by Frost Kay
“How magnanimous of you.” She rubbed at her temples, just moments from breaking down. “Get out.”
“As you wish.”
Jasmine turned toward the window, and the door closed with a rough click. She bowed her head and began to cry. How could an act she couldn’t remember hurt so much? Why did she understand his logic? What was wrong with her?
She sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted Sam. Even if he was with another woman. Damn her.
She was broken.
Jasmine fell out of bed.
She yelped as the floor tilted, and she slid toward the bookcases. Her nails scrabbled at the ground as she fought to find a grip somewhere. She managed to grab the edges of the bookshelves, only to cause tomes to rain down around her. She curled into a ball, protecting her belly. The floor leveled out some, and she untangled the robe from her legs and squinted in the darkness, trying to get her bearings. What the bloody hell?
Lightning flashed outside, the wind howling. She forced herself to her feet and stumbled over to the window. Dread filled her as another streak of lightning lit up the night sky. The largest wave she’d ever seen raced toward them.
“Swamp apples.” Jasmine dropped to her knees and crawled under the table that was bolted to the floor and wrapped herself around its legs. She grunted and clung to the table as the wave slammed into the ship. The wood groaned and the floor buckled, causing her stomach to lurch. She puked. All over herself and the floor. Her gaze darted to the window, and all she could see was black water.
Full-on panic seized her. She would not drown in this room. She and her baby would get out of here. She couldn’t leave Ethan and Jade without a mum again. Jasmine pushed through her panic and waited for the right moment. The bow of the ship dipped forward, tilting the cabin at an angle toward her bed. She forced herself to let go of the table and squeaked as she slid down the floor to the door. It was too damn heavy to open.
Jasmine glanced at window and steeled herself. She had to wait for the next wave to hit. It wasn’t long. Her breath whooshed out of her as she released the latch, and the door barreled inward.
“Wicked hell.” She gritted her teeth, using the arch of the doorway to pull herself into the hallway. The ship rolled again, and the swinging door switched directions. Jasmine let go of the doorframe right before the door would’ve slammed shut on her fingers. Her feet slipped against the wet floor. Her gaze locked on the stairway that led to the deck. Waves splashed down the stairs, spraying her with icy water.
Jasmine latched onto a nearby doorknob and planted her arse on the ground, shivering. How in the bloody hell was she supposed to get up the stairs? If she took a fall… She glanced at her belly. If she didn’t get out, they’d both drown. She just knew it. Maybe if she slipped her robe tie around each of the planked stairs and crawled up on her hands and knees, she’d make it.
Releasing the doorknob would be one of the hardest things she’d ever done.
It’s now or never.
She yanked the soggy tie from her waist and slid it around the fourth plank up, then wound each end around her hands. She only managed to get up five stairs when the next wave hit her. The breath was knocked from her as the icy water doused her. She gritted her teeth, quickly moved the tie up two more stairs and laboriously worked her way up. By the time she reached the deck, Jasmine was soaked all the way through and her knees were scraped and raw.
What she saw made her want to crawl back to her room.
Lightning cracked across the night sky, bathing the gruesome scene in stark light. Phantom-like fins sliced through the black water, as the creatures preyed on those unfortunate to be swept into the sea’s dark embrace. Scythian warriors strained with ropes, shouting at each other.
Jasmine ducked her head and pressed as close as she could to the stairs, her fingers turning white against the red sash of her robe as the water rose over the edge and soaked her shivering form. She panted as water crashed over her head. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, and she gasped for breath as seawater dripped into her eyes, stinging.
She blinked as a dark figure strode her way, his steps sure despite the weather. Mekhl grunted when he spotted her, his expression grim.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t want to drown,” she yelled.
He hauled her up and maneuvered her so they were behind another set of stairs on the deck. She watched through the gaps in the stairs, as the ship rolled to the side and bobbed back in the other direction. She vomited again. On Mekhl. He didn’t say a word but tied a rope around his waist.
“Lift your arms,” he commanded. She didn’t hesitate. He secured the rope around her chest. “Listen to me. We’re moving toward the coast. There’s a lifeboat. We need to get to it.”
She nodded, shaking from head to toe. Mekhl surprised her and brushed a wet, lank piece of hair from her cheek.
“Stop looking so grim. You’re not dying today.” A wry smile. “Although, you might get your wish. I might not make it.” He paused, scanning the waves. “Move!”
Jasmine scrambled after him, her bare feet sliding all over the deck. It was absolute chaos.
“Damn it!” Mekhl changed direction and pressed her against the mast. He wrapped his arms in the rope and gritted his teeth. “Hold on!”
She managed to get a look at the oncoming wave and screamed. A wall of seawater crashed into them from above. She coughed and spewed. Mekhl groaned.
“Are you all right?” she yelled over the screeching wind.
“Fine.”
Her eyes widened when he pulled his arms from the ropes. Blood leaked from cuts they’d made.
He caught her glance. “It’s nothing.”
Once again, they slipped and slid across the deck to where the lifeboat was secured. It looked tiny.
“Are you sure that will hold us?”
