Dynami’s Wrath

by St Clare, Kelly

  Ebba scowled to cover her answering smile. “I’m mostly a pirate, but I’m also a few other things, too, and I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, before ye said what ye did on Exosia, I’d never thought about ye as more than a friend.”

  Caspian winced.

  “Anyone as more than a friend.” She quickly amended. “But . . . I ain’t averse to explorin’ the concept. With ye.”

  She’d seen love for herself with Locks and Verity; she’d now felt the pulsing connection between the two original daedalions. Even Medusa, a goddess, had been obsessed with finding another to share her life with. Ebba remembered the ache in her chest just before the original lovers passed.

  Love was . . . powerful.

  Perhaps the pursuit of love was another adventure. A pirate should want to embark on adventures. Ebba shouldn’t limit herself by being closed-minded about finding love, in the same way she’d limited herself to being one thing for so long. Verity had said she’d constantly change, after all, and that appealed to Ebba—that she’d never become stagnant.

  The sea was ever-flowing. Ebba would be like that.

  “You return my feelings?” Caspian asked her. He darted his amber eyes to her fathers, but they weren’t paying attention, sprawled and whining about old people things.

  Ebba chose her words carefully—which was starting to become a really bad habit. “I’m open to the idea of thinkin’ o’ ye in that way. I ain’t sayin’ I return yer feelings now or that I ever will. I’m saying there be sumpin’ excitin’ between us, and I want to explore it. I don’t want to say words that’ll give ye false promise or lead ye on. And ye can be certain that if I do end up returnin’ yer regard, it won’t be because ye want it. It’ll be because it just . . . happened.” Ebba trailed off with an awkward shrug. Everyone should love freely. Just like the daedalion lovers. They’d inspired her.

  Caspian picked up her hand, and conversation drew to an abrupt halt as the gesture stole her fathers’ rapt attention.

  The prince kissed the back of her hand as he’d done in the past, yet now—knowing what she knew of his deeper regard, and with her last declaration ringing in her ears—the kiss felt as forbidden as his lips against hers.

  Plank got up and lowered himself between them, forcing Ebba and Caspian to shift apart.

  But the prince leaned forward, a secret smile on his lips, and said, “Mistress Pirate, I understand you completely.”

  Thank you for reading

  I hope you loved Dynami’s Wrath! VERITAS (book five) releases soon. Pick up your copy here.

  If you’d like to connect with me and receive exclusive bonuses, go ahead and subscribe at: https://www.kellystclare.com/free-gifts/

  Acknowledgments

  Getting Ebba to willingly put on a dress wasn’t easy. Between you and me, I was surprised it only took her three books.

  But I digress.

  To my friends and family. I love ye, m’hearties! Thank you for your support over the years.

  To my husband, Scott, who helps me in all kinds of ways; from input on covers and the business side of authoring to being an unwavering and loving presence in my life.

  My beta readers for this series are so in tune with the small details. A massive thank you to these ladies for their early input during the manuscript process.

  Next, to my swashbuckling manuscript team:

  Editor One

  Melissa Scott

  Editor Two

  Robin Schroffel

  Proofreaders

  Patti Geesey and Dawn Yacovetta

  Map Illustrator

  Laura Diehl

  Cover Designer & Illustrator

  Amalia Chitulescu

  I must give thanks to my pirate crew—my readers. If you don’t finish each of these books thinking and speaking in pirate, then I’m not doing my job right ;) Thank ye kindly for bein’ here, Mateys!

  Lastly, I’d like to take a moment to speak about A.J. - to whom this book is dedicated. Suicide is one of the greatest tragedies I can think of for any family to go through. Simply because there is choice involved. So, please, if you ever feel the urge to harm yourself, choose to seek help. Because when you’re at rock bottom, the only direction is up. It’s just hard to recall an up exists.

  But it is there, my friend. I promise you that.

