It had been an hour or two since supper, and Kelia had never been in worse pain than what she was suffering through now.

She was stripped of the gown she had been wearing, save for the corset and the shift. No longer did she stay in the luxurious bedroom she had been offered when she first arrived; rather, she was in a part of the manor that had a prison underneath everything. There was no bed, no place for her to relieve herself, and no window so she could not see the passage of time. It was permanently black, which was fine for the Shadows because of their ability to see in the dark without any assistance.

For Kelia, though, she could see nothing. It reminded her what it might be like if she was buried alive in a casket with no way to get out. It also reminded her that she was trapped.

She expected torture. Every Sea Shadow she came in contact with who mentioned the Queen all reiterated the same thing: the Queen was vindictive and would get her revenge. They promised Kelia would regret ever meeting Drew Knight.

But to poison her?

Why the facade? Why feed her? Kelia already knew what to expect, so why would the Queen hide her intentions? Unless this was just a game to the Queen. Unless this was her own form of torture.

The poison still worked its way through her system. What felt like every hour or so, if not more often, she threw up blood and stomach acid. There was no food left in her system, and though the hunger doubled the pain, and the Shadows who guarded her cell regularly set out food and water, Kelia feared the fresh food and water would also be poisoned.

But eventually, her hunger got the better of her. She could not help but nibble on the sustenance provided. It was not as though not eating would rid her of this curse; the Queen had said the poison’s effects would last until Kelia died.

Eating more poisoned food, however, did her no favors. It only put more poison in her system.

The Queen visited often, but mostly only to berate her, or give her a slap or kick to her ribs before storming off again. Kelia had endured greater pain when Rycroft had given her the lashings. But once Drew showed up, Kelia knew the Queen would increase the intensity from abuse to outright torture, and for that reason, part of Kelia hoped Drew would never come.

Lying on the cold, hard floor, Kelia’s body was littered with goose bumps. It was even colder in the brig, and as a human, she did not appreciate the cold as much as a Shadow's might. It made her tense and sluggish.

Her fingers traced mindless patterns in the floor. She didn’t have the energy to do anything else, not after so recently throwing up. She had to save her energy for puking spells. To drag herself to the corner of her cell where she released all her bodily fluids in one place.

At first, the smell itself made her stomach churn when the poison didn’t do it, but after the first day, she had grown used to the stench.

During her waking hours, she prayed to the god she didn’t believe in that Drew would not come. She did not want him to risk himself, and she did not want him to see her like this. But when she slept, she could not help but dream of him rescuing her. The risk was too great, however; Kelia didn’t want Drew anywhere near the Queen, did not want the Queen to even look at Drew.

Kelia had made this sacrifice to keep him safe. She’d been able to save Wendy, or at least buy her some time. Perhaps it was not physical skill or speed, but she still had some power left.

Now, if only she could fall asleep and somehow wake up in Drew's arms. That would be magic unto itself.

It did not take long for Daniella to conjure up the fireballs. She had been practicing nearly every day since Kelia and Drew had rescued her from that wretched Port George and the Society that tried and failed to inhibit her power. Fire was the only thing she could do well, and when she played with it, she could not help but feel as though she, too, came alive just as the tiny spark did.

Emma stood just behind Daniella, observing, while Wendy—still in the same clothes she had been wearing when they were on the Isle of the Damned—was on Daniella's other side, her body hunched but her fingers splayed, ready to assist. They were still on the ship, waiting for the opportune moment.

Daniella stood at portside of the ship, and Drew Knight stomped around behind her, pacing up and down the deck. Drew knew it probably intimidated her, but he could not control how he felt. At least stomping was a safe way to release his inner turmoil.

Once Daniella had done her part, it would rest on Drew.

He would be the one who retrieved Kelia.

"Are we ready?" Drew asked, pacing over to the witches. "The sun is making its descent. We only have so much time. My crew will be up by then, and if any are going to betray me like two already have, we need to do this now so Kelia can be safely onboard, the ship can start to sail, and I can handle it when I return."

Drew followed Daniella’s gaze as she glanced at the sky. The sun was starting to trek toward the horizon, painting a pretty trail behind it. It was just after three o'clock in the afternoon, which meant they had less than three hours before the sun would set and the crew awoke.

"Do you know if the Shadows are sleeping on the island?" Daniella asked, flexing her fingers.

"Do not worry about that."Drew could not waste time with questions, even if they were reasonable. "Create your fire and make sure this island burns."

He bounced from one foot to the next, as though unable to relax the energy bubbling up inside of him.

"Don’t be such an ass, Drew," Wendy said without looking at him. "Just get yourself ready so we can start this. Focus on your job, and we'll focus on ours."

Drew growled, muttering something under his breath. He was surprised no one seemed to have sounded an alarm to their presence. Guards were still patrolling from what he could see. No one was running and fussing. Strange.

Wendy gently nudged Daniella with her shoulder. "Ready?"

Daniella nodded. She inhaled through her nose and held her breath, her eyes closing. She opened her eyes and stretched out her hands, making the ball of flames that snapped to life in her hands bigger.

She was ready.

She blasted the first ball of fire toward the island, but instead of hitting its mark, it sailed over the island and hit the sea on the other side. Drew let out a huff but said nothing.

This was going to take time.

Time they didn’t have.

From the moment the sun set, Drew’s anxiety doubled. They should have already hit the land with fire. He did not want them to be on the island at night. Every second that passed was another second Kelia was another second closed to Kelia’s death, if she wasn’t dead already. And every second that passed was another moment a Shadow could report their presence to the Queen and stop their plan before it even started.

He needed to get to Kelia. Even if it meant dying himself, he would rescue her from that evil bitch.

Daniella tried again. The balls of flames needed to be perfect. Wendy's wind needed to be perfect. Hours had passed, and the fire missed its mark or Wendy's wind snuffed it out before it could hit. They were not even close to hitting the island.

Drew positioned himself once more. If he was quick enough, he might be able to pull off running on water the short distance to the docks. He could make it.

He had to make it.

Another blast cracked the silence, and Drew jumped. The fire hit its mark just next to the manor. Flames spread immediately across the nearby brush.

Drew ran across the water. But just as he made it to the wooden dock, a hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him under.

Kelia opened her eyes. She blinked once, her head starting to pound. Apparently, she had fallen asleep. Her skin was still pinched with goosebumps, and she slowly sat up, letting out a pained groan as she did so. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Something had tickled it, something that made her believe she was going to sneeze.

No matter.

She did not need to sneeze.

The slow footsteps of her guards shuffled outside her cell. There were only two of them, as far as she could tell, but they took their job incredibly serious. They did not both leave Kelia at the same time. Instead, they marched back and forth, back and forth. Kelia hated herself for it, but the sound of their footsteps provided an odd sort of comfort. She was not truly alone. Not yet, anyway.

Something tickled her nose once again, and she stretched out her torso. The gesture was too quick, and she reached up to grab the side of her head. Her stomach pinched, and she could not help but hunch over, one hand dropping from her head to rest on the floor, giving her the balance she needed to hold herself up.

Something smelled different.

She paused and waited. She recognized the scent.

Smoke.

She sat up straighter. Why would there be smoke?

"Cyan," one of the guards said. "Do you smell that?"

A pause.

"Could it be the servants cooking?"

"What happened the last time a servant burned something, and the Queen found out about it?"

Kelia felt a shudder rip across her body at the question.

"I highly doubt it's cooking."

"What else could it be?"

“We should go see what's going on."

"The Queen gave us one order: never leave the cell. Anyone could break the lock and take her."

"Do you really think anyone on this island would risk doing such a thing? Betraying the Queen with nowhere to go, surely to be hunted down even if you did succeed? Are you daft? We need to see if they need help upstairs. If a fire did start, they might need assistance in putting it out."

"Isn't that what the blasted Lycans are for? So we don't have to put ourselves at risk?"

"You stay here, then,” the first guard said. “I'm not going to risk my Queen and her safety."

"She has not called us through the Bond."

"Perhaps she is not able to. Besides, you leave to collect food for the girl all the time. Why is it always me who must stay down here at all times?”

There was a tense silence between the men.

Something crashed outside, near where Kelia had been placed, and the ground shook. The guards dashed away, no more than bright streaks, and disappeared upstairs, perhaps to ensure their beloved Queen was safe. Kelia positioned herself in the corner, hoping to ease the tension in her back.

Kelia’s stomach twisted, and she heaved, but there was nothing in her left to throw up; her last meal had been hours ago, and she had only sipped some water. Everything she hacked up now was part of her insides in some way. How long would she be able to survive if she continued to throw up blood? The Queen said she would not die, but it certainly did not feel as though she would survive this.

When she finally finished the current bout of sickness, she moved away from the corner and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She hated the aftertaste nearly as much as she hated the actual act of throwing up. She rested against the cool wall and caught her breath.

The smoke nearly suffocated her. She didn’t know where it was, but it must have been close. Part of her worried she would get caught up in the flames, but another part of her didn’t care. If she did perish this way, Drew would be free to do what he wanted. He would not be obligated to save her life or to risk himself for her.

She nearly cracked a smile at the thought. What a bloody fool she had become simply because she loved Drew Knight.

At that moment, the door ripped open, and someone raced down the steps. Kelia could not even blink before the lock to her cell was broken, crumbling like brittle bone. The door creaked as someone yanked it open. She was swooped into arms she could not even see since he was moving so quickly, but she knew his scent.

Drew was here. Drew had her.

