Page 35 of The Kraken Bride

Whatever this place was, it wasn’t meant to bring comfort.

We started forward, still hand in hand. Two armed guards opened the door for us, and we sailed inside a lobby lit by bioluminescent panels set into the walls. The floor glowed soft indigo and sea-green.

I scanned the lobby. We were the only beings present. The dome overhead revealed churning, murky waters. That alone would have held my attention captive save for the lone work of art that loomed just beyond the threshold: a massive sculpture carved from a single slab of obsidian coral, depicting a kraken king rising from the depths, crown cracked, tentacles flared and curling at the ends. Fractures in the stone glimmered with faint light, as if the piece still remembered the violence that shaped it.

A strange pressure settled behind my eyes, as if the sculpture looked back at me.

“Who is he?” Definitely not Sebastian. The facial bones were far too sharp.

“The primordial,” he replied. “His image serves as a reminder of what we can lose if ever we surrender our strength.”

I peered at the visage with new eyes, noting previously missed details. The crown wasn’t merely cracked but crushed inward, as if by a force applied from within. One tentacle hung severed mid-coil, the break jagged rather than clean, while another curled protectively around what might be a pile of bones near the base.

Whose bones were those?

My throat wobbled, and I tightened my grip on Sebastian’s hand. This wasn’t a portrait of power alone, but a warning wrapped around loss.

As he led me away, he said, “Jon and I began training to join Jokull’s army at ten. We were friends then. As close as brothers.” He inhaled sharply. “When I emerged as king, he transitioned to my second-in-command. I trusted him with much. Too much.” His tone iced. “He stole the rune.”

Ouch. “Yet now you ally with him?”

“A temporary arrangement. A kingdom divided in war will always fall.” Even as his gaze slid from me, he caressed his thumb over my hand. “He offered it to me once, years ago. If I begged for it.”

I could not imagine Sebastian Mórisi begging anyone for anything. “What did you do instead?”

A cold, murderous smile flashed, satisfaction oozing from him. “I only recently delivered my vengeance, wiping out half of his army and letting him believe the primordial did it. Afterward, Jon begged me for a truce.”

Such cunning. He’d turned Jon’s scheme against him. But the patience required to wait to deliver his vengeance must have been staggering.

We paused before a monument set in a recessed alcove. Unlike the primordial artwork, this piece used pale, smooth driftwood. It depicted a kraken queen standing at the edge of a tide-ring, one hand lifted, clutching a rune stone, the other palm braced over her heart. Unarmed and unarmored, yet the tide beneath her feet surged outward, frozen in rock mid-crash, as if obeying her very will alone. Fine lines of light traced the rune, seeming to radiate from her touch.

“Can you hear these?” I asked, curious.

“They are decorations, not real.” He peered at the statue. “This is my mother. Magnificent, wasn’t she?”

My jaw dropped. His mother? “She was beautiful.” Elegance merged with strength.

He breathed deep. “I did not drive out Jokull before. She did. She’s the one who wielded the convergence rune back then. The reason it awoke.” His expression became adoringly soft and terrifyingly lethal. “She did it to save me.” Then his face blanked. “And she died for it.”

I squeezed his hand and pressed closer, resting my head on his shoulder. No words, just comfort.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Everyone assumed I was the one to expel Jokull, and I let them think it. I wanted—need—my shot at the primordial, and seizing the crown was the only way.”

Well, no wonder he didn’t have the rune now. It hadn’t faded from him because it had never been his.

I’d been so sure he’d done the deed, that he’d paid the toll himself. I’d been wrong about the payee.

“My mother welcomed the rune, and it fed her its power. It will do the same for me, but better.” He jutted his chin. “She was frail from hunger and weak from blood loss, and it drained her fast. Jokull, however, operated at full strength. And yet, even still, she was strong enough to spew him from the dome.”

That. That must be the cost. Would it drain Sebastian?

He spotted the question on my face. “I won’t let it drain me.”

Pretty words, but some things couldn’t be controlled. I kept the thought to myself, intending to sit with it before I instigated any kind of debate.

“And you, back then? You were missing a pinky and probably hurting in a thousand other ways.”

His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I helped her as best I could until she took her last breath. I couldn’t save her. This time—” any softness in him vanished “—I will wipe even Jokull’s memory from this realm.”