  Global suicide hotline list: http://www.suicidestop.com/call_a_hotline.html

  Happy Reading,

  Kelly

  About Kelly St. Clare

  When Kelly is not reading or writing, she is lost in her latest reverie.

  Books have always been magical and mysterious to her. One day she decided to unravel this mystery and began writing.

  The Tainted Accords was her debut series. Her other works include The After Trilogy, The Darkest Drae, and Pirates of Felicity.

  A New Zealander in origin and in heart, Kelly currently resides in Australia with her ginger-haired husband, a great group of friends, and some huntsman spiders who love to come inside when it rains. Their love is not returned.

  Also By Kelly St Clare

  The Tainted Accords:

  Fantasy of Frost

  Fantasy of Flight

  Fantasy of Fire

  Fantasy of Freedom

  The Tainted Accords Novellas:

  Sin

  Olandon

  Rhone

  Shard

  The After Trilogy:

  The Retreat

  The Return

  The Reprisal

  The Darkest Drae (Trilogy) Co-written with Raye Wagner

  Blood Oath

  Shadow Wings

  Black Crown

  Pirates of Felicity:

  Immortal Plunder

  Stolen Princess

  Pillars of Six

  Dynami’s Wrath

  Veritas

  Fantasy of Frost

  I know many things. What I am capable of, what I will change, what I will become. But there is one thing I will never know.

  The veil I’ve worn from birth carries with it a terrible loneliness; a suppression I cannot imagine ever being free of.

  Some things never change…

  My mother will always hate me. Her court will always shun me.

  …Until they do.

  When the peace delegation arrives from the savage world of Glacium, my life is shoved wildly out of control by the handsome Prince Kedrick, who for unfathomable reasons shows me kindness.

  And the harshest lessons are learned.

  Sometimes it takes the world bringing you to your knees to find that spark you thought forever lost.

  Sometimes it takes death to show you how to live.

  COMPLETE SERIES NOW AVAILABLE

  Bonus Chapter

  Veritas

  “Just keep her away from grog,” Ebba-Viva Fairisles hollered, hanging over the port bulwark. “And if she ain’t drinkin’, keep her away from wood. She chews it sumpin’ fierce.”

  The queen of the wind sprites had switched one bad habit for another when the purgium cured her of alcoholism.

  Sally, or queen Saliha as she was actually called, waved from the middle of her minions. Or flipped Ebba off. That was very possible.

  Stubby rested a hand of her arm. “They’ll be takin’ care o’ her, lass. And ye know she can hold her own.”

  After her mother died, Sal decided to take a holiday. That holiday turned into an alcohol-filled bender. But she was finally listening to the call of duty to her people. The sprites would go back to their kingdom by Charibdys, the great whirlpool.

  “Aye, don’t worry over her, little nymph,” Plank said. “She has fierce sharp teeth.” He rubbed his forearm where the queen bit him just that morning.

  Ebba sniffed and dashed a stained sleeve over her eyes.

  She cast another look at her tiny flying friend, now a speck in the distance, and then glanced behind at her six fathers, Jagger, and Prince Caspian.

  “Why are ye all loungin’ about,” she snapped. “We
’ve got sails to furl and. . .and. . .lots o’ other stuff. Get to it.”

  Edging closer, Peg-leg patted her shoulder. “Aye, lass. We’ll get to work.” He hobbled away with the signature tap-tap-tap of his wooden peg.

  Her lower lip trembled.

  Barrels adjusted his cravat and reached forward to squeeze her hand. “I’ll see to the sheets with Plank.”

  “Good,” she replied hoarsely. “They ain’t tight enough.”

  Considering the sails weren’t raised, that was a given. Stubby and Plank glanced at the bare mast but, very wisely, didn’t voice their thoughts.

  Locks disappeared after her other fathers, shooting a small smile her way.

  Grubby stepped forward. He twisted his Monmouth cap in white-knuckled hands. The cap had frayed along the edges from the regular abuse, and probably wouldn’t last until they were back in the Caspian Sea.

