Page 45 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

Another thud strikes the ship. My hands slip out from under me, and my cheekbone strikes the planks.

“Ah!” I grunt.

Shouts pierce the darkness. The creature expels another chilling roar.

Wood creaks. I tilt my head back and scream when a tentacle wraps around the ship’s center mast and snaps it in half.

I scramble to my feet and run, praying to Velmira that it’s not my time to enter her domain and I can escape the falling beam before it crushes my skull.

Sailors shout. I reach the railing and spin around, back pressed against the hard wood as the mast rushes toward the deck.

My muscles tense as I brace for the crash, but shadows cushion its landing before tossing the massive beam overboard.

A shuddering breath escapes me.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then a man standing in the middle of the ship stares at something over my shoulder. Blood drains from his face.

He throws out a shaking hand and cries, “Pelagor!”

I push off the railing and turn.

Time slows.

The creature rises from the sea like a nightmare given flesh. Six massive eyes blink open in its slick, black head. Tentacles slam onto the deck, curling around the rails, dripping seawater and gore. The ship tilts under its weight.

Screams erupt around me.

I stumble backward, scanning for something—anything—to hold on to.

The monster’s eyes find me.

“Shit!” My boot catches on my sodden skirt, and my hip hits the deck with a painful thud.

On my butt, I shuffle back, heart racing and ears pounding. The creature’s maw splits open, revealing two enormous fangs gleaming under the lightning. Its shriek rattles my bones. A tentacle snaps toward me.

I can’t move. I can’t⁠—

A flash of blue light arcs in the corner of my eye.

No, not light. A blade.

The sword cleaves through a tentacle two feet from my face. The severed limb crashes to the deck, twitching.

A shape materializes in front of me—shadows and rain coalescing into a man.

Rian.

He stands between me and the monster, sword glowing, rain cascading down his shoulders.

“Stay down,” he growls. “Before you catch the monster’s attention again.”

Rian severs another tentacle. Black blood sprays across the deck, thick and steaming. I fight the urge to gag.

He keeps going.

The Shadow Prince moves like a storm given form—fluid, merciless as he glides across the deck. Each swing of his sword cuts through flesh like it's little more than air. The blue blade burns brighter, reflecting in his eyes, in the rain, in the water pooling around our feet as he assaults the monster.