She had so many questions and a lecture on the tip of her tongue, but instead of distracting him from his goal, she pressed her lips into a tight line and clung tightly to him. She was still so tired, she doubted she would be able to say anything at all.

In all honesty, she did not expect they would make it off the island. Certainly, if the Queen didn’t stop them herself, some of her many Shadows would.

The moment they were outside, a nearby fire cracked and snapped loudly, the heat rolling in waves. She popped open her eye, but the smoke pinched her skin, and it was hard to make out anything. All she knew was that the manor was surrounded by flames and ash.

Which meant Sea Shadows were dying.

“How did I know you would come for her?”

The voice was smooth and silky like Drew’s bedsheets. Kelia’s stomach clenched, but she swallowed down any illness. Her grip on Drew tightened.

“Move, Karina.”

Another ball of flames hit just behind the Queen, giving her a look as if she just stepped out of the gates of Hell. Kelia blinked. It was difficult for her to keep her eyes open.

“You know I will find you both,” the Queen said, taking a step closer to them.

“I imagine you must save your precious magic house before it burns to the ground,” Drew said.

“I’m sure one of your friends will be able to assist in bewitching it again, if I need it,” the Queen said.

Kelia frowned. What did that mean?

“Time is ticking and your Shadows are turning to dust,” Drew pointed out. “You can take us, certainly. Or you can save your home. The choice is yours.”

Kelia could have been imagining itm but she thought she saw the Queen clench her jaw. She wondered, briefly, why there weren’t Shadows surrounding them, preventing their escape, until she realized they were either dying or attempting to save the home.

“I will find you.” Her words were crisp and cool, completely unbothered by everything going on. “Mark me, I will. And I will break her in front of you so you feel a fraction of what I’m feeling now.”

“And I will kill you,” Drew said. “Mark me, I will snuff out your life so you are nothing more than the dirt under my fingernails.”

The Queen’s lips curved up. “I always liked being underneath you.”

Drew growled and quickly maneuvered around her. The Queen did not try to stop them.

“I’ve got you,” Drew mumbled. “I’ve got you.”

The low tumbled of his voice was enough for her to feel safe, to let down her guard and finally give in to the temptation of slumber.

It had happened in less than two minutes. He’d kicked the Siren in the face and pulled himself back up and onto the dock. More Sirens reached for him, but he was too fast, on land and running before another of the sea witches could grab him.

From there, he continued on, not bothering to look back, to grab Kelia.

He found her in a cell, picked her up, and ran back to the Wraith, every moment thinking death could steal them. Ash was everywhere.

Daniella had shot two more balls of fire by the time Drew returned to the ship with Kelia in his arms. Another set of flames set fire to the docks as Drew turned to Wendy.

"We need to leave," he insisted. "Now."

“You know I cannot catch a wind if there is no wind,” Wendy said.

“You are a goddamn air witch, Wendy,” Drew roared. “What good are you, if you cannot even use the wind to move a goddamn ship.”

“Don’t give me attitude, Drew Knight,” Wendy snapped. “I’ll do what I can for Kelia. Right now, you’re being a bastard.”

"She's been poisoned," Emma said from next to Drew. Her nostrils flared. "I can smell it."

Drew set Kelia on the bed and raked his fingers through his hair. Poison. That was not something he had expected.

"What do I do?" Drew asked, ripping his eyes away from Kelia so he could look up at Emma. "Can you brew something?"

"There is no cure," Emma said, her tone soft.

Drew shook his head. "What?" His eyes burned. "No, no, no, no. There must be something—"

"She’s in great pain," Emma said, her voice delicate. “She can’t stop vomiting, even if she does not eat. The blood crusted by her mouth, do you see? She is throwing up her own blood, and she will not stop."

"Stop telling me what’s wrong, and tell me how to fix it!”

"I’m sorry," Emma said, her voice a sympathetic whisper. "There’s no—”

“There must be something," he shouted desperately, throwing out his hands. He started to walk up and down the ship.

“Drew.” Emma was firm, but there was sadness in her voice. “No human can survive this. I’m sorry. The best we can do is ease her pain.”

Drew stopped pacing. He swallowed and shifted his gaze back to Kelia. “No human can survive this?”

Emma nodded.

“No human can survive this,” he repeated again. “I could...I could change her?” He shook his head. "I hated the Queen when she changed me without my consent—”

"I’m afraid I can’t advise you on this one," Emma said. “But I can make something for her pain.”

"Out." Drew nodded to the door. "Go. Now."

Emma did not argue and disappeared.

The minute the door clicked shut, Drew plopped on the bed next to Kelia. He wiped an errant strand of hair away from her face. Tears sprung into his eyes and he dropped his head so it grazed against her forehead.

"Forgive me, my love," he whispered—a plea. He knew Kelia would never forgive him for this. But at least she would be alive to hate him for it.

And then, he extracted his fangs and plunged them into Kelia's neck.