  If they got back. That was a real concern—especially as the only immortal being in their company just flew away.

  Grubby inched closer and Ebba blinked furiously to keep her tears at bay. The youngest of her fathers, just forty-six, quit his cap twisting and wrapped both arms around her. He rested his head atop hers.

  “It’s okay to be sad about yer friend leavin’,” he said. “I was sad to leave my selkie kin behind.”

  Ebba swallowed several times, panic rising in her throat as she began to lose the battle not to cry. She whispered, “But ye can talk to them when ye’re in the water.”

  “Not now we be in the Dynami Sea,” he said, rubbing her back. “Too far away. Or maybe it be because the water here is full o’ magic creatures.”

  Or maybe the taint had spread through the sea in the Exosian Realm and Grubby’s kin no longer possessed their will. Though Grubby’s Octopi still traveled between Zol and Felicity to bring messages, so Ebba’s home seas couldn’t be completely taken over.

  She buried her face in Grubby’s chest, using it to wipe away the few tears that had escaped her iron grip.

  He pulled back. “Ye’ll see her again.”

  Grubby made for the bow, and Ebba turned to face the sea, her face wet. Jagger and Caspian still lingered, and out of the whole crew, they were the people she least wanted to see her cry.

  “Someone will need to. . . .” she trailed off.

  Sod it, Ebba couldn’t think of a single thing to order them about with.

  A large warm hand rested between her shoulder blades. She took a shaking breath, knowing if she lifted a hand to dry her tears, the game would be up.

  . . . Though maybe she’d already failed at that.

  Caspian stood close, just behind her. “Mistress Pirate, it’s okay to cry.”

  Ebba sighed. “Caspian, ye ain’t supposed to say someone be cryin’ if they’re tryin’ to hide it.”

  He paused and she could practically hear the rum in his skull sloshing about as he pondered that comment.

  “That’s a pirate truth, I gather?” the prince said.

  Well, he was less a prince and more of a king shoved out of his kingdom by the most powerful evil force of all time. The pillars of six ruled and resided on his throne, enslaving his people, but Ebba wasn’t about to point that out. Everyone knew not to point out such things. Apart from him, obviously.

  “Aye, pirate truths are the only truths worth knowin’,” she answered flippantly.

  His teeth clicked as he snapped his mouth shut.

  Granted, pirates pretended not to see the truth an awful lot. But that was the essence of a pirate truth—only seeing the truths needed for survival. Of course, Ebba now believed some truth might be a necessary evil. The question was: How much truth was enough? And how much was too much?

  Those answers were as yet unclear, and she wanted to make an informed choice about this whole truth business.

  Caspian’s hand still rested on her back. Warm. “What do you need me to do?” he asked.

  Ebba quickly dried her face. “Nothin’. Just go and see if the ship be ready.”

  He dropped his hand but hovered for several more seconds. Enough to make her feel bad because she badgered the prince not to shut her out. After losing his left arm, he sank into himself for a good, long time.

  “You’re sure?” he murmured in a low voice that made her shiver.

  Ebba would be lying—to herself, which she was trying not to do anymore—if she didn’t confess their recent conversation about deeper regard had made the prince even more caring and bright-eyed than usual. Since telling him she wanted to explore the waters between them, Caspian stood closer and touched her in small ways—like the hand on her upper back thing.

  Ebba didn’t mind it.

  She often found those small touches exciting. But not right this moment.

  Not with Jagger standing there.

  His silver eyes scorched into the back of her skull as he most likely judged her. If he wasn’t there, Ebba might have leaned back against the prince and talked of how sad she was that the only other female on Felicity had left. She might have spoken about how people leaving her never felt right. Her fathers leaving tore her apart inside, but even when friends left, their absence played constantly in the back of her skull. She might have said all that if the flaxen-haired pirate wasn’t lingering—likely for nefarious reasons—to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  After the Medusa run in, Ebba decided to trust Jagger, but he’d always put her on edge and that hadn’t changed; that puzzle remained unsolved.

