them into a long blade. The godsire collapsed knee first into the ground, breaths labored as he held up his feathery appendages that did not move to his will anymore. His pained eyes burned into me, but vengeance would be beautiful.
Each tiny droplet of water in the sky became a needle, and I shoved them deep within his skin, earning an agonizing scream. I would make it slow for him. I would ensure he knew pain and who it came from. But I would not kill him.
That was an honor only Rhak’torvain––God of Aetherkin Bound––deserved.
He gurgled against the water I shoved down his throat, raking his fingers against his neck at the lack of air. But I held firm. I released the power just enough for him to get a sip of a breath—just enough to keep him alive—and then filled his mouth and lungs back with icy water. He would pay. For Zahara. For leading the Terraguard armies in a war for dominion over my Bound. For hurting my Noctis. He was unworthy of the blood coursing through our veins.
Noctis stood with confidence and stared at his father, the blade casually twisting in his palm.
“Secure him,” he ordered Raveeka, and she obliged. Tendrils of power flitted from the trident at her will, surrounding the godsire. He jumped to his feet, ready to fight back.
“Still,” Raveeka said, and Throk’nawan obeyed. His eyes did not follow direction, however, as they looked between each member of the crew in fury.
