“Perry!”
Perry heard Aria’s yell, just as the glint of steel flashed in the corner of his eye. He shifted away, but felt the blade slice into his side.
A hidden weapon. He should have known.
The knife grazed Perry’s ribs. It was glancing blow—Sable too weak to put any force behind the strike—the pain that bit into him shallow, nothing compared to what Perry had been through.
“That’s not enough, Sable,” he growled. “You don’t have enough. ” He cinched the links tighter and held on.
Sable convulsed, his eyes rolling back, the tone of his skin going from pale blue to white.
Finally, he went still.
Perry released the chain and climbed to his feet. He decided on the spot: This was it. His final act as Blood Lord of the Tides.
He pulled his own chain over his neck and dropped it on Sable’s body.
He spent the next hours defusing the tension in the clearing with Aria, Marron, and Loran. The Horns put down their weapons with little protest when they learned they weren’t in danger of retaliation. Aria’s father proved to be key to their disarmament. Perry quickly saw that Loran commanded more loyalty and respect from Sable’s people than Sable ever had.
Then the questions began as discussions turned to next steps. Who would lead? How would they meet basic needs?
Nothing was decided, but one note was heard over and again: the answers would come eventually and peaceably. Dweller. Outsider. Horn or Tide. They were of the same mind. They’d had enough of strife. It was time to shed the skin of the old world and move forward.
Later that night, when most everyone had settled into sleep, Perry caught Roar’s eye and they did what they’d done their entire lives, taking the trail to the beach to grab a few minutes of quiet.
This time was different.
Aria came with them. Talon and Willow, too.
Then Brooke and Soren. Molly and Bear and Marron.
It went on, a small crowd leaving the slumbering camp behind, and migrating down to the wide beach fringed by waves far gentler than those at the Tides.
Hyde and Hayden fetched wood. Jupiter brought down a guitar. Soon there was a fire and laughter. A real celebration.
“I told you we’d do it, Per,” Roar said.
“It was closer than I wanted it to be. I thought you’d really been shot. ”
“I thought I’d gotten shot. ”
“So did I,” Aria said. “You fell so dramatically. ”
Caleb nodded. “He did. He fell with a flourish. ”
Roar laughed. “What can I say? I’m just good at most things. ”
As their joking continued, Perry’s thoughts turned to Kirra. Roar hadn’t been shot, but she had. It wasn’t right to celebrate her death, but Sable’s . . .
Perry felt no remorse for what he’d done. He wished he could be nobler about it, but he couldn’t be. He knew regret, having slain Vale. Perry would carry that burden for the rest of his life. But Sable’s death brought him nothing but relief.
Looking at the faces around him, he ached to see his sister’s. Liv should have been there, teasing Roar. Laughing louder than anyone at his jokes. Across the fire, Twig and the brothers sat quiet and somber, no doubt feeling the absence of Gren and Reef. They had all been brothers. A circle of Six—now broken, also because of Sable.
Perry’s gaze moved to Willow, who sat between Molly and Bear with Talon. Flea slept curled at her feet, but she looked lonely, and Perry knew who she missed.
They had made it here, but the price had been steep.
Aria’s hand slipped into his. She looked into his eyes, the firelight illuminating her face. “How are you doing?” she asked.