Chapter 60. Blood in Council Waters

The sea rose like a verdict.

Waves crashed against the hull of Midnight’s Forge with a force that felt almost divine—judgmental. Not nature, but history roaring back, clawing at Harper Quinn’s legacy with salt-soaked fury. It felt like the ocean had made up its mind about her fate—and it wasn’t mercy.

She stood on the command deck, wind lashing her coat, soaked to the bone. One hand gripped the steel rail, the other clenched around her encrypted sat phone. Her eyes were fixed on the screen ahead—where the beacon pulsed again, red and rhythmic.

Arthur was coming.

From the east, his skiff tore across open waters—low, lean, and blacker than the waves it cut through. The radar showed too much velocity, too little stealth.

Knox joined her silently, coat flaring behind him like a banner in retreat. His voice was grave. “He’s pushing stealth fuel to max. This isn’t recon.”

Harper’s jaw locked. “It’s retribution.”

***

Below deck, Lucien’s voic