Kings of a Purple Sea

Part 3

we are planning on finishing this fic soon, and new ch's will be out!

Thanks for reading !

edited: 7/7/24

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Theo Raeken.

His treacherous laugh echoed off the exposed inner cogs of the ship. Mawing water cascaded from where she had been sliced open. A cocky smirk formed on Raeken's face at the destruction - furthering Stiles and Derek's agitation.

"My two favorite people. I was wondering how long it would take to run into you. I selfishly wanted to see your faces when you realized who was to blame for the orchestration of your crushing defeat."

Theo's nostrils flared in overeagerness, unable to contain himself on a drop of victory.

His laugh was giddy.

"For all the times you've underestimated me to now realizing I was your biggest threat all along. I hope you enjoy a good show because you've found yourself as the main attraction in a tragedy under my direction. The true story of an inept sorcerer and his dirty mutt."

Theo stood like a thing to be adored, balancing on the bow of his ship, arms spread wide to embrace the sea like an old lover. He stared tauntingly at the two pirates hanging from the starboard of the alpha's wrecked ship.

Air whistled around their bodies, rocking them back and forth in a sway that loosened Stiles's sweaty grip on the deck - his other hand clasped tightly in Derek's to keep either of them from plummeting into deep sea.

"Between the two of you, I never thought it'd be the wolf that needed an extra push from behind."

Theo was trying to distract their much needed concentration.

Derek's only response was a roar that clapped against the waves, the greater display of power even in their position. Stiles managed a huff of amusement, cut off by a wince from the swords on his belt loops digging into his skin.

Theo didn't do well with their insolence.

"Rage at me all you want, wolf - it won't change anything. By the end of this day, you'll both be dead and I'll be recognized and revered as King of the Seven Seas."

Now Stiles did not laugh - instead he angled his neck back to meet Theo's stare with piercing accuracy.

"Over my dead body," he seethed.

Not a threat, but a promise. Theo would never achieve the title they all sought after, Stiles would die before that happened. He would die to keep that from happening.

Derek's ship groaned and trembled as water began to weigh her down, slowly but surely - the jerk had Stiles digging the pads of his fingers into wood. Sharp, piercing pain pricked him as splinters stabbed deep beneath his callouses. Theo's goading was the least of his worries - Stiles would meet his death too soon for it to matter if he didn't do something to save them now.

"Charmspeaker," Derek bellowed, the threat of danger hot on his heels, "it's up to you."

He didn't sound pleased about putting his life in Stiles's hand, but there was no help for it.

It was up to Stiles to make things right, and he would not shrink from the responsibility.

Muscles straining, the sorcerer tightened his grip on the werewolf's wrist and began heaving the dead weight up to tenuous safety. There was no help from a crew Stiles had ordered to flee the wreckage, but Stiles had a perfect record when it came to escaping imminent death - and he wasn't going to break it now.