In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (most motivational books txt) 📕

crackled. Sweat beaded along his hairline and rolled down his spine in rivulets as all the secrets and worries he’d held back for so long ripped from him in a torrent.

He could escape now. No one would stop him. No one could. But as his fire flashed in front of him, wild and raw, so did the memories of the last few weeks, the taunts, the torture, the cruel manipulations. Tal chose to lean into his power, his rage, and burn the ship to cinders, leave nothing behind of those who had made him helpless and afraid. He was done being hurt. He was done being used. It was his turn to wrest control of his life from the whims and machinations of others. It was his moment to turn the tide in his favor. The ship rocked, and wood creaked and splintered. Ropes fell, and ash swirled as Tal rained destruction. He tipped his head back and breathed in the hot, hot air. His body shook with adrenaline and joy, all wounds forgotten, his parched throat raw from a cathartic scream.

If he was going to die, he’d take Zeph and her crew with him in a cruel spectacle of power and light and flames.

He took a breath, banked the fire that raged within him, and clenched his hands to survey the chaos he’d wrought. The sailors he could see through the thick smoke scrambled about the deck like ants, trying to put out the fires, while others fled in the jolly boats, jumping overboard to the relief of the sea. Beams that had burned to cinder cracked and fell, breaking through the deck and the railing. The ship pitched as it took on water.

Zeph stared at him, mouth open in surprise and horror, until her lips curled into disgust.

So this was what it was like to be feared. People who had heard the rumors had always been suspicious of Tal, wary of the possibilities of his blood, but they’d never cowered before him. They’d never shouted in panic and scurried away like they did now. The pulse of power was heady, warm and filling, a match to his pounding heartbeat. Intoxicated, Tal finally understood the appeal. He’d never felt as close to his great-grandfather as he did right now, with embers fluttering on the hot wind and terror seizing the minds of those who’d hurt him. He was no longer powerless and weak. He was in control.

A hard tackle from behind sent him sprawling to the deck. His cheek scraped along the grain as a knee pressed into his spine. Zeph’s shiny boot stepped on the nape of his neck.

Rot’s voice was harsh in his ear. “What have you done, whelp?”

Tal struggled and gasped as Rot wrenched his hands behind his back.

“My family is coming.”

“Too bad you’ll be dead before they get here.” Zeph pressed harder and Tal choked, the apple of his throat pushing into the wood. “Clap him in irons. Be careful of his hands.”

Tal called to his magic and lit his palms, causing Rot to curse, but iron rings encircled his wrists anyway. Zeph released her hold and nudged him over to his back with the toe of her boot. She leaned down and sneered.

“What did you hope to accomplish? You’re still going to die.”

“Yes,” he said, voice strained. “But so will you.”

Features twisted in fury, Zeph tugged him to his feet and threw him hard against the railing.

The ship burned, listing to the side. Sailors scrambled along the deck, tossing buckets of water on the fire to no avail. Three warships approached, flying flags with his home’s emblem, skidding across the water with sails full of wind and vengeance.

Tal’s chest heaved.

Zeph grabbed his chin, her nails digging into his flesh. She yanked him close. Her gray eyes glinted. “I am going to kill you myself.” She released him and unsheathed her sword, pressing the tip to his breast. He steeled himself for the pain and hoped his family would find his body amid the wreckage.

A sharp cry pierced the air. A flash of talons and a flurry of brown feathers filled Tal’s vision. Kest dove, clawing his way between the trio. Blood splattered. Zeph cried out. Her sword clanged to the deck. Kest shrieked again, his beak clacking, claws swiping, raking across skin to the bone. Tal staggered away, ducking his head as Kest eviscerated Zeph with beak and claws, and Rot cowered in fear.

Amid the scuffle and shouts the ship pitched, throwing Rot sideways into Tal. The collision sent Tal reeling, his feet sliding across the slick scrubbed deck.

Battered by waves and fire, the ship shuddered in its death throes and rolled to its side. Between one moment and the next Tal lost his balance and fell.

The cold water hit him like a slap, stealing the breath from his lungs as he slid under. Kicking wildly, Tal pushed upward and broke the surface, breath heaving from shock. He bobbed barely above the waterline, waves lapping over his face as he struggled to stay afloat. With his hands bound behind his back, he fought to tread water in the rough seas, tilting his body to keep his nose and mouth above the whitecaps. Sputtering with each toss of the waves, Tal struggled to stay near the ship, but the strong current swept him away.

Staring into the dawn, smoke wreathing in thick, dark tendrils against the orange sky, Tal laughed at the destruction he’d wrought, salty spray filling his mouth. At least he’d die knowing his family had come for him, that they hadn’t left him as he’d feared.

He inhaled a mix of smoke and water, then slipped beneath the waves.

His chest burned with his last breath. Senses muted as he sank in the murky depths—his vision blurred, his ears flooded with the rushing sound of water mixed with his own heartbeat, a tattoo of fear. A plume of red bloomed in front of him as his shoulder leaked a steady stream of blood. Adrenaline and