Mekhl spun, his wet braids slapping against his bare chest. “The beach is just right there. We can make it.”
He tossed her into the boat, and her breathing grew shallow as the ship leaned to the side, the life raft almost touching the water. She’d sworn she’d seen a fin. “Please don’t let me get eaten,” she whispered. “Please.”
The warrior jumped into the raft and cut the ties. She shrieked when they were airborne for a moment, but then they hit the water.
“Lie in the bottom and scoot under the seat.”
She did as she was told and gaped when the mast on the ship cracked and splintered as another wave struck. Their raft bobbed uncontrollably, but she couldn’t take her eyes from the Scythian warship. It was as if a massive hand had punched a hole in the rear of the ship.
Where her quarters had been.
“Oh god,” she cried out as another wave rushed toward them.
“We’ll make it,” Mekhl shouted.
They weren’t going to make it.
The wave hit them and tumbled the boat over. The rope pulled taught around her upper body. She screamed, water filling her mouth. The salt water stung her eyes. She couldn’t see anything until a shape moved beneath her. Mekhl’s face entered her vision. With strength she didn’t know anyone could possess, he maneuvered the little boat with frantic movements. Water sluiced from her as the boat was tipped back over.
Jasmine coughed and sobs wracked her chest. Was this her life? To escape one hell, only to journey into another one? She wiped at her eyes and reached for Mekhl’s hand to help him into the boat. Her eyes widened when movement caught her attention.
Leviathans.
“Get in the boat,” she shouted. He tried but his wounded arm failed. She pulled with all her might, her eyes not leaving the fin that streaked toward them. “Come on, come on, come on,” she sobbed.
Mekhl gave her a tender look and cut the rope between them. “I’m sorry.”
The monster struck, and Mekhl disappeared beneath the waves.
“No, no, no, no!” She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Mekhl!”
The black water made it impossible to see anything. Another wave barreled toward her, and she ducked down into the bottom of the piddly boat, holding on for dear life.
Her screams were lost to the wind as the wild seas threw her about. The bottom of the boat hit something solid and cracked. She lifted her head. The small raft was lodged between two huge rocks.
Another wave hit. And another. And another.
The boat didn’t move.
Jasmine found a rhythm. Breathe, breathe, wave.
At some point, she stopped feeling cold.
She stared at the roiling sky and screamed until she was hoarse.
She was Jasmine bloody Ramses.
Nothing and no one would be taking her from her babies.
Her stomach cramped, pain rendering her breathless. This could not be happening.
Labor was upon her.
Twenty-Nine
Sage
Sage didn’t know what disturbed her the most.
The empty maw of nothingness that numbed her, or the morose expressions on the soldiers’ faces as she neared the edge of camp. Tehl’s hand warmed her as he led her to their inner circle. Zachael, Rafe, Raziel, Hayjen, Blaise, and Domin stood or sat waiting, snow falling heavily around them.
Sage released Tehl’s hand and strode to Blaise, who sat on a stump. She eyed her friend’s splinted leg and dropped to her haunches. “How in the blazes did you get Mira to let you out of the infirmary?”
The Scythian woman cracked a smile. “I promised not to put any weight on it, and to use the burly one as a pack horse.” She flicked a finger toward Rafe. “But, in all honesty, he’s not a stallion, more like a jackass.”
Sage sniggered. “How very accurate.”
Blaise’s smile melted, and her expression turned serious. “Are you prepared for what lies ahead?”
She wasn’t. Who could possibly plan to face such a thing? “To the best of my ability.”
Her friend seized her hands and pulled her closer. “Do you remember what I told you before we marched to meet the warlord?”
“How could I ever forget?” Sage sighed, her breath a puff of frosted air.
Blaise released Sage’s hands and pulled a tiny jar from her cloak. She pulled the lid off and dipped her fingers into the onyx Tia warpaint. “Lean toward me and tell me who you are.”
Sage closed her eyes. The paint was cold on her skin, but Blaise’s movements were comforting as she swirled the paint across her cheeks and eyelids. “I am Sage Ramses. Warrior princess of Aermia. I am not the warlord’s pawn. I am not his consort. I am his demise.”
“Very good. Open your eyes.”
Sage lifted her lashes and met Blaise’s dark gaze. The Scythian woman drew a line over her lips, down her chin to her throat. “Who are you?”
“I am his judgement, his enemy, and his ultimate destruction.”
Blaise smiled, but it wasn’t nice. “You are his death.” She kissed both of Sage’s cheeks and then whispered, “You are not alone. Sisters in arms, yeah?”
Sage hugged her. “Always.”
“I will see you soon.”
She nodded and stood, her cloak disturbing the snow as she turned to face the rest of the group. Her hands opened and closed as she stared at some of her most cherished friends. What was she supposed to say?
Zachael approached first. He pulled her into a bear hug and dropped a kiss on the top of her hooded head. “Fight hard, Sage.”
She nodded and gave him a squeeze before he moved on. Rafe stepped up next and clasped both of her cheeks. They stared at each other for a long time. She could almost read his mind, just from the look in his eyes.
“Don’t make me hunt for you,” he said gruffly.
