Chapter 19 Cav
NINETEEN
Cav
Maybe Cav got ahead of himself. As much as he enjoyed the crow’s nest, it wasn’t enough. He was so eager to touch Lyx’s body again, but that’s all he touched. Nothing deeper.
The night spent throwing darts was different. Lyx seemed different. Slowly, she unfurled, speaking without so much halting resistance. She asked him questions. She told him things. It felt like they were getting back to where they’d been before, synching into a familiar rhythm.
But it didn’t last. When Lyx returned from wherever she’d been, there was a barbed look on her face. She wouldn’t tell him anything else. She still hasn’t.
Two days later, he lies in his hammock under the storm rolling overhead.
It doesn’t give him much warning. Within seconds, a massive cloud opens up and dumps rain over the deck.
Everyone scrambles, steering the boat through roughened waves or scurrying below deck for cover.
By the time Cav disassembles his soggy hammock, he’s soaked to the bone.
He splashes down the stairs, clothes steaming while his internal fire tries to warm him.
The ship groans and heaves. Cav braces against a wooden beam before he drapes his hammock over it to dry. All the cabin doors are shut tight, including his own. A strip of firelight flickers beneath it, taunting him from the end of the hall.
Fuck it. Lyx may want nothing to do with him, but at least he can get a fresh change of clothes. He wrings water from his shirt and moves down the corridor to knock at the door.
Lyx takes her time answering. He can see her shadow moving, but she’s silent when she opens the door with a sullen look.
Her curls are piled atop her head, the sleeves of her dress slung low on her shoulders.
Her clothing may be dry, but it clings to her as if it isn’t, hugging every curve of her body.
Cav tries not to stare. It takes a moment for him to remember why he’s here. “I hate to be a bother —”
“No, you don’t.”
He bites back a smile. “The deck is inhospitable tonight.” He gestures down his wet torso to the puddle forming at his feet. “May I come inside for some clothes?”
Her eyes narrow, but when the ship bucks, her fingers curl around the door frame. Her skin fades to almost white. It looks like she’ll be sick.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
Water drips onto his lips. Her eyes flit to his mouth. For a moment, he wonders if she’ll slam the door in his face, but then the boat pitches. He skids across the ground, claws scraping the wall as he collides with her.
They stagger into the room, nearly knocking the lantern from its perch.
He catches her around the waist, planting his feet to keep from sliding when the boat rocks back in the opposite direction.
The door slams closed, and he lands against it, his back to the wood with her body held tight against his chest.
Their breaths are as scattered as his thoughts. Her face hovers before him, her palms pressed to his chest. They drift downward as if they’re separate from her mind, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, like it would tear open as easily as wet parchment…
Then the glassy look in her eyes is gone. She pries herself away. When the boat rocks again, her hand darts out to steady her.
She’s as far from him as she can get. He sets his disappointment aside and unlaces the soggy ties of his vest. The room looks much the same as when he left it, although the odds and ends have been put away, no longer rolling across the floor.
Something about that makes him smile. “I hope the accommodations have been up to your standards.”
Rain pelts the window behind him, but it’s half as hostile as she looks. “It’s obscenely quiet, usually.”
“My apologies.” He discards his vest. “I’m sure we can liven things up.”
She scoffs, but it catches in her throat when he works his shirt off over his head. He drops it on the ground, body warm where her eyes rove the wet jumps covering his chest. No matter how he yearns to, he doesn’t look at her, like her arousal is a fickle cat he doesn’t want to scare away.
“If it helps,” he says, “I talked to Heathen about your tour.” Lyx perks up at that. It fills Cav with guilt. “She doesn’t have time for it now. Maybe at the end of the season when things slow down.”
It’s foolish to imagine that Lyx will still be here then, but that doesn’t stop him from hoping. Lyx looks none-too-pleased. “So that’s why you’re here.”
His hands pause on his open belt buckle. “For my dry clothes?”
“You’re here to collect your dart winnings. And I’m past due for your experiment.”
He waves the thought away. In truth, he’d forgotten both of those agreements — but clearly, Lyx hasn’t. A thought spreads over his mind. “Have you been waiting for me to collect?”
The accusation makes her scoff. “Of course not.”
“So you haven’t been counting down the days?” Now that he thinks of it, she mentioned being “overdue” during their dart game as well. Why does she continue to remind him? Why not let him forget?
Her mouth twists sourly. “I just want to get it over with.”
“There’s a simple way of accomplishing that.” He leans back against the wall, tucking his hands into the tops of his pockets. “Two birds, one stone. Tell me your wildest fantasy.”
Her jaw sets. He’s not sure any words could pass through if they wanted to, but then, her head tilts. She gets a distant look in her eyes, something close to a smile playing on her lips. “You, with your mouth shut.”
He hums sweetly.
With every word, her expression grows more vicious. More beautiful. “You, with your head underwater. You, with air bubbles streaming from your nose.”
“Do all your fantasies revolve around me?”
Her mouth hangs open for a moment before she clamps it shut.
It’s an opportunity. Cav takes it. “Why did you agree to Heathen’s offer? To doing this with me?”
Lyx’s brow knits. Her arms fold across her chest. “I needed a spot on the ship.”
His tongue clicks when he shakes the water from his hair, pants sinking lower on his hips. “I don’t buy it. I think you agreed because you want to know just as badly as I do. Because you’re curious.”
For a brief moment, her eyes dart to the trail of scales that lead down from his navel, but she snaps it up again. “And what would I be curious about?”
In this light, she looks almost pink, shadows dancing across her dogged expression.
It’s strange how her sharpened edges only make him speak more softly, his voice dipping low for just the two of them.
“Have you wondered what it could have been like? If we’d had more time. If we’d had more of each other.”
Maybe he shouldn’t say it. Maybe he shouldn’t dredge up the past, but it’s less like ancient history and more like a dream he can’t pull himself out of.
One he doesn’t want to pull himself out of.
There’s a waver in her face that’s more than lanternlight. “No.” Her voice crackles. A flush spreads up her neck before she clears her throat. “I don’t think about you.”
“Except for how much you hate me.”
Her eyes darken, fierce as the storm roiling outside. “Great Abyss…” Her voice is little more than a hiss. “Have you never been denied anything?”
Cav stands straighter. This is not their usual back-and-forth. Something swarms beneath her surface, drawn up from deep inside her. This is what she’s spent years thinking about.
It boils out of her, harsh and bitter. “You enter every room like it’s happy to see you. You swagger through every problem. You smile at every adversity. You yearn for nothing.”
The ship rