Tides of Torment (Immortal Realms Book 2)
Tides of Torment: Chapter 8

Giant tentacles shot from the water and wrapped around the center of The Saorsa. The pressure against the mainmast sent it careening down. Batteo was unable to escape the fall and lay pinned beneath the weight of it.

“Kill it!” Sereia screamed.

With a jerk, Sereia sat up in bed, panting as her heart raced. Lifting a hand to press against her chest, she forced a slow inhale and then an even slower exhale.

A dream.

It had been nothing but a dream.

After an afternoon of sparring with Yon to make up for their missed morning sessions on the ship, Sereia had spent the night with Travion. Neither of them had felt much like talking. She had collapsed into bed and expected to sleep soundly.

But the kraken would not leave her be.

“Sereia?” Travion murmured. “Are you okay?”

She dropped her hand back down to her lap and released one final steadying breath. “I’m fine, it was simply a dream.”

“I’ve never known you to have nightmares before.”

She snorted and shook her head. She didn’t typically have them, not that he truly knew. A few nights shared here and there over the last century did not leave much time for either of them to know what was or was not normal.

“I’ve seen a few more things since the last time we shared a bed.”

Travion sat up and leaned back against the headboard. While she didn’t glance back at him, she could feel his eyes on her in the early morning sunlight. Glancing out the window, she could tell that it was just past dawn. Fishermen would be heading out on the water, gulls beginning their circling movements on the lookout for any scraps available. The world was waking up, but so too was the darkness of death that was creeping over the waters.

“What exactly happened with the kraken?” he pressed.

She wanted to curse him. Both because he had read her correctly and because he seemed intent on forcing it out of her. Why did he need to know? This wasn’t what they did.

Sereia looked down at her hands, clenching and then unclenching her fingers, remembering them wrapped around her spyglass, watching the horrors unfold. She pressed her lips tightly together against the flood of words that fought to come out. It was the press of his hand against her lower back that released them at last.

“We were in the midst of a battle against two merchant ships when the largest tentacles I had ever seen just appeared out of nowhere and wrapped around the bow of Ackazanti. The chaos . . . The screams . . .” She shook her head as it washed over her once more. “There was nothing any of them could do. Nothing we could do. All of us shot cannons at the beast, trying to take it down, but it simply crawled onto the ship until it cracked it in half.” A shudder went through her as she recalled watching the monster feast on one of the men aboard.

Travion didn’t say anything. Instead, his arm slipped around her waist, and he pulled her in against his side.

There had always been a comfort in his arms, tucked away securely in his bed. The moments when she allowed herself this pleasure had been few and far between over the past century. Not because she didn’t want to be here but because she wanted it too much. When she lay here, his hands on her body and his lips trailing kisses over her skin, it was easy to forget the sea and its very particular hold on her. He made her contemplate coming back and finally giving in.

But how long would it last? How long before the salty breeze tangling in her hair or the splash of a wave on her feet called to her so fiercely, she couldn’t stand to ignore it? What would happen then, if she were settled into a life here with Travion? How could she abandon him if she had promised to stay, and how long would it take for her soul to wither away once she ignored that call?

This comfort, however, was something new altogether. This went beyond physical pleasure and a sense of peace in his arms. This felt like solace for her soul, and it struck her deeply.

“It came for us next, rocking the ship from below, and I knew that there was only so much time before we were wrapped up in its tentacles as well.” Sereia brushed a hand over her face, fighting against the anguish of that moment as it all rushed back.

“How did you get away?”

“It didn’t fully latch on, and we were able to separate its tentacles from us and flee. But the other ship—” She cut herself off, hating how cowardly she’d been. No one else should have died that day.

“It took them down as well.” It wasn’t a question, simply an understanding.

“Yes. We went back for survivors, but there was barely anyone left.”

“You did what you needed to do to protect your ship and your crew. Any captain would have made the same decision.”

Perhaps, but it didn’t help with the guilt that gnawed inside her chest. She didn’t want to focus on it any longer, nor speak on the matter further. Instead, she turned to press her lips to Travion’s, silencing him before anything else could be said. He did not hesitate, recognizing her need to wash away the thoughts clogging her mind, and their hands found each other beneath the covers. With a growl, Sereia rolled herself into Travion’s lap, straddling him.