  “I be sure,” she replied.

  Caspian moved away, leaving her back cold.

  Ebba shivered again. The Dynami Sea was a far cry from the cerulean tropical sea they’d left—black water, frigid air, dark skies, and a constant rolling swell that would only be experienced during the start of a storm back home. This sea was every bit as dreary as Plank had recited in his tales of old magic. She couldn’t wait to be back in the Caspian Sea, safely anchored at their sacred haven at Zol. But for that to happen, Zol had to be a safe haven. So first they needed to form the root of magic by finding the remaining two parts. And somehow defeat the six pillars to save everyone in the realm.

  No problem.

  She shook her head. Luck had to be a big part of winning because Davy Jones knew there was no planning of any sort happening on their end. All their crew knew was that Ebba, Caspian, and Jagger were the three watchers—mortals who brought balance to the presence of immortalkind in the realm by regulating the root of magic. And that Jagger was an immune—resistant to magical influence. As for Ebba’s and Caspian’s role? Nothing. No notion.

  “I’m goin’ to climb to the crow’s nest,” Jagger said.

  Ebba wrenched her thoughts back to the present. She whirled from the bulwark as Jagger strode past her.

  “What did ye say?” she called.

  The oversized pirate didn’t stop but glanced over his shoulder. “I’m goin’ to climb the shrouds.”

  Ebba dashed a sleeve over her face and scowled at him. “Nay. That be my job.”

  She ran across the deck after him and grabbed his arm. He slowly turned, and Ebba tipped her head back, and back some more. Definitely oversized for a pirate.

  “Ye seem content to be gazin’ out at water and orderin’ others about, so I’ll be takin’ it upon myself to do the job,” he said.

  He didn’t even bother to sneer anymore. Not like before when he was part of Malice’s crew. Now, he looked at her without expression, as though he couldn’t be bothered with the effort to arrange his facial features into disdain. Only very occasionally could she glean his true thoughts. Was the impassive mask a step up or a step down?

  He pulled free of her grip and continued striding toward the rigging.

  “Nay,” Ebba said, walking quickly to catch up.

  His hip bumped hers. On purpose. She bumped him right back.

  They lunged for the rigging at the same time.

  “Aye,” he told her.

  “Nay,” she hissed, flinging an arm out to whack his th
ieving hands away from the ropes.

  Her fingers touched his bare skin and she hurriedly wiped them off against her slops. His scraggly flaxen hair swung forward as he watched her, jaw clenched.

  Jagger had a natural resistance to magic however he’d sailed aboard Malice for two years. In time, he’d throw off any remaining taint, but having been victim to the taint herself, Ebba wasn’t about to risk catching it again. His eyes weren’t flooded black. That meant he wasn’t contagious. But none of the crew were taking any chances. She’d keep wiping her hands just in case.

  His eyes bore into hers. “Ye only want to go to the crow’s nest because I said I’m goin’. Or is that it, Viva? If ye want to spend time with me in close quarters, ye just have to say the word.”

  What word? Her mind stuttered. How did they get onto this subject? She narrowed her eyes, realizing Jagger was attempting to unsettle her.

  Heat crept up her neck, and Ebba leaned in, opening her mouth.

  Peg-leg’s wooden peg tapped in rapid staccato, interrupting her thoughts. Ebba blinked. Sink her, when had she and Jagger drawn so close?

  She leaned back slightly, but Jagger crowded her, so they remained nose-to-nose. A twinge of alarm coursed through her as his mouth drew within a finger-width of hers—not quite touching.

  “Ye’re still a spoilt princess,” Jagger declared.

  Ebba was a princess. Not that being tribal royalty meant a whole bunch to her. She objected to the first part. “I ain’t so spoilt.” Anymore.

  It was mostly true.

  “Aye, yer fathers cater to yer moods.”

  Her moods were Peg-leg’s fault. He taught her that. And anyway, there were some perks to having six fathers that she wasn’t willing to part with.