Page 43 of The Kraken Bride

Three Days Until Convergence

Tiny pinpricks of light flickered across my sea of nothingness. A pulse here. A falling star there. So pretty. I reached out, stretching my arm toward a glittering cluster of illumination. As my fingers brushed it, collecting the warmth, tingles rushed over my whole body. Fire-hot, familiar.

Those tingles intensified until they stung. The nothingness disintegrated at the edges, revealing chaos. Danger!

With a gasp, I jolted upright. Heart pounding, lungs dragging in air.

“Easy, Brona.” A welcome voice. Soothing, controlled, and absolute. “You’re safe now.”

My gaze jerked to him, my mind scrambling to make sense of what I saw. Not a battlefield but a bedchamber, Sebastian seated beside me, a picture of simmering intensity. Dark hair disordered, as if he’d stabbed his fingers through the strands too many times to count. Fine lines branching from tempest-glazed eyes. Chiseled jaw set hard with restraint.

“Safe,” I echoed, hollow. I wouldn’t feel safe until I watched the primordial burn to ash.

Sebastian looked away from me, as if he couldn’t bear to see the vengeance filling my eyes. “I let myself forget the circumstances. I won’t again.” His tone hardened. “You have my word.”

I might not be at full operating capacity yet, still shedding sleep and memories, but I understood this. Fear of losing someone else important to him had sunk its claws deeper. “You aren’t responsible, Sebastian. I don’t blame you.”

“I blame myself.” His hands tightened on his knees, knuckles whitening. An action meant to stop him from reaching for me? “I did not account for my reaction to you. But I am accounting for it now.”

I knew enough about warriors to know they couldn’t be talked around when they’d decided. They required showing, not telling. So I just breathed there beside him, luxuriating in the scent of amber, driftwood and spiced wine. All Sebastian. And all mine.

I examined the bed we occupied. Not one in the watercraft, and not the one in my suite. An enormous antique framed in blackened coral and etched with swirling kraken motifs, its rising posts reminding me of anchored pylons. Sapphire and midnight-blue linens lay smooth and perfectly ordered, heavy enough to feel protective as much as indulgent.

My shirt matched—wait. My shirt. Not Gunnar’s. Someone had replaced it with a slightly smaller tunic bearing the kraken royal crest.

My heart gave a stupid little kick. “You changed me?”

“I did. No one else will ever be allowed to do that.” A muscle jumped beneath Sebastian’s eye. “Not while you’re here. You were covered in blood, and I wanted it off you.”

A practical reason. Totally necessary. And very much something a firebrand would say. Which reminded of me what Jokull implied.

I could have set the suggestion aside again, but I didn’t. I’d just survived war with the primordial and an army of mers. No more backing down from tough questions. “Jokull implied I am your firebrand.”

Sebastian stiffened the slightest bit. “You are my consort. As we agreed.”

Okay, so, I’d asked. He’d dodged. Moving on. “Where are we?”

He didn’t answer right away. “Welcome to my room, princess.”

I took a second look. Walls of carved dark stone glistened faintly, as if centuries of tides had polished them. Above, veins of deep blue and silver threaded a tiered ceiling, catching the light to resemble moonlit currents. Windows intersected the stone, tall and arched apertures sealed with thick crystal panes. Shelves overflowing with ancient texts and framed maps marked with careful, strategic precision. The sitting area where we’d once eaten together what seemed a lifetime ago.

A multitude of weapons rested within easy reach. Swords mounted on the walls. A trident-shaped spear secured near the bed. Daggers waiting on the nightstand.

“It’s very you.” Everything in the room spoke of control and vigilance. A king who slept prepared for war, if he slept at all. But no personal items graced his personal space. No odd collections or portraits of loved ones who’d passed on. Nothing hinted at who he might have been before the crown, only who he’d been forced to become.

Sebastian rose and massaged his nape. “Tell me what happened.”

Dread and fury frothed in his tone.

“You first.” I tucked the covers more firmly around my waist. He’d taken his warmth with him. “In the water, you vanished. Gunnar said you went to the dome.”

“We start with your injuries,” he insisted. “I will hear a full accounting.” He dragged a chair to the foot of the bed and sat, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze remained fixed on me, hot enough to blister. “Go.”

Nein, nein, nein. “I will start, ja, but not there. With advice. You are attempting to steamroll me, and I don’t like it. Stop immediately, or this conversation ends.” Just because I understood his fear and his anger didn’t mean I welcomed being subjected to it.

He inhaled slowly. Exhaled slower. The pause stretched. “My… apologies. Please tell me. What I’ve imagined isn’t great.”

I suspected that had been very tough for him to say, and I rewarded him with the information he desired. “In the beginning, Jokull was on the island. Did you know he expects you to use the convergence rune against him?”