The Sea Siren

Chapter Fifty-Four

Antony

My boots slam into the unstable deck of the Orion with a thud.

Smoke coats my throat, hot air carrying from fires scattered along the giant vessel. The roar of the ship taking on the weight of the ocean is too deafening to hear my crew screaming out my name anymore. I grab onto the edge, peering down into the water, seeing her gang gaping, thrashing in protest as they are collected from the water, their eyes on me.

Pleadingly on me.

The ash irritates my eyes as I turn, recoiling when a barrel of gunpowder blasts, the gust slamming me onto my back in an explosive rush.

I see white—momentarily blind.

Fuck.

My body, already exhausted from fighting, protests when I try to move. I shake my head, refusing to stop, one constant thought on my mind.

Her.

I cough, twisting onto my side. "Vivian—"

My weakness is secondary to ensuring her heart beats past the hour.

With persistence, I climb onto my feet as black smoke drapes over everything within sight. My insides plummet, sickened. Unable to see my way around, even unable to see where their extensive explosives and gunpowder lay at waste, I try to remember the layout of her ship.

This placed we shared.

If I were smart, truly a son of a king, I'd turn around. I'd jump into the waters and return to capture her band of pirates and leave her to her fate. It only dawns on me now, as I'm finally faced with that choice, that there's no desire within me, and maybe never was, to play the role of Commander in this fateful moment.

From the moment I met her, I've repelled against the idea.

It had to have been for a reason.

Enemy or not, my choice is made as I rush into the blazes, covering my face as I bellow her name, extending my arm until I feel solid wood. Splintered and scalding to the touch, I take one step and then the next, until my boots become submerged in water.

My eyes widen slowly, realizing.

I'm staring at her door, already half submerged. It's nearly closed.

I look down at the stairs, at the rising water, hearing a ghastly sound. I grab onto the walls where I can as the ship rattles violently, gasping before jumping into the water, pushing myself through the hallway, pretending I don't see the images of us pressed against it, drinking each other in.

With everything within me telling me to leave her—it's what she wants—I can't.

It suffocates me even imagine it.

Not while I breathe.

She can hate me all she wants. I can live with that.

Reaching for her doorframe, I feel a sharp jolt—before floor sinks underneath me, water surging to my chest.

I can't breathe.

As my heart pounds against my chest, I turn to look at the deck, at the cloud plume of smoke, at the water now pouring into the staircase and I realize the choice I make if I enter this room.

There's no going back.

Hundreds of images flash through my mind in seconds, some of my life until now, some I've conjured up out of thin air.

It's the ones that lack her presence that make me push open the door with every ounce of might inside of me. The ones where I'm alone, left to endure a world where I killed the woman I love.