He didn't touch me. Not yet. But the weight of his breath on my skin made me want to tear my own flesh off just to feel clean again.
I glared at him through half-lidded eyes, forcing my face to stay blank—unchained, if nothing else. I'd learned that in Ohara. If they couldn't see you break, you still held the leash.
He crouched lower, close enough for me to smell the expensive tobacco on his breath.
"Lucky for you," he drawled, tilting his head like he was admiring something on display, "I've already got a buyer lined up."
I didn't speak. I didn't need to. My heartbeat spoke loud enough in my chest.
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a sickening whisper. "Ever heard of Mary Geoise, girl?"
I stiffened before I could stop myself. And his grin widened like he'd won something.
"Mm. Thought so." He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his coat. "It's a rare thing, selling stock like you. An intelligent little thing with a face they'll love to ruin."
My nails dug into my palms until I felt skin break.
"Special request, in fact," he added, turning on his heel as he strolled back toward the far hatch. "I hear the Celestial Dragons are very interested in children like you. Something about the purity being the most valuable…"
He paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder with that same sharp, leering smile.
"You'll make a fine centerpiece for their next auction."
And just like that, he left me in the dark—
Surrounded by the silent echoes of every life already lost here. Headed for the very hell Robin and I had only just escaped.
Mary Geoise.
My body trembled in the chains. But not from fear. Not from despair. I could feel it rising again. The fire. The rage. The promise.
This wasn't over. Not yet.
The days blurred into one another after they left the sea cave.
Nyx never took Robin back to the city—not even close. She led her farther inland, deeper into the island's overgrown wilds, where broken ruins and jagged cliffs shielded them from curious eyes and slave hunters.
They set up camp beneath the shattered remains of an old watchtower, its stones half-buried in ivy and time. It wasn't much, but it was safe. Quiet.
And Robin hated it.
Every breath in that silence felt heavier than the last. Every sunrise reminded her that Raven was gone—because she'd let her go.
But today… Today, Robin was done crying.
Nyx stood a few paces away, arms crossed, eyes sharp as ever.
"You sure about this?" she asked again, tilting her head. "Last chance to change your mind."
Robin squared her shoulders, jaw trembling but set. "I'm sure."
Nyx let out a slow breath, motioning for Robin to step into the clearing.
Tallis leaned against a stone pillar nearby, watching with the disinterested air of someone who'd seen dozens of kids break before they ever threw a punch.
Robin took a step forward, curling her fists at her sides.
Nyx didn't smile. Didn't soften. She simply rolled her shoulders and stepped into the circle, her voice dropping into something low and dangerous.
"First lesson," she rasped. "Survival isn't pretty. You don't win by looking good. You win by staying alive."
Robin nodded, swallowing hard.
Nyx's eyes narrowed. "Show me how you stand."
Robin shifted her feet apart, raising her trembling fists the way she'd seen guards do back on Ohara.
Nyx sighed through her nose. "Wrong."
Before Robin could blink, Nyx closed the distance—grabbing Robin by the front of her cloak and shoving her to the ground, hard enough to knock the breath out of her.
Robin gasped, scrambling onto her elbows, stunned.
Nyx crouched down over her, her voice like a blade in Robin's ear. "Second lesson. You're smaller. Weaker. Slower. That means you have to fight dirty."
Robin winced, pushing herself shakily back to her feet. "I—"
Nyx grabbed her wrist before she could finish and twisted her arm behind her back, forcing Robin to stumble. "Use your weight," Nyx growled. "Use your teeth if you have to."
Robin gritted her teeth, frustration boiling over. She shifted her weight and threw her elbow back with all her strength, catching Nyx in the ribs.
Nyx let out a surprised grunt and loosened her grip for just a second—
—but Robin didn't stop. She stomped down hard on Nyx's boot and twisted her small body, breaking free with a ragged cry.
Nyx's grin flashed sharp and proud for the first time.
"There she is."
Robin collapsed to her knees, panting, her body shaking with adrenaline and exhaustion.
Tallis whistled low from the pillar. "Looks like the little shadow has claws after all."
Robin wiped her mouth on her sleeve, her heart pounding.
Nyx crouched in front of her again, gripping her chin—not roughly, but not gently either. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Good," Nyx breathed. "Because you'll need every dirty trick you can learn if you ever want to get her back."
Time passed—Robin didn't know how long. Days blurred into weeks, marked only by bruises, sweat, and exhaustion.
