Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Seraphina

“You punch like a girl,” Killian says, rubbing his jaw to ease the sharp, shooting pain.

Our boots shuffle in the hot sand as we dance in circles, fists raised. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hit you too hard? I’ll go easy on you in the next round.” 

He grins, but his ocean-blue eyes are riddled with mischief. “Easy? Who said I asked you to go soft on me? We’re not kids anymore, Seri.” He strikes, but I dodge him with ease.

I wipe off the beads of sweat dripping down my forehead, and the warm tropical breeze momentarily relieves me from the heat. I should have worn a lighter tunic instead of the usual tight corset and thick, billowing sleeves. Most of my clothes are dark maroons, deep reds, and midnight black, which makes hiding bloodstains easier.

“You did when you hesitated to throw the first punch. So I took it upon myself to teach you how it’s done.” 

He scoffs, and I know he’s just trying to get me riled up and lose focus. 

I flick my braid off my shoulder. “What? Are you butt hurt that a girl bested you in a fistfight?”

“Of course not. But I wouldn’t think of you as a girl. You are more like a wild, blonde beast disguised as a pretty young woman.” His tight smirk reveals his prominent dimples as he winks.

“You think I’m pretty?” I tease. 

“Where did this giant ego of yours come from?” He says jokingly, but there’s a tinge of truth behind his question.

“I think being raised by a man who has framed portraits of himself hung throughout his great chamber really rubbed off on me.” I bat my eyes, “Do you think I should get a portrait of myself painted? Just imagine me, drenched in jewels and a fine silk dress.” 

Killian’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, “Ha! You, in a gown? Now that’s something I’d love to see.” 

“What? You don’t think I would look fetching in a ball gown?” I said, aware that my patched clothes and lack of wealth would argue otherwise. I may not fit in with the ladies of the ton on the mainland, but I appreciate delicate dresses and jewels�"alongside my less genteel pursuits.

“The great Assassin of Astoria, Daughter of the most feared Pirate Lord in all the Seas and Heir to the Pirate Throne, wants to play dress up for a day?” He springs around me and takes me into a chokehold. 

I jab him in the shoulder. Hard. 

He loosens his grip, and I squirm out of his arms.

“Ouch!” He’s still smiling, but I’m feeling more annoyed with him by the minute.

"You know I hate that title," I said, halting our sparring, my irritation growing.

“Seraphina, you have been chosen by the Captain to be his daughter. He found you in the Jungle, abandoned and lost. He took you in as one of his own. You should be proud and honored to have such a title.” We stop moving and relax our fighting stances. “Unlike you, I had to work hard to be his second in command. It wasn’t easy, but-” He scratches his head, smiling softly as if he understood my complicated relationship with my father. “-I learned that never contradicting him and staying loyal will guarantee rewards. I was just a boy who mopped the decks, and now I’m managing all operations.” His brows furrow, his breath is faint, “They…respect me.”

There’s this slight look on his face as if he’s trying to convince himself that he’s satisfied with his position. But by the looks of it, maybe he’s not. 

Insinuating that I should be grateful to be The Captain’s daughter frustrates me more than Killian would ever understand.

And I especially don't need to earn anyone's respect. Nor do I care. 

If only he knew the truth about our fearful leader, Captain Auberon, I bet he would think much differently than he does now. But I know how much he looks up to my father, and I won’t take that away from him. So, I will allow him to remain ignorant only because I care about him and him alone.

"Enough. I came here to spar, not be lectured," I said sharply, gesturing to continue.

I came out here with Killian to distract myself from reality�"not spend the entire afternoon hearing about this illusion of power and title.

“Just think about it. I’m on your side, Seri.” Killian agrees, and we resume our stances.

I strike, aiming for his ribs. Killian quickly steps to the left, and I miss him, only hitting his arm. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a bruise, but he will certainly be sore later in the evening. 

Serves him right for crossing my boundaries. 

“I’m constantly surrounded by incompetent male pirates back at the cove and in The City,” I grumble, my frustration apparent as I roll my eyes, crack my knuckles, and stretch out my neck.

Killian raises a brow, “Excluding me, right?” He looks at me like a puppy faking its wound for a treat. 

I must have said that louder than I thought. 

I shrug, and the pitch of my voice rises, “Depends.” He’s smart enough to figure out the answer without my help. 

It's better to leave others questioning their worth than to let them think they hold all the power.

Even if we are lifelong friends, I love keeping him on his toes.

“Depends? Depends on what exactly?” 

My statement catches him off guard, so I throw a fist full of sand in his face. He stumbles back, and I sweep him from under his feet. His back slams onto the floor, and I pounce on top of him. One arm holds him by the collar of his shirt, and the other is up in the air, fist clenched, waiting for him to yield.

“You’re such a cheat!” he exclaims, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Only because you make it so easy. Think of it as strategic improvisation,” I reply, flashing a teasing smile.

He waves his hands in surrender, and I release my grip and climb off of him. We stand and dust the sand off our clothes.

“That’s two for two. Would you care to make it three for three?”

“I don’t think my fragile ego can handle getting my a*s handed to me for a third time.” He combs his fingers through his wavy chestnut hair, “but I’m counting on a rematch tomorrow.” He points at me, catching his breath.

“Alright, let’s make things more interesting. Swords or daggers?” I unlace my knee-high boots and shake out the irritating sand that’s made it into every crevice during our sparring session.

“Is that a trick question? Swords, obviously.” A dimple forms as he grins.

Damn, I was hoping for daggers. He’s the best when it comes to sword duels.

The sun is beating down on us, but the glittering ocean tide pools near our feet. The ocean is beckoning me to relax and submerge myself into the crystal clear waters to cool off. But that will have to wait for another day.

