Between Tides Thunder(123)

Water rises from the ground, thin ribbons, frozen into serrated shards, at least thirty of them.

All aimed at Zev’s back.

No. No.

I dart across the clearing, pumping my legs faster than they’ve ever moved, arm raised to command the water. I manage to slow their trajectory, melting a few of the shards, but the waterwielder doubles down.

A sickening squelch. Zev kills his opponent.

He turns.

I fling myself in front of him, blunting some shards, melting others. But there are too many, too fast. Two serrated shards pierce my flesh, one embedding in my shoulder, the other in my thigh. A strangled cry tears from my mouth, and I crash backward into Zev.

He catches me. He always catches me.

Lightning crashes down with a fearsome roar—I’m not sure if the sound is thunder or if it’s Zev. The metallic stench of burned flesh invades my nostrils. The wielder’s unrecognizable body falls to the ground.

Zev whirls me around. “Fucking Skies, Mayah,” he growls, wild eyes scanning my injuries. “I told you to let me handle it.” I’ve grown accustomed to him being angry with me, but there’s a desperate sense of fear undercutting it now.

“You were about to be impaled,” I mutter, breaths shallow. “I couldn’t just watch.”

He’s panting hard. I can almost taste his rage in the air. “If something happened to you, then—”

“Then what?” I whisper, hope fluttering in my chest, even as my wounds bleed. “If something happened to me, then what?”

He cradles my face, pressing his forehead to mine.

“I—”

Zev freezes, the words dying on his lips.

My brows furrow, mouth poised to ask him what’s wrong.

Then—“You’ve always been a disappointment, Daughter.”

My blood freezes in my veins.

“But I never expected this from you.”





CHAPTER EIGHTY




HIS WORDS PUNCH THE air from my lungs. Father stands before us, moonlight casting sinister shadows across his face.

He looks every bit the monster I know him to be.

“Why are you here?” I snarl, teeth bared. “To kill me?”

Pain sears through my shoulder and thigh, Zev’s arm snaked protectively around my waist.

For a long moment, Father regards me, his expression unreadable. “No.” He clasps his hands behind his back. “To take you home.”

Zev’s grip tightens around me, a ripple coursing through him.

“You’re lying,” I hiss. “The warriors are trying to kill me.”

“Hmm,” he muses, as if we’re discussing dinner. “Perhaps they can’t forgive what you did at the camp.” Father raises a hand skyward. Thunder rumbles. “Perhaps … I can’t either.”

Tides freeze the blood in his veins.

“I don’t want your forgiveness,” I spit, taking a wobbling step forward, gritting my teeth against the pain in my shoulder and thigh. “You should be begging for mine.”

“For what exactly?” he asks, his voice cold as ice.

Zev steps in front of me, but I push against his back.

“No.” Hot, angry tears blur my vision. “I do this alone.”

Zev’s jaw clenches tight, but he reluctantly moves aside.

I open my mouth—

—and Father attacks.

A thick stream of water tunnels through the air toward my chest.

But I’m ready.

A wave of my hand. It splashes to the ground.

"Tell me, my ungrateful daughter,” Father bites out. “What are your grievances?”

“You murdered my mother!” I shoot an ice spear at his head, steeling myself against the burn in my thigh. He avoids it easily. Blood seeps down my leg. “You lied about it for years! Manipulated me into becoming your weapon!” Water flows over his legs and freezes. A serrated shard barrels toward his neck.

All melted away.

“You tortured me with countless fucking storms, left me alone to suffer through them!”

Cold rage crashes against my ribs, even as my leg threatens to buckle. An ice spear cuts a sharp line across Father’s cheek, sending satisfaction blooming in my chest. But my attacks are coming slower, consuming more energy. I don’t have much left in me.

“You’re weak,” Father snarls. “You’ve always been weak. A tidescursed disappointment. Always wanting more. Embarrassing me in council meetings with your pathetic pleas for commons. So much like your mother. I gave you everything.” I barely avoid the ice spear careening toward my head.

“You gave me NOTHING!” I scream, the words tearing from my raw throat.

Off to the side, Zev stands ready—every line of him coiled, sword drawn—but he doesn’t move. Thunder roars in the sky, but I don’t know if it’s my husband or my father.

“I gave you Daak,” Father says, his voice a lethal purr.

The air rushes from my lungs.

“You think I wasn’t aware of what was happening in my own palace?” he continues. “I only allowed it because Daak swore to keep your virtue intact.”

Bile scorches the back of my throat.

“You’re lying,” I hiss. Fatigue weights my limbs. It’s a struggle to remain upright.