Page 74 of The Kraken Bride

I rushed toward the soldier, but I wasn’t fast enough to save him as shifters trampled on his body. And then, almost as quickly as it started, the battle ended.

The few remaining survivors ran, terrified of Sebastian. I saw them go, scrambling over debris.

“Stay,” the king commanded, allowing none of his men to give chase, his voice hollow and without timbre. “They are not the primordial.”

The last lingering effects of the convergence ended, too, the sky healing, tides unlocking and sliding apart. Krakenströnd stood. Victory had never felt like so much loss.

He began calling out orders, preparing for war. One of those orders made me feel as if I were being stabbed with an invisible blade. “Gunnar, escort the princess home to Ashmorra, as planned.”

I jerked back. Princess. No longer queen.

Gunnar headed in my direction, but I backed up right into Harpa.

She motioned for the soldier to halt, and he obeyed. Side by side, we watched the king walk through the wreckage of his enemies with no expression on his face. After a very long time, she said, “You did the right thing.”

“Did I?” I croaked.

She gave me a terse nod. “Oh, já. Now the real fun begins. He’ll hunt Jokull. And you…” She gripped my wrist and squeezed twice. Danger. Leave. “You’ll find a way to win Sebastian back. Because you must. Now go. Hide. Goodbye, Queen Bronwyn. Until we meet again.”

She waved Gunnar on, and he resumed his journey my way, stoney-faced. Too late. I took her words to heart, unleashed my smokewings, and flew off.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

When a kraken decides to keep you, escape is no longer an option.

–An Incomplete Guide to Kraken Survival

One hand remained locked around my coin necklace as I flew past the palace grounds, remembering the words Sebastian had spoken to me only a day ago. Mistakes can be fixed, if I’m willing to fix them.

“Fix the mistake, fix the mistake,” I chanted to myself. The palace grounds gave way to the city, and the city gave way to a forest. My wings screamed, but I couldn’t land yet. Not until I found what I needed.

I hunted a wall, a stone, a seam. Anything with a rune. But the dome no longer spoke to me. In fact, nothing did. But still I scanned, hunting light. Except the runes had gone dark as well. Hmm. Except, maybe, that one carved into a tree trunk, in the center of a clearing.

I dove fast, muscles protesting when I crash-landed on a carpet of crushed shells. But there, gouged into the bark, waited a message.

He gave me this before the ceremony and asked me to give it to you if anything went wrong.

Love,

Granny

Tears welled again. He’d taken measures to ensure my safety.

A faint pulse beat beneath the message. He’d given me a rune. Half-buried, no bigger than my palm, glowing faintly. Heart thundering, I traced my finger over the lines etched into the bark. Ja! Its power reached for me.

Blood-forged. Realm-bound. Survival entwined.

Sebastian’s contingency plan. “Hello, my friend,” I said, pressing my hand to it, and letting it pull. And pull it did. I came through into a world of blue. The cave. Our cave, where Sebastian had pressed my back to the wall and asked me to marry him and burned his handprint into my chest. The chamber stretched further than it should have, further than the mountain that held it, blue in every direction until the edges dissolved. Above and around me the walls carried the whole of Krakenströnd. The dome. The currents sliding over it. The kelp forests. Villages linked by winding shell roads.

I set my jaw. “Show him to me.”

Harpa believed I could win him back. So, I would watch and learn, and then I would plan.

I watched him for six days.

I ate rations either Harpa or Sebastian had left in a bag, and cat-napped only when my body shut down of its own accord. Every second of every day that I was awake, I stood before those walls watching my husband, learning him all over again.