Their kisses grew more heated, and Sereia scraped her hands down over his chest, paying reverence to muscle and scarring alike. He was alive and whole, and she would delight in every aspect of that. Purposefully, her hips rocked over the hardening length beneath her, and she moaned happily as it parted her to brush against her nub, causing a shiver of pleasure to course through her.

Travion’s hands were on her bottom, clutching the cheeks tightly as he dipped his head to brush his lips along one full breast.

A heavy knock sounded at the door, and both of them groaned as Finn’s voice sounded from the other side of it.

“Come in,” Travion grumbled.

As the door opened, Sereia looked over her shoulder to see Travion’s mountain of a captain standing in the doorframe, attempting to look somewhere over her head rather than directly at her. Smirking, she dropped back down to the bed, drawing the sheet up over her chest.

“Finn, someone had best be dead,” Travion growled, moving his arm to rest between his head and the headboard. He looked glorious in the early morning sunlight. Bare chested with bedding slung low over his hips, with his auburn hair mussed from her fingers. Sereia felt a rising desire to have her hands on him once more and slanted a less-than-favorable look in Finn’s direction.

“Actually, Your Grace . . .”

Travion instantly sobered and sat up. “Who?”

“Word just came in by seahawk. The entire scouting fleet has gone down, and Admiral Callahan and his crew are believed lost,” the captain announced solemnly.

Beside her, Travion cursed harshly. “Call my council to the strategy room, we’ll be there shortly,” he demanded of Captain Finn, who nodded and left.

Travion glanced over at her, a pained look on his face.

“We?” Sereia asked.

“You have firsthand experience with these beasts, and we could use your insight.”

Sereia nodded and, leaning in, she pressed a firm kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry about your fleet.”

“As am I.”

Without another word, they both climbed from the bed, and while Travion dressed in fresh clothes, Sereia plucked her dress from the day before up off the floor. Now was not the time to be concerned about wearing a dress two days in a row.

Dressed, she gathered her hair at the top of her head and wound it up in a warrior’s knot, something Yon had taught her for emergencies.

Together, they left Travion’s quarters, leaving the wing entirely to head to the opposite side of the castle, where his study and strategy room were located.

Three men already sat waiting for them, with Finn standing at attention in the corner. On the long oval table at the center of the room lay a map of the entire middle realm, with Midniva fully sketched out, as well as Tribonik to the northwest, and Caifu to the northeast. At the top of the map, bold letters declared the portal into Torksvala.

“Sereia, this is General Quillan, Lord Tywil, and my steward Taimon.” He motioned to each as he spoke. “Gentleman, this is Captain Ferox.”

Sereia nodded as she came to stand at the table, looking down at the map.

“Lady Sereia Ferox?” Lord Tywil asked, eyeing her closely. Sereia could only assume he was aware of her parents and her absolute abandonment of all her daughterly duties.

“Captain Sereia Ferox,” she corrected him, staring him down until he was forced to look away.

“For those of you who have not heard, word was sent of an attack, and it is believed that Admiral Callahan and his fleet have been lost.”

There were curses around the table.

“Do we know where?” General Quillan asked.

“When I spoke to Admiral Callahan yesterday morning, they were three days off the coast of Novgor.” Travion picked up a small ship from the map and moved it to just off the coast of Tribonik, along the tip closest to Midniva. “Where did you encounter the kraken, Sereia?”

Plucking up another ship, Sereia scanned the upper east coast of Tribonik and then placed it down on the correct location. “Approximately here. We were on our way back from Caifu when we ran across a small mercantile fleet in distress.” Better to talk of them being in distress than to admit her pirating acts to a group of high-tier nobles.

Travion shot a quick glance toward her but did not correct the lie.

“The one possessing The Creaturae has traveled a great distance,” Lord Tywill muttered.

“And how long ago was your battle with the kraken?” Travion asked, studying the map.

“Almost two and a half weeks. We harbored in Bezopasnyy overnight following the attack, then headed here the next morning.”

“So, the kraken isn’t traveling exceptionally quickly, but it is heading in our direction,” General Quillan stated.

“Which means we have time before it reaches our shores, but not much.” Travion ran a hand through his hair.

“I know you’ve mentioned that this Creaturae possesses creation and destruction magic, but how ultimate of a power are we talking about?” Sereia asked, needing a true picture of just what was out there.

Travion sighed as his eyes met hers. “Once my father came into possession of the book, he used its spells to create the veils between the middle realms, linking all three together. And from what Zryan has told us, he created an entirely new realm for Torksvala to exist in because he found the Torks too powerful an adversary.”

