Chapter 16 Lyx
SIXTEEN
Lyx
The crow’s nest is taunting Lyx.
Not because she could see anything the night Cav took her up there, but fuck if she doesn’t remember every single feeling. Perhaps that’s why it lingers. Perhaps Cav found a way to embed himself in all her other senses. The taste of his blood. The sound of his moans. The scent of his sweat.
She can smell him now, his sheets tangled around her legs when she wakes in his cabin.
She holds her breath and lifts her head from the pillow, like that might spare her from the memories, but no.
Her clit throbs like his tongue is still branded across it, his tail twisting in her mind, his grin scraping a shiver up the back of her neck.
She’s used to the restless sleep of sirens, but it’s made worse by the constant ache between her legs. Maybe she could rest if she found some release, but she refuses. She won’t touch herself on principle. She will not orgasm to the thought of Cav – again — which means suffering in silence.
Unfortunately, not everyone has taken the same vow, which Lyx learns when Briar and Lace whistle as she climbs onto the deck the next day.
“Surprised you’re walking.” Briar lifts a cheeky brow. “Thought your legs would still be jelly.”
“It wasn’t that good,” Lyx grumbles.
Lace drags his eyes up her body. “It sounded that good.”
Lyx’s glare deepens. It’s clear the show she and Cav put on didn’t go unnoticed. Already, the stares and whispers from the crew have started, and that won’t do for what she has planned.
She retreats to her cabin until evening.
If she’s going to sneak around for Tidus, she needs to keep hidden.
Easier said than done when the Indulgence is at sea for days with no customers to distract them, so she waits until nightfall.
Once the ship is quiet, she creeps out of her cabin and trips over a tray of food.
The clatter makes her freeze. Her eyes whip down the corridor, but no one emerges.
With a huff, she slides the tray back inside her room before she slips away.
There’s only the light of the moon shining below deck.
Most of the other cabin doors are open, their occupants snoring or drooling as the ship rocks on the waves.
Lyx peers inside each one, stepping over piles of clothing and squinting to find the glint of a glass jar.
There’s nothing. She passes all the cabins, feeling along the walls until she can’t make out anything in the dark. If she wants to go further, she’ll need a lantern, but that will draw attention.
Something rustles behind her. She presses back into the shadows as one of the crew members shuffles out of their cabin.
Their eyes are bleary and half-asleep, blinking toward her without recognition.
Her heart thuds. The crew member begins to climb the stairs, and she waits until they’re out of sight before she darts back toward her cabin and shuts the door.
She almost trips over the tray again. Cursing, she sets it on the bed and flops down next to it. If she’s going to investigate the Indulgence further, she’ll need better preparation. A light, at least. Unfortunately, the ship is full of people who could stumble upon her at any moment.
With a sigh, she rolls onto her side and inspects the food selection. Bread, an apple, some other vegetable she doesn’t recognize. It’s better than nothing. Avoiding the other crew members means missing meals, and her stomach is growling.
Over the next few days, she gets deeper into the ship with a handful of close calls.
At one point, she’s forced to turn off her lantern and climb onto a barrel to avoid Cypher and her crow.
None of it gets her any closer to answers.
She may know where the excess storage is, where the bilge pumps and bulkheads are located, but she finds no glass jars.
The meals continue to appear outside her cabin.
She knows exactly who’s leaving them. Begrudgingly, she eats, ignoring how the food is arranged into melodramatic vignettes.
Greens sprouting like trees from mashed potatoes, carrot people on a bread roll ship, dried jerky swept away in a sea of gravy.
It’s tiny world of disorder. Obviously, Cav’s search for a hobby extends to food preparation as well.
On the third day, she expects him to show up.
He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to irritate her.
The trays of food continue to arrive, but Cav doesn’t.
She waits in the cabin all evening, imagining what he could have planned this time.
A bar locked between her ankles? Ropes suspending her above the deck?
Or, worst of all, the two of them alone with nothing to distract them?
It makes every part of her clench.
But Cav never shows. Her teeth grit together, body tight with unfulfilled desire.
He’s playing games. He’s tormenting her.
Is he trying to make her desperate enough that she goes to him?
That she gives him whatever “honesty” he believes she has?
It won’t happen. Her only course of revenge is to furiously get herself off and pretend she doesn’t imagine a pair of horns between her legs.
It must be cabin fever. She’s been cooped up too long. She needs fresh air. She needs to feed. She needs to get her mind off what a failure her snooping has been.
When the Indulgence pulls into the next port, Lyx climbs onto the deck. The dreaded crow’s nest is still staring down at her, but she keeps her gaze level. In the fading sun, the ship looks almost golden. Inlaid clams glow yellow and orange around the crew furling the deep, luscious sails.
The scene is spoiled by Cypher standing on the main yard. As soon as she sees Lyx, her hand darts to scratch at the bandana around her neck. Her bird pecks at her fingers. “We don’t need another show tonight,” she calls down.
“Can’t get your mind off it, hm?” Lyx shouts back.
With a hardened look, Cypher grabs a hoisting rope and slides down it to the deck. Lyx’s teeth flash. A fight will get her what she needs. But when Cypher approaches, Cav slips between them and braces a hand on Cypher’s arm. “Save that spunk for the customers.”
She rolls her shoulder out of his grip. “It’s been three days. Has she made her payment?” Her eyes never leave Lyx. “Since apparently her presence on this ship is so essential.”