“Care for a swim?” Killian gestures towards the ocean.

I slump down into the sand to take a seat. “I would love to, but I have some business to take care of.” 

He crouches beside me, dipping his head as he crosses his long arms and rests them on his knees. His loose white sleeves hang and flow in the soft, warm breeze while his sun-bleached brown curls veil his disappointment.

I glance down and notice the veins of his hands becoming prominent under his golden tan skin as he squeezes them into fists. 

Is he… upset? 

He has known about my “late-night excursions” since we met. I know he has never fully been accepting of my line of work and pretends that that side of me doesn't exist. And I’ve always been okay with it. Murder is not in his blood, but it was destined to be in mine. 

I wonder what's on his mind, but I choose to look back at the sea and leave him be.

I fiddle with the corners of the small piece of paper jammed into my side pocket. Its edges are frayed and torn.

Last night, The Captain had one of his men deliver a folded piece of paper to my quarters, which I found slid underneath my door. It was sealed with his signet in red wax. The symbol of the Island of the Damned, also known as Astoria, marked the seal. The Captain's signet, depicting an ancient sea serpent impaled by seven swords, is prominently displayed on the flags of his ships and on the golden ring that never leaves his finger. The seven swords represent the Seven Isles of Nyseros. 

The only thing written on it was a name and where they’ll be tonight. 

I stop picking at the dried wax, the red pigment stained underneath my nails. I shove my boots back on and rise from the sands. 

“We should head back now, our duties await us.” I reach out my hand for him to grab and he takes it. 

Walking back in the direction where Crimson Cove awaits us, the towering palm trees cast their shadows upon us, saving us from the rising heat. I take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scents of the calm salty breeze. We walk in silence for a while, so I soak in the familiar surroundings and observe the thriving life around us. 

The beach is buzzing with life�"coconuts sprawled out along the ground, some cracked open and infested with bugs. A cast of small, bright blue crabs scurry towards the sea, all but one moving frantically.

As the gentle tides pull them into the sea, the smallest of the bunch struggles to catch up with them. I watch it collapse, its legs shaking to stand back up. 

That’s when I notice that he’s missing a leg. The rest of the cast has disappeared by now, and if it doesn’t catch up, he’ll be left for dead. I spot a flock of sea birds circling above the helpless crab, readying to dive for their lunch. 

I decide to turn around and help it. 

Killian hasn’t even noticed the crab on the beach and looks back at me in confusion.

I gently pick up the fragile baby crab in the palm of my calloused hands without crushing his shell. I take another deep breath and close my eyes, feeling the pulse of life that beats within this crab. Its heart is weak. So, I pull a thread of silver from the rushing river stream of magic that lives within me and give it to the crab. A faint glow of white light appears where the crab’s leg would be missing. But now his leg is whole again. 

I walk over to the tide and dip my hands into the water to release him. Every new life deserves a chance, no matter how small. 

It’s sometimes nice to take a break from being constantly shrouded by death. It reminds me to ground myself�"that I am one with the land and sea. 

Humans see things differently�"they don’t respect the balance of nature. They know how to conquer, corrupt, and disrupt the scales. I know not all are like this, but from personal experience, I believe most of them are. 

Killian breaks the silence as I walk back to him.

“You use your healing powers for a crab’s leg?” He looks at me bewildered.

“It was wounded and needed help,” I pout, disheartened that he would rather let the poor crab die than offer it mercy. Maybe it’s for the best he wasn’t born with magic�"though humans aren’t even capable of wielding such powers. Mortal men are easily corrupted by power, which is why I am the last Fae left on this Island. They couldn’t bear the idea that the Fae were chosen for such gifts and not them, so they killed us all. Except for me. The Captain had chosen to spare me from the gallows.

“That’s nice and all, but whenever I have a broken bone or split lip, you never heal me.” 

I lightly nudge him on the shoulder, “If you would stop getting in the way of other people's business and trying to play hero, you wouldn't have any injuries for me to heal in the first place,” I retort, “And you know that human bodies are more complicated for me to heal. I’ve only practiced on small animals.” I sigh and fiddle with my braid.

“Yeah, I know, I’m just pulling your wing.” He side eyes me waiting for me to respond to his silly pun. 

I can’t help but fake a laugh at his stupid joke. “Funny.” I grin and roll my eyes.

“You never really use them anymore. I haven’t seen you in your true form for years. Is everything alright?” 

“The Captain prefers that I conceal my Fae form in public, especially when I’m on the job, so people won’t recognize me. Besides, my wings would draw too much attention if I have them out on the job which, as you know, entails great subtlety.” 

“He’s certainly been keeping you busy lately.” He changes the topic swiftly.

When I look up at him, I catch a slight twitch in his eye. There must be something bothering him if he can’t even handle the mention of my job. Should I press on and see if he’ll say something, or leave it be? 

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I shrug my shoulders, “Besides, this time will be different.” I unsheathe and fiddle with my little dagger, twirling it around my fingers. Killian stares in amazement at the trick that he could never figure out how to do. 

The smooth sand slows our pace, and we take our time walking. The sun is at its peak, and once the night arrives and the moon is alive, I will be lurking in the shadows.

“Different? How so?” He looks up at me, then back at my dagger, his great blue eyes flickering with slight concern.

A smile quirks at the edge of my mouth. “Oh, it’s nothing of great importance. I’ve just planned a small surprise for my father�"a gift of appreciation for all he’s done for me.”

“That’s uncharacteristically thoughtful of you,” he raises a brow in suspicion, but his face softens. “But I’m glad you’ve considered my words and wish to improve your relationship with your father.” He pats me on the shoulder and turns to look at me with a pleased grin.