POV: Beth
War doesn't begin with swords.
It begins with breath.
Cold, sharp, stolen from the lungs of every man on deck as Silas stepped forward from the fog—and Alaric met him like a beast finally unchained. No words. No warnings. Just steel.
Their blades collided with a crack that cut through my bones. I ran forward, but Kaine grabbed my arm.
“Stay back—”
“I can help—”
“You’ll die in that crossfire.”
He wasn't wrong.
The world exploded at once—Silas’s ships swung hooks over our rails, pirates poured like rabid wolves. Steel met steel. Cannon fire cracked the night apart. Blood splashed across decks like dark paint on broken wood.
Two kings, one ocean.
Alaric fought like he had nothing left to lose—savage, fast, reckless. Every strike screamed history. Betrayal. Pride. Love twisted into something monstrous.
Silas moved like storm incarnate—elegant and merciless. His blade didn’t clash—it glided, sliced, redirected. He fought with purpose. Alaric fought with rage.
And I—
I couldn’t breathe.
Flames roared along the sails. Our mast cracked. Men screamed as they fell into black water. Mira fought beside Kaine, knives flashing. Karn dragged wounded to the stern. Clove, still pale from capture, loaded cannons with shaking hands.
Everything crumbled.
Silas slashed across Alaric’s ribs—a bloom of red. Alaric staggered, gripping wound, teeth bared in defiant grin.
“That all you got?” he spat.
Silas’s eyes flashed pain—deep, personal.
“You were my brother once.”
“And you threw me to wolves.”
“No,” Silas whispered like heartbreak, “you made yourself prey.”
They clashed again—fiercer, faster—sparks raining like stars. I moved without thinking, grabbing a cutlass from the floor, blocking a pirate who lunged at me. I swung—messy, desperate—but blade met flesh. Blood sprayed my face. I didn’t have time to scream about it.
This was war. No time for innocence.
More boarded us. Arrows rained. Cannon smoke burned my lungs. Kraken’s shadow drifted under waves—massive, dark, alive—a nightmare waiting to surface. The sea churned like a heartbeat under the hull, too loud, too close.
A pirate charged me—blade raised. I parried, barely. He knocked me back, cut my shoulder. Pain exploded but I held my stance. I drove my dagger up into his throat. Warmth splattered. He fell.
My hands trembled—but didn’t let go.
I looked up—and my heart stopped.
Silas slammed Alaric onto the deck, sword at his throat.
Alaric bled from shoulder, arm shaking, breath ragged. But his stare was defiant to the end.
“If this is how I die,” he rasped, “then I die looking him in the eyes.”
Silas’s jaw trembled. “You fool.”
He raised his sword for the killing strike.
“NO!”
I screamed, running, but reality bent.
The sea answered.
The ocean beneath us rippled. Groaned. Then split like a mouth opening to hell.
Something rose.
Not a beast—a god.
The Kraken.
Tentacles thicker than masts tore through waves, slamming ships like toys. Wood shattered. Men flew into the air like broken dolls. One tentacle coiled around a ship and crushed it in one slow squeeze—screams drowned in salt.
Everyone froze. Even Silas.
Kraken’s eye surfaced—massive, golden, staring through time itself—and locked onto me.
My knees nearly buckled.
It recognized me.
And I—with blood burning like wildfire—recognized it.
Magic surged up my veins like lightning striking bone. Not gentle. Violent. Terrifying.
The air around me crackled. Hair lifted. The deck glowed with runes only I could see. Waves roared my name.
Beth.
Beth.
BETH.
Silas stared at me like he saw a star explode.
Alaric stared like he saw the end of the world.
I lifted my hand—not thinking—just instinct. Something ancient inside me screamed awake. The ocean bent like a spine bowing in worship.
Kraken lunged toward our burning deck—ready to crush everything—but I screamed back.
“STOP!”
My voice wasn’t mine. It was thunder wearing my skin.
The Kraken halted mid-strike.
Tentacle suspended inches from Alaric’s head.
Silas’s sword shook. Alaric’s chest rose in one staggered inhale—disbelief breaking through pain.
I stepped forward—barefoot on burning wood—clothes soaked in blood and seawater. Flames reflected in Kraken’s eye like crown jewels.
I pointed at the beast.
“My blood calls you,” I whispered.
Kraken’s roar split the night—but not in rage. In recognition.
The ocean bulged upward around us, towering like cathedral walls. Ships tilted. Men clung to rails. Some jumped into water screaming—only to be pulled back up by waves like puppets.
I felt power tear through me—too much—like trying to hold lightning in bare hands.
But I didn’t break.
I commanded.
“BOW.”
Kraken lowered its head.
Silas fell to his knees.
Alaric stared up at me—wide-eyed, terrified, awestruck—like he saw a queen where a girl once stood.
Then everything went silent. Even the sea.