Sereia swore softly under her breath, a chill coursing down her spine. The kraken was nothing compared to what this book could do. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“It is a power we must control once again,” Quillan said. “At any cost.”

Travion glared down at the map, and Sereia studied his face. “What are you thinking, Travion?”

He didn’t answer right away. His blue eyes remained on the map spread out before them in a contemplative way.

“We’ve lost too many men to this already. I cannot ask more to go out alone.” Finally, his eyes left the map, and he surveyed his council before looking at her. “It’s time I set out myself to see what this is about.”

A muscle in Sereia’s jaw flexed. It was standard Travion to settle on running into the oncoming danger himself. But who would keep the fool from winding up dead this time?

“If that is the case, then you’ll sail on The Saorsa.”

“What?” Lord Tywill sputtered, and in the corner, Finn shifted uneasily on his feet.

Sereia chose to ignore him and kept her eyes on Travion.

Travion’s brow shot up. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, no. I will take my own ships.”

“With half the fleet lost, we may only be able to spare one. The rest will need to remain here and protect our coastline,” Quillan interjected.

Sereia motioned to him. “One ship is not enough. One ship manned by a crew that has not faced such atrocities. Your admiral could not even escape these things. I am the only one standing here who has actual experience facing off with this kraken. If anyone has a chance of doing it again and coming out the other side, it is my crew and me,” Sereia shot back.

“She has a point,” Finn quipped, and Sereia shot him a quick look and nod of gratitude.

“Ignoring my captain, Sereia, this is not your fight.”

“Your Majesty,” Quillan began, but Travion raised a hand to silence him.

Her teeth clenched against the swell of curse words that wanted to spew from her mouth. “This is as much my fight as it is yours.”

“A pirate does not have the same fight as a king. Nor does that make you fit to wage battle.”

The world was awash in red, and Sereia clenched her hand into a fist so that she would not strike him. “A pirate I may be, but a pirate who has spent a century out on that water, living through every storm and leaving every battle brought to me a victor. Don’t tell me I am not fit to fight this battle. It was mine before it was yours, and Midniva is my home too.”

He snorted. “Your home? Is that so?”

This felt like a fight that was becoming about more than just the battle at hand. “Yes, my home, and I have every right to wish to defend and protect her.”

Her parents were still here. And her four sisters, their husbands and children. While they weren’t a part of her life, this was where they lived, and Sereia would fight to protect them if she could.

She also couldn’t bear to let Travion walk into the battle alone and not come out of it alive. “This is what I do Travion. This is my life. You need me and my crew.”

“We are down ships . . .” Quillan reminded the room once more.

Sereia’s gaze locked onto Travion’s in a firm stare that neither was willing to break from. Silence filled the room as everyone waited. It took Finn clearing his throat for the two of them to break eye contact.

“Very well,” Travion grunted reluctantly. “We will take The Saorsa, but also one of our fully armed battleships.”

She waved him off but didn’t argue the point. Let him have his backup if he felt the need of it. Sereia knew what The Saorsa and her crew were capable of, and he would come to see for himself.

“Let the captain of HMS Speedwell know to prepare to set sail. The ship should be ready to leave port first thing tomorrow morning.”

The men in the room nodded and began to stand.

“Your Majesty,” Taimon finally spoke up. “Will Prince Kian be here in your stead?”

“Yes, I will notify my nephew personally.”

When the room was cleared, Travion’s arm moved around Sereia’s waist to pull her in against him. “While I appreciate your aid, this truly isn’t your battle. You don’t have to join in on the hunt.”

Sereia pressed her hands to his chest, leaning her hips into his as she quirked a brow. Had they not already discussed this? “Are you jesting? You are about to head out on the open water . . . into my world, and you think I would choose not to be there at your side for it?” She shook her head. “There is no place I would rather be right now than facing off against some monstrous beast on the open sea with you.”

And it was the truth. While she had not lied when she said she wished to fight for Midniva, there was another part of her that also wanted Travion there on the water with her. To be able at long last to share this part of herself with him. Everyone questioned why she had left; let him see it for himself.