“I won’t.”
He brushed his nose against hers before retreating so Hayjen could take his spot. Her uncle pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “Don’t let your emotions get the best of you.” He pulled back, his arctic eyes pinning her in place. “Find your nothing space and stay there. It will be your protection, ma fille.”
Her heart twanged at the use of Lilja’s pet name. “I promise.”
She let out a sound of surprise when Raziel pulled her into a quick hug. “I have no words of advice for you.” He flashed her a smile. “You’re the strongest of us all. I’ll see you soon, Sage.”
Sage nodded at Domin, who was also wearing white, and turned to face her silent husband. His expression was completely blank, and, for once, she was so thankful she couldn’t get a read on him. If she’d seen even the tiniest bit of fear, she didn’t think she’d be able to go.
“To the end, my love?”
Tehl breached the space between them and pushed her hood from her head. “And back, my love.” He kissed her softly in an uncharacteristic public show of affection and then brushed his nose against hers. “I’ll be seeing you soon, wife.”
Her smile trembled. This man. Tehl pulled her hood back up into place and stepped back, his arms crossed. She took one last glance at him and turned her back on him, facing the desolate stretch of battlefield ahead of them.
Lastly, she dropped to her knees and held her arms out. “Come here, Nali.”
The leren slunk from the darkness and butted her in the chest with her head. Sage threw her arms around the feline and hugged Nali close. “I wish you could come with me,” she whispered. Pulling back, she scratched the leren’s ears affectionately. “You need to stay here and protect him.” Nali’s golden eyes blinked at her like she understood Sage’s words. She gave the feline one last hug before standing.
“Domin?” she asked, turning to her Methian guard.
“Ready, my lady.”
Sage inhaled deeply, and ignored the panic that was trying to creep up and freeze her in place. The time for fear was over.
She took her first step onto the battlefield and didn’t look back.
Thirty
Tehl
Watching her walk away almost killed him. She never looked back.
Tehl stared until she blended in with the storm and disappeared from view. Even then, he didn’t move.
Hayjen clasped his shoulder, and Tehl met the man’s gaze.
“She will come back,” Hayjen said.
An absurd statement. No one could promise that.
“He won’t harm her,” Blaise said, her smoky voice like black velvet.
Tehl looked to her. The Scythian woman pulled her cloak tighter around herself but met his gaze full on.
“My uncle won’t kill her.”
“And what makes you so sure?” he rumbled, hating that there was a little hope unfurling in his chest. He smashed it down, ruthlessly. To survive what was coming, he had to put her out of his mind.
“He’s too obsessed with her to let her escape him, even in death. His demons wouldn’t allow it.”
“Blaise,” Rafe chastised.
She glared at the former rebellion leader. “I am being honest.” Her attention turned back to Tehl. “You can be thankful for that, at least.”
A small favor—if he didn’t think about what else the warlord would be doing with his wife. Tehl closed his eyes and sank into the quiet, calm place in his mind and counted to thirty. When he opened his eyes, everything was calm. He scanned the group.
“She’s probably halfway there. We move now.”
Thirty-One
Sage
The storm swallowed Sage whole, and time ceased to exist. They could have been traveling for minutes or hours. She didn’t know.
Her cloak whipped around her as she moved stealthily across the battlefield with Domin. Thank the stars he was with her or she would have gotten lost. She pinned her eyes to Domin’s cloak and stumbled as she stepped on something too soft to be the ground. Her stomach rose, but she kept plowing on. The snow blanketed the earth in a white shroud, and, while that was a blessing, it was also a curse. One never knew if it was a natural mound or a forsaken body.
S
hadows in the distance appeared.
Domin darted behind a boulder, and Sage followed him. They crouched and stared at each other.
“The camp is three hundred paces past this stone. We’ve managed to skirt by the patrol but…”
She understood. Sage laid a hand on his arm. “You need to go back. I’ll go on from here by myself.”
The Methian shook his head. “You’re my lady. I go where you go.”
“I will not be the cause of your death. You know the plan is for me to go in by myself.”
His eyes narrowed. “Plans change when put into action.”
“Not in this.” She squeezed his arm. “You will long for death when he’s finished with you. You will also be another way he will try to control me. We give him nothing,” she said fiercely.
Domin slowly nodded. “May the wind be with you.”
“And may the stars shine down on you,” she whispered back in the Methian way.
Sage released his arm and peeked around the boulder. She didn’t see any movement, but that meant nothing. The snow protected her, but it also obscured her enemy. She glanced over her shoulder at Domin. He was gone. What she wouldn’t give for skills like that. He was almost as silent as Rafe.
She blew out a breath and crept around the boulder. Sage moved carefully across the open space. Her skin prickled at being so exposed. Her senses screamed at her to run, but she forced herself to maintain the slow pace. Her clothing aided in camouflaging her approach, but it didn’t conceal her completely. A slow-moving object would attract much less attention.
The first tent appeared almost out of nowhere, and her heart thundered. Damn snow. What if it had been the enemy? She eyed the tent. Was there someone inside? If there was, would the snow dampen the sound of her approach? She didn’t know.