A marine at the back of the group surrounding Vee pulled a powder flask from his bandolier and began loading his pistol. Once he finished, all he’d need to do was instruct his colleagues to part, and he’d be able to shoot her at almost point-blank range.

Knigh’s stomach turned, and bile coated the back of his throat.

“No.” He couldn’t …

But the alternative …

His pistol was in his hand. He stared down—hadn’t even meant to …

Chest heaving, he paced away from the rail.

He couldn’t. But maybe …

As long as he kept control. That would be safe. And she would be safe.

And whether she was the notorious Lady Vice or the heroic Pirate Queen—because he’d be damned if he knew which—at least he’d feel like he’d done the right thing.

Besides, if the pirates lost, the Hesperians would board The Morrigan, and he’d be forced to fight anyway. And outnumbered like that, losing control was inevitable. This way …

Turning, he cocked his pistol and levelled it at the marine. As soon as the royal blue uniform edged with scarlet was in his sights, he pulled the trigger.

With a flick of recoil and a crack, the gun fired and the marine staggered towards the Covadonga’s rail. A dark stain spread across his jacket. Pistol and powder flask dropped from his hands as he turned. He looked down at the wound in his chest, stared up at Knigh, then fell.

Knigh huffed out a shaking breath. Decision made.

Muscles surging, he ran, leapt onto The Morrigan’s rail and across the gap between the two ships.

Before his feet even hit the Covadonga’s deck, he swung his sabre, slicing through flesh, jarring on bone.

He had to get to Vee. If she was still alive.

Another slash and blood sprayed his hand. The marine gurgled and thudded to the deck. The others nearest started to turn, eyes wide when they found themselves flanked.

Gritting his teeth, Knigh’s muscles burned with fae-touched strength, and he easily cut through one man’s defences and another’s.

Copper and salt coated his tongue, eggy sulphur and smoke filled his nose. In every direction, red and royal blue.

With a grunt, he parried a thrust from a wild-eyed marine. Knigh turned his blade and swept across the man’s belly.

You let us down.

His ears buzzed, and the only other thing he could hear were his breaths, harsh and heavy. Pulse throbbing, his body hummed, pushing his limbs harder, faster. Each blow vibrated through his arm.

A wild cry sounded, and it was only the way it tore his throat that told him it was his. Two more bodies landed. Somewhere distant, there was pain, but it didn’t matter.

You lied.

Crimson—a coat, not blood. Arched brows rose in surprise, and Vee blew a relieved breath.