Page 153 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

The Elven protectors shot their arrows at the sirens as they swam towards their ship, but they were too quick and missed. Dozens of the sirens jumped out of the water and onto Cassia’s vessel.

In all of Mazie’s years, she had never witnessed such merciless bloodshed. The queen’s protectors cried in agony as the sirens’ sharp fangs pierced their necks. The pirate scanned the surface and spotted Nola. The girl’s honey-colored eyes were black as night.

Well, look at you, little siren. You have found your calling,Raven thought as Nola sunk below the water, swimming towards Matthias’s ship. Kill that bastard!

“Hill, look!” Mazie said, pointing at the siren.

Aboard the main ship, the king still held his pistol at Lincoln, his arm badly scorched from dragon flame.

“Go ahead, Father, try killin’ me again!” Lincoln shouted right as Nola sprang from the sea, her human legs forming a split second before she hit the deck. Two of the king’s guards shielded the path, protecting the king, but Nola lunged forward, her fists plunging into their chests and ripped out their hearts. As the men fell to the deck, she looked ahead at the old man.

You destroyed all the beauty in this world,Nola thought, dropping the bloodied, still-beating hearts to the floor. Anaru’s fire had spread across the ship and was growing to a fierce inferno behind Matthias.

He is trapped, I can end this now with my fangs. She looked into the king’s eyes and let out a savage siren cry of rage.

The siren breathed heavily as the king’s eyes widened. He stepped back, his hand shaking with the pistol aimed at her chest.

Nola’s skin was red, rough. Her eyes had turned crystal white, and her teeth resembled jagged knives, her claws soaked in blood and flesh. Her eyes blazed with anger as she saw Elijah. The prince was lying on the floor near the railing of the ship, covering his wounds.

Wrath filled Nola’s entire being as she stomped forward, swiping her claws at Matthias’s throat. The king held up his pistol and fired four shots, hearing a click on the fifth attempt. He dropped his weapon and moved back, witnessing what he had done.

Nola glanced down at the bullet holes in her stomach. She felt no pain, only the sensation of blood running down her belly.

Her hand covered the wounds before falling to her knees.

Lincoln rushed to her and lifted her into his arms.Burning pieces of the ship’s mast began to rain down around them.

“Oh, my love,” he said, tightening his grip around her shoulders to pull her closer into his chest. “You will not die today.” The captain released her and reached into his pocket. He stood straight looking at his wicked father, took out the compass, and turned the key. Matthias let out a scream and lunged towards the captain. A flash of light surrounded Lincoln, forcing the king back. Lincoln watched as the yellow dust of the compass’s magic spilled around him. All he could think of was going back to save Nola from his father.

Time began to flow backwards.

He stood back on the ship, watching as Nola came out of the water. That time, however, he knew exactly what was going to happen. He picked up his sword and moved quickly.

Nola stood before two guards protecting King Matthias. She reached outward and tore their hearts out.

As the king lifted his pistol at the siren, a blade sliced through his neck. Nola’s eyes went round as Matthias’s head rolled down to the stern of the ship, while Lincoln clung to his bloodied sword.

The siren and the pirate looked at each other—time stopped between them.

“Thank you,” Nola said, trying to catch her breath.

She wanted to run to him, but they both looked to where Elijah had fallen. The young prince was trying to stand, blood still pooling under him.

“Elijah!” Lincoln shouted, hurrying to help his brother lay back down on the deck.

“Stay still before you hurt yourself even more!” Lincoln laughed out of relief, putting his hand out to prevent his brother from standing.

They both looked up as the Elven warriors stepped onto the ship. A few ran to suppress the flames that were spreading to the deck of the ship. Lincoln held up his sword, but Aiden put his hands out, a flask in his right hand.

“Our water,” the black-haired elf said, looking down at Elijah.

Lincoln nodded.

Hagmar’s son quickly knelt beside the prince and held the flask to his lips. “Drink.”

Elijah drank from the water and instantly felt relief. The flow of blood stopped, and the wound began to close.

“What about the protectors,” Lincoln asked.

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