Lyx presses forward, but Cav loops an arm around her waist. “I’ve got it under control.” His smile is tight, like they’ve had this conversation before, but he smooths it into something almost believable. “Unless you’d like to supervise?”
It has the desired effect. Cypher’s lip curls in disgust, and with one last glare, she stalks toward the forecastle.
That’s one aggravation dealt with, but Cav is another entirely. Lyx turns to him, prepared to dismiss him before all her thoughts evaporate.
He’s wearing all-black. She’s never seen him like this, sleek and polished, ruffles and leather emphasizing his vibrant skin.
Pants cling to his muscled thighs beneath an array of low-slung belts and straps.
The sleeves of his top billow around his wrists in contrast to the vest cinched at his waist. Bracelets and rings adorn his arms and hands, but the most striking detail is a layer of necklaces that fall across his chest. It draws her eyes to his scales, patches on his shoulders and clavicle that sprinkle around the curve of his breasts.
She’s staring. She realizes it when she finally meets his gaze again, and his smirk is absolutely audacious. Leaning back on his palms against a crate, he draws out the lines and curves of his body. “Don’t stop on my account.”
Her jaw tightens. She refuses to look anywhere but his face.
With a shrug, he pushes off the crate. “Or you can look your fill on the island.”
Her eyes dart to the gangplank. A crowd is forming below, and soon, the ship will be crowded with customers again. As with all things involving Cav, Lyx has the stifling urge to be contrary. “I’m not disembarking.”
He clicks his tongue, clearly unimpressed with the lie.
“You need to get off this ship. I know you must be bored down there. There are only so many card games you can play alone.” His hand lifts to her neck, but his fingers flex before he pulls away.
“Besides, you look a little…green around the gills. Do you want to go for a swim?”
Her scales prickle. “No.” Unfortunately, he is right about one thing; days without feeding have left her sickly again. Spending all this time on her own is catching up with her.
He offers his elbow. “Come with me, then. We’ll find some other trouble to get into.”
The hollow in her throat stretches hungrily. Dammit. With a heavy sigh, she grabs his arm and follows him off of the ship.
On the island, there isn’t a shop in sight.
There are hardly any buildings at all, only piles of broken beams and the remnants of foundations.
“Horrible hurricane season last year.” Cav gestures down the beach to the rest of the destruction.
“Most of their buildings got blown away or swept out. They’re only just starting to rebuild the taverns, so the Indulgence stops by to give them a place to unwind. ”
Lyx quirks a brow. “How generous of you to offer your loins in these trying times.” Thinking of his loins is a mistake. She keeps her expression plain and her gaze ahead as she speaks. “Yesterday was the third day since the crow’s nest.”
Cav hums. Nothing more.
Bastard.
If she were smart, she wouldn’t ask anything more. She would enjoy her freedom and let the chips fall where they may, yet something keeps nagging at her. “Do you no longer require my assistance?”
In the corner of her eye, she can make out the wolfish curve of his mouth. “Would that disappoint you?”
She scoffs. “Of course not.”
Her answer is too quick, but Cav doesn’t mention it.
Instead, he leads her off the beach toward the foliage.
It looks like they’re walking straight into a jungle, but when they round a corner, the bushes and plants recede.
A canopy of trees hangs over an open area scattered with mismatched chairs and tables.
A dozen people congregate in groups or couples, chatting and drinking while they watch Cav and Lyx with intrigued bemusement.
In the back of the space sits a ramshackle shed, barely big enough to contain a barrel of ale and the man wiping down the counter.
It’s an outdoor tavern scraped together from the remnants of the island. Unfortunately, it’s calmer than the other pubs she’s used to, no aggravated drunks or slippery thieves to stir up agitation. Her nose wrinkles.
Cav meanders toward a dartboard nailed to a tree and plucks the red and blue darts from its center. “Do you know how to play Cat and Mouse?”
“Enough to embarrass you.”
“How about a little competition, then?” He sidles up next to her and holds out the feathered ends. “If I win, we play out one of your fantasies for the next experiment.”
“You won’t win.”
When she reaches for the darts, he retracts them, lowering his voice until she can feel it scraping the hot pit of her stomach. “But if I do, it means you have to tell me what you want. What you like. What you think about when you’re alone.”
Her toes curl. What would she tell him? That her fantasies consist of making him suffer? Drowning him in the grotto? Prying her song from Tidus’s chest just to command Cav for the rest of his days.
A knot twists deep inside her. Or maybe she should tell where her thoughts go when she doesn’t corral them, the dark place where desire and frustration collide.
Where she fucks Cav until he can’t move.
Where she drags him into the water and takes on her true form.
Where he’s forced to see her as she truly is in a place where he can’t run away, a place where he has to stay, a place where she can burrow into his skin.
She snatches the red darts from his hand. “When I win, I want a tour of the Indulgence.”
His brows furrow as he backs toward the bar, trading coins for two tankards from the barrel. “I can show you around any time. You don’t have to win for that.”
“A full tour. With Heathen. I want to see how everything works.”
His eyes narrow skeptically, but after a moment, he sets the drinks on a high-top table littered with debris from the trees. “Alright, deal. Now, do you want to be the cat or mouse?”
She considers it with an exhale. “You seem to adore being helpless prey. Why stop now?”
Cav grins. “It’s about time you started chasing me.”