5. Lorant
5
LORANT
W hatever softness I’d possessed had been ripped from me the instant I turned seventeen. I’d expected it, though the shock of that moment still reverberated through me years later.
There would be no getting used to the feeling, and I accepted that. What was lost might never be found, and in that, I was no different than anyone else in my family.
But I would not accept this .
Reyla cringed in the opening to the stairwell, feverishly running her hands across her gown to smooth the endless wrinkles. It wasn’t a bad gown as far as dresses went, though I was no expert.
Sensing my attention, her gaze lifted to meet mine. I could almost see her pupils dilate with each passing moment, making her look lost and fragile. This woman wore confidence like armor, but the surface had cracked, allowing a hint of vulnerability to slip through.
Something coiled tight in my chest, an unfamiliar and unwelcome thing, like an itch beneath the skin that didn't belong but demanded attention anyway. She looked so exposed that everything inside me buckled.
I should fight this pull with the ruthlessness I prided myself on. Vulnerability had no place beside power. It weakened you, exposed you.
That flicker of defenselessness caught at some buried corner of my soul; the part still capable of feeling. Every fiber of my being shouted retreat while something deeper compelled me forward.
Despite logic screaming otherwise, surrender seemed not only inevitable but dangerously enticing.
I’d stood with Captain Christoff and the first and second mates in front of a flower-beleaguered wooden arch Lord Briscalar had brought up on deck and adorned. He’d also strewn flower petals from this location to where Reyla stood with her shoulders curling forward.
He, like the rest of us, had frozen, our gazes locked on the only woman on board this ship.
“By the fates, that dress . . .” To my right, one of the crew snickered.
The sound stabbed into her like a blade, striking true. She couldn’t smother the flash of pain across her face, though I could tell by the way her lips tightened that she tried. A shiver ran through her before she stiffened, girding herself for more mockery, perhaps even from me .
Every muscle in my body tightened, and a fuse inside me ignited. Blinding anger roared through me, not the cold, calculated rage I wielded so easily but something hot and urgent that demanded reckoning now.
How dare they mock her?
With a snap of controlled fury, I reached out to the sea. Water surged up in an obedient column, shimmering in the moonlight, a viper poised to strike.
Like me.
I flung the column at the sailor, cutting him off mid-snicker.
A twist of my power, and the water froze around him. Encased him. He stood there, immobilized, a grotesque statue and a lesson to anyone else who might think of laughing at Reyla.
The rest of the crew shriveled and slunk back to their duties.
“I did offer to help her with her clothing, my lord,” Briscalar said. “She refused, but she was supposed to wait for me outside her suite.” The basket with a few remaining flower petals dropped from his hand to clatter on the decking. “My lady . . .”
Reyla’s hand jerked up to the simple arrangement she’d made with her hair, and she tugged on the sunset strands streaming across her shoulders while her face darkened.
“You should’ve insisted,” I snarled. This was why he’d been brought with us, not to fling flower bits around for her to walk on.
Lord Briscalar flinched, but his gaze met mine. “You’re correct, Lord Lorant.” He straightened, his hands limp by his sides. “I stand before you, awaiting whatever punishment you deem appropriate.”
The glare I sent him should’ve killed him.
“Ah, yes,” the captain sputtered from behind me. “Shall we . . . proceed with the wedding?”
“We shall not.” I gnashed through the words.
Leaving him, I stalked over to stand in front of Reyla.
“If you’ll give us a few moments, my lord,” Briscalar jerked out, hurrying behind me to join us. “Please, give us at least a few moments or more. I’ll correct this oversight on my part. Then we can begin.” He reached toward Reyla to urge her back downstairs.
My growl ripped from deep inside me. “Do. Not. Touch. Her.”
“Oh, I . . . Yes, um . . .”
A flick of my finger sent his feet skidding across the deck. His body didn’t stop until it reached the mast, though I slowed him enough to avoid a hard impact. While he deserved it, I needed him for this journey. So did the king, and Merrick would be peeved with me if I offended the man who would serve as the head of his queen’s entourage.
“I’ll take care of this,” I snarled, turning my glare Reyla’s way.
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t back away. And those two facts made me like her more than I should. I wasn’t the kind to show softness, yet I could not seem to resist doing so—though only with her .
“Don’t be mean to Lord Briscalar.” Reyla stepped around me, thrusting herself between us. “I told him to leave. I told him I could handle this.”
“And yet you have not,” I hissed through clenched teeth.
Her chin lifted, and she tilted her head, staring down her nose at me in such a queenly way, she snagged my every thought, my every breath. “I look fine. I’m only marrying a proxy , not the king.”
“This will not do.”
“Well, it has to.” Her wry laugh trickled through the air.
I winced.
She noted the gesture, and her eyes darkened to steel. “I don’t care.”
“ I do.”
“Then you need to find a way to deal with it.”
“Oh, my wildfire, I shall.”
“I’m not yours . I’ll never be yours. And stop calling me wildfire.”
I could no more do that than I could stop breathing.
Her hand flicked to the sailor who remained frozen on the deck, the others studiously avoiding him while scurrying to do their duties. “You did that.”
“I did.”
“Undo it?”
“Why? He mocked you.”
“He laughed with good reason.” She couldn’t contain her wince, and her voice dropped to almost nothing. “I look horrible. Anyone would laugh.”
“I did not. ”
She studied my face. Had she noted my scars? Was she as appalled by them as everyone else? “Why not?”
“There's nothing amusing about someone else's vulnerability.”
“I’m not vulnerable.” Yet her voice shook.
“We’re wasting time.”
Her face shuttered. “Yes, of course.” She waved toward the waiting captain. “Let’s get this over with, then, shall we?”
“Yes, we shall.”
I reached out, gathering moonlight from the air around us. I spun it, transformed it, and I sent it to her in a delicate wave.
Surprise rippled across her features. She stared down at the shimmering moonlight dress she now wore that I’d crafted for her alone, her brows lifted with disbelief. The dress flowed in opalescent white across her every curve, each subtle movement creating a cascade of luminescent ripples. Gossamer-thin straps clung to her shoulders, leading to an elegant bodice patterned with misty lace. The fabric swept down into a full skirt that flowed in waves of radiant light. She wore the night sky come to life.
Before she could speak, I held up my finger. This time, I tugged on the moisture skipping across the waves and I changed it. My lips quirked up, though only briefly, as Reyla fingered the pearl earrings and necklace she now wore, treasures cast by the sea. One more spell, and I’d harnessed the breeze and used it to fashion her hair in an intricate braid I coiled into a crown on the crest of her head.
She stared up at me with stardust in her eyes and her mouth ajar .
I stooped and collected a few flower petals, carefully tucking them into her hair, standing back when I’d finished.
“You . . .” Her swallow worked its way down her delicate throat. “Thank you.”
I stomped on the kindness, the tenderness that had started to coil up inside me and thrust out my arm to her.
“The captain is waiting.” It was all I could do to cage the turbulent emotions trying to claw their way out. “We’ve wasted enough time already.”