Page 187 of Gods of the Sea

Don’t you dare,Dagon warned.I’ve given you everything.

Give it to someone else, I replied.

“Jacques,” I said over my shoulder. “About the demon…”

Dagon took over before I could finish, not even allowing my permission this time.

I never told you my price, Henrik.

What price?

The price everyone is judged with in the end. The only price that mattersss in this realm: blood.

After that, everything went black.

There was a flash of light.

And I awoke to my brother on the floor and bleeding, the bloodied sword in my own hand.

And now, my brother’s lifeless body was lying in front of the Siren King, the same king I had tried to kill. The same king whose children I tried to destroy.

I had no hope for mercy.

They laid Adrian’s body in front of the king. The way the king looked at me showed that knew me quite well, even though I didn’t remember us meeting at all. It was from his posture and mannerisms alone that I assumed he was king.

Part of me knew to pay respects. The other half hated myself too much to act with any pride.

“Father…”

Esmeralda’s broken whisper made me raise my head. With tears falling down her cheeks, she held my brother’s limp hand and looked to her leader.

She was a siren, I knew. With that power, she could manipulate and destroy humanity in any way she wanted. But here she was, holding my brother’s hand, pleading for his life.

Forgive me, Esmeralda, you were exactly who you said you were. I was the liar. I was the deceitful one. I was the demon.

The king stepped forward, putting his hand on Adrian’s forehead.

“You returned my daughter to me,” the king said to my brother as he lay unconscious. “And protected her from the demon that tried to destroy us all.”

I dropped my head.

“You assisted in restoring freewill to my creations,” the king continued, “and so, this once, I will restore your body.”

I raised my head to see a beautiful turquoise thread spring from the king’s hand and weave into Adrian’s body. Tears of relief sprung to my eyes as his color returned. He wasn’t conscious, but I knew his life had returned to him.

I was too exhausted to express my gratitude.

“Bring me his brother,” the king commanded.

If I was to be sentenced to death, I accepted. My actions had been evil, blinded by my own pride. I put a sword in my own brother. I commanded the killing of the sirens. I almost evendestroyed an innocent woman who had done nothing but show concern for my family.

I would take death. I had earned it.

I lowered my head.

“Look at me, Henrik,” the king commanded.

It took all my strength to do it. Whether it was from exhaustion or fear, it was hard to say.

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