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“Forget Ferrante. Forget fate.” He opened his eyes, and she took an involuntary step backward at the ferocity in his stare. “You aren’t going to die.”
She gaped at him, lost for words. What was wrong with him? It wasn’t as though she wanted to die.
He kneaded his hands together, cracking his knuckles, his face a mask of darkness. She’d never seen him this agitated before, not even when Artus taunted him on the docks of Klatos.
“Are you losing your mind?” she asked.
While she knew this probably wasn’t the most tactful question, she was completely lost. She didn’t even know what to ask him. Was he experiencing some mysterious human emotion to which she was ignorant?
The pirate glared at her for several moments, while she grew increasingly bewildered.
“Yes,” he replied finally, in a dull tone. “Perhaps I am losing my mind.”
Then, without waiting for a response, he continued up the road. She hastened after him, her mind whirling with everything he’d said. Every few paces, Jarin would look down at his hands, flexing them and turning them over.
Ahead, the mountainside grew closer, blotting out the last dying light of the day.
CHAPTER 25
For the past decade, Jarin had wished for his mother’s curse to break.
He wanted freedom from it, and he wanted Prince Davron liberated, too. The magic coursed through Jarin’s veins ceaselessly, like a dark pulse. When he was threatened, the pulse grew stronger. In a decade, it’d never not been there.
And it was there still. But for how much longer, if the rumors about the prince were true? Curses were made to be broken, and his mother’s was no different, strong though it was.
If a woman fell in love with Davron, the curse would end. And along with it, the protection given to Jarin by his mother. That had never bothered him before—he’d wanted it.
But now? Riella needed him, and Artus was wreaking havoc. It would be the worst possible time for the curse to break.
Saving Riella’s life would be a difficult enough task on its own, let alone without his invulnerability as a shield against the likes of Polinth and Artus.
Jarin never wanted to become attached to anyone. How could he, when he saw the devastation that passion wrought upon the people around him? Love and grief turned people into monsters.
To avoid such loss, he became a pirate, married only to the seas. That he’d grown attached to a violent siren was proof of fate’s humor. That she was doomed to die, and soon, was proof of fate’s cruelty.
Jarin could not let Riella die. He knew that as surely as he knew his own name. If he lost her, he would spend the rest of his life looking for her ghost, and counting the minutes until he could reunite with her in the Beyond. He truly believed now that it was his fate to meet her, and protect her.
His whole life, he’d felt rudderless. He’d been forgotten by the powers that governed the universe—as if he was a spare part, an unimportant cast-off. A consequence of a far grander story. A mistake, even.
Since growing close to Riella, he no longer believed that.
He hoped the elf could be rescued without complication, so that Polinth would have no hostage to hide behind. Jarin and Riella could bring him to justice, and move on with finding the amulet, to save her.
All he had to do was bend fate to his will, and stop at nothing to do it.
But for now, he needed to keep her in the dark about his true intentions.
“Sorry about that,” he said to Riella as they neared the mountainside. The road became steeper and more narrow, and birdcalls ceased. The only sound was leaves clattering in a stiff, cool breeze uncharacteristic of summer. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Her face relaxed into an easy smile, and he fought the urge to take her in his arms and run away with her, far from danger.
“It’s alright,” she said with a shrug. Her braided hair only emphasized her beauty, because it showed more of her face. He could stare at her endlessly. “And besides, you didn’t scare me. I just want to know what occupies your mind so fiercely.”
Jarin shoved his hands in his pockets, his cutlass bumping against his thigh. If she knew the precise contents of his mind, she might indeed become scared.
Mostly, he tried to repress his dark side, believing it to be shameful. But it was useful on occasion, like when he was fighting for something he wanted. And he definitely wanted something now. He wanted to save her.
“I was thinking about the curse,” he said truthfully. “Hearing about Davron is always jarring. In a twisted way, he’s my counterpart. My mirror image. Our fates are bound.”