Their lips met once more, and her arms slid up and around his neck. It was a firm kiss, filled with the frustrations of their argument, the unrelenting wills inside both of them that did not wish to give in. It would be easy to lose herself in this moment with him. To chase the residue of anger and work it out with their bodies. To let the feel of his warm hands brushing over her curves and the eager way he met each brush of her tongue with his own soothe the snarling creature inside her. Sereia wished there were more time to hide away in his chambers here at the castle and forget the outside world.

But that was never their lot in life, and there was a battle brewing.

Pulling away from him, Sereia allowed her lips to stay within a whisper of his own. “If we are to leave at dawn, I should return to Mointeach. I have to round up my crew and break the news to them that their shore leave is being cut short once again.”

Travion nodded.

“Try not to miss me too much until tomorrow?” Winking at him, Sereia left the strategy room to fetch Yon.

The Saorsa sat bobbing lightly on the water, her scarlet sails a bright contrast against the blue sky above. Sereia walked down the wharf with Yon at her side and could hear a bawdy tune being sung somewhere on her ship’s deck.

As her footsteps sounded on the gangway, the song faltered, and Batteo’s head popped up over the railing to see who was approaching.

“Captain!” he sputtered in surprise.

“Quite the lurid tune you were singing, I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”

He didn’t look shamefaced but grinned proudly. “Learned it last night.”

Sereia stepped onto the main deck and cast an eye around her ship. Everything looked pristine and taken care of. There was a mop in Batteo’s hand, and it appeared he was working his way across the ship. “Glad to hear you’re making use of your time in Mointeach.”

“Aye, Captain.” He chuckled.

“Where is Adrik?”

“On shore. Think there’s an issue with our jerky stores.”

Sereia nodded and turned to Yon. “Locate Adrik, and between the two of you, track down the rest of the crew. I need to speak to them all.”

In the end, it took nearly an hour for the crew to be rounded up and returned to the ship. While she waited, Sereia had changed into clean clothes and prepared a map of the seas to begin plotting her own path back to Tribonik.

When at last they were all gathered on the main deck, Sereia surveyed their faces. Several seemed rather hungover, or perhaps close to being done for already. They were a rowdy group and desperately loved a bottomless tankard of ale when it could be found.

Their current state would have to do.

“I’ve gathered you all together to inform you that we set sail once more at dawn.” A loud protest rose up, and she had to lift her hand to silence them. “I know we haven’t had much rest between Bezopaznyy and here, but it cannot be helped. The kingdom of Midniva is in peril, and we have been asked to join in on the hunt for sea monsters.”

“What?” Surprised, Adrik, now at her side, turned to look at her.

“You can’t be serious, Captain. We’ve just escaped it!” another shouted from the back. One of her boatswains.

Sereia frowned. “I am absolutely serious. We’d never run from a fight before that, and what happened on the coast of Bezopasnyy will never happen again. Tomorrow at dawn, one of the king’s most trusted men will be joining us, along with the battleship HMS Speedwell, and we will launch forth on a mission to track down the sea creature and destroy it.”

“Captain, are you certain that this is the best thing for us to do?” Chailai’s face was creased with a frown of uncertainty. “We barely escaped from the kraken.”

Sereia’s hands lifted to rest on her hips. “When did we become a group of lily-livered cowards?” she growled. “People are dying out at sea, and it’s always been our prerogative to help them. I, for one, am not okay sitting back while this monster terrorizes helpless villages.” Sereia shook her head, her shoulders stiff with anger. “If any of you have a problem with this, consider this your moment to get the bloody hell off my ship.” With that final snarl, she turned on her heel and marched into her quarters, slamming the door behind her.

They were afraid, she knew that, but they weren’t going to run from this. She could not run from this. Not again.

Dropping down into the chair behind her desk, she sighed roughly. Somehow, she would find a way to defeat this beast and keep her crew out of its hungry maw.

The door to her quarters opened, and Adrik appeared, coming to rest against the doorframe. “One of the king’s most trusted men?”

Sereia signaled for him to come into her quarters. “Shut the door.”

He stepped in and did as commanded, eyeing her.

“It will be King Travion himself.”

“You just couldn’t help but bring your toy back here with you, could you?”

Sereia shot a glare at him. He was backlit by the fading sun, but that didn’t mask the bottle of rum tucked beneath his arm. He knew how to calm her temper once it was riled.

“If you give me that bottle of rum right now, I will refrain from informing the King of Midniva you referred to him as my toy.” Sereia stretched back in her chair, lifting her legs to drop her boots down on the corner of her desk with a thunk.

Around the two small windows on the right side of her quarters were built-in shelves which bore books, navigation equipment, and bits of memorabilia she’d collected from each port she’d ever been in. Sometimes a shell, other times a bottle of alcohol or a scrap of fabric. To her left, beneath two more small windows, was her bed, neatly made and calling for her. She wished she were laying in it right now, staring up at the stars in the night sky, being gently rocked to sleep by the waves, rather than glaring angrily at her first mate.

“He’s not my king, I don’t care what he knows I’ve said.” Adrik grinned but strolled across the cabin to place the bottle of rum on the desk before her.

Sereia reached down and quickly opened the bottom drawer to pull out two tumblers. They were gorgeous pieces that she had picked up in Tribonik. Hand carved from crystal so fragile she kept them nestled in wreaths of fabric in her drawer to protect them from the turmoil of the open water.

The glasses clunked on the desk’s surface, the rum bottle was unstopped, and soon the tumblers were filled with amber liquid. With the ease of familiarity, Sereia and Adrik silently cheered each other and took a sip.

She watched Adrik drop down into the seat across from her as she gratefully swallowed her alcohol. “We have to keep it hush-hush, you do realize?”

“That we’ve got one of the immortal brothers on our ship? Yeah, I gathered.”

Sereia shot him a look. “I’m being serious. We’ll have a battleship following us, so the crew will be curious as is, but they can’t know. If word got out, we’d have more trouble on our hands than a giant kraken. He has enemies abroad, far greater than that beast. The kraken isn’t just a coincidence. It was created by someone with a desire to hurt, and should they find out that Travion is on this ship, it will put us all at great risk.”

“I understand.” Adrik nodded, seriousness replacing the teasing from before. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell the crew to mind their own business when it comes to our visitor and that you have a purpose in all you do. Mind you, it would be an easier thing for them to accept if you stopped interrupting their shore leave.” It was his turn to shoot her a look.

Sereia sighed and took a larger gulp of rum. “I know. And once this is all done, they can have an extended leave, but I can’t control the circumstances as they now stand.”

“And how did these become our circumstances to deal with?”

“You know how.”

“Because you love him.”

Sereia’s eyes narrowed on Adrik, who seemed fully confident in his statement and entirely unconcerned with having voiced it out loud. “Be careful what you say,” she growled.

“What? Are you going to try and tell me he isn’t the one you continue to come home to?”

“Midniva is not my home. The Saorsa is.”

Adrik snorted and lifted a brow. “Saying something doesn’t make it true, Rei.”

Sereia downed the entirety of her cup, inhaling sharply between her teeth at the burn. “Did you come in here for a purpose or only to antagonize me?”

Adrik grinned. “I came to tell you that your ship and crew will be all ready to set sail at dawn, and your royal toy is welcome any time he’d like to appear.”

“Gods, you are annoying at times.”

“At times?”

“Most times.” Sereia dropped her boots to the floor and sat up. Opening the small satchel on her desktop, she pulled out the stone-handled knife she’d bought in the market. “Here.” She lobbed it through the air at him. “I bought you a gift. Though I’m second-guessing that decision now,” she tacked on.

Adrik caught it easily and examined the piece. His eyes lit up with delight, fingers brushing over the detailed work. Shifting it into his hand, he waved the knife, then tested out its balance by holding it up on two fingers. He then flipped it in the air to grab it up again, so it now pointed down in his hand. “It’s great.” He looked at her across the desk. “Thank you. Did it come from the same place as that necklace?”

Sereia looked down, having entirely forgotten about the pendant that Travion had given her. Wrapping her fingers around it, she gazed at the selkie engraved in stone. If only she could know the kind of peace the selkie bore on its face.

“Am I crazy, Adrik?” she asked suddenly. He opened his mouth, then closed it, a pinched look coming to his eyes like he didn’t know how to answer her. “Am I going to get us all killed hunting for this beast?”

Adrik downed the rest of his rum and then sat forward, leaning both elbows on his knees. “Let’s be honest, Rei. We always knew you were going to go back for the kraken—it was a matter of when, not if. You don’t sit back when others are in need, and The Saorsa doesn’t run from trouble. I think you’re asking us to do what we all signed up for.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“Fight.”

She stared across the desk at him. Fight. They could certainly do that. She just hoped she wasn’t steering them into a battle that was already lost.

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