Nyx didn't go easy on her. Not once. Every dawn began with drills—how to move, how to fall without breaking, how to slip a blade from a belt without losing precious seconds. Every afternoon brought sparring—painful, ruthless lessons that left Robin gasping in the dirt more times than she could count.
And every night… Every night, Robin dreamed of Raven.
Of chains.
Of that cargo hold.
Of blood.
Of Mary Geoise.
She woke up choking on those dreams more often than not, but she never stopped showing up in the clearing.
She learned to fight dirty. To move faster. To bite, claw, survive.
Nyx never praised her—not with words. But sometimes, when Robin landed a hit that made Tallis whistle low, or when she managed to twist out of Nyx's grip without getting slammed into the ground, she'd catch the faintest flicker of approval in Nyx's eyes.
And Robin clung to it. Like it was a rope keeping her from drowning.
One morning, long after the bruises stopped surprising her, Robin sat alone on the edge of the ruined tower, clutching a thin blade Nyx had finally let her keep.
Her knuckles were white around the hilt, her breath shaking.
She knew she was stronger now. Faster. Meaner.
But the hole in her chest where Raven used to be—
That hadn't closed. Not even a little.
She swallowed hard, glancing toward the horizon.
"I'm coming for you, Raven," she whispered under her breath, tightening her grip on the blade. "No matter what it takes."
My world had narrowed into two things: the rattling of chains and the slow drip of seawater somewhere in the dark.
I had no way of knowing how long I'd been on this ship. The lanterns never dimmed. The guards never spoke to me again. Time had no meaning anymore.
They barely fed me. Just enough to keep me breathing.
The other prisoners… most had stopped moving altogether. Some cried in whispers when they thought no one was listening. Others just sat staring at nothing, eyes hollow, hope long dead.
I refused to join them.
I couldn't.
My wrists burned raw from the chains, my shoulders aching from hanging too long in the same position. Every time my body sagged with exhaustion, I forced myself to stand straighter again. To fight the weight.
I didn't know what they wanted with me. I didn't know when they'd come for me next.
But I knew where they were going. Mary Geoise.
And if there was one thing I, Raven Ashford—no, Nico Raven—knew about myself…
…it was that I didn't stay chained forever.
I shifted my weight slowly, carefully, testing the rusted metal pin holding my cuffs to the pillar.
It had started to loosen days ago. Or was it hours? I didn't know. But I could feel it.
One more hard pull—
One more careful twist—
My heart pounded. Just a little more…
The iron pin groaned softly under the strain of my weight as I shifted again, breath caught in my throat. My wrists throbbed, raw skin scraping against cold iron.
Just a little more…
I bit down on the inside of my cheek, forcing my body to move despite the ache screaming in every nerve.
With a final, sharp twist—
SNAP.
The rusted pin popped free with a metallic crack, and the chains holding me to the pillar slackened, dropping me to my knees with a muffled gasp.
For a single, fleeting second, I felt it—
freedom.
But the noise had already drawn attention.
A heavy bootstep pounded toward me from the far end of the hold. A guard rounded the corner with a snarl, raising a shock baton glowing faintly with sea prism energy.
I lunged, dragging myself forward on shaking legs. My fists clenched the slack chain, swinging it in a wide, desperate arc toward the guard's face—
But I was too slow. Too weak.
The baton slammed into my side, sending white-hot agony through my ribs. I collapsed with a ragged gasp, twitching as the crackling energy ripped through me.
The guard spat on the floor beside me.
"Should've stayed quiet, rat."
Rough hands grabbed me by the hair, wrenching me upright. A second guard appeared, pulling a thick cloth soaked in something sharp and bitter. I struggled weakly, my vision spinning.
"No—"
The cloth pressed over my mouth and nose before I could finish.
Darkness swallowed me again.
It didn't stop there. Every day… I tried. And every day… They caught me. Dragged me back. Beat me down. Drugged me until my world was nothing but a haze of nausea and blurred lights.
They didn't speak to me anymore. They didn't even look at me like a person. Just… property. Cargo.
The others had stopped reacting to the noise days ago. They were too far gone. Or maybe… they already knew it was hopeless.
But I refused to break.
I kept trying. Even when the chains got heavier. Even when the drugs burned my throat.
Because the moment they stopped breaking me…
…the moment they got lazy… That's when I'd strike. And I'd make every one of them pay for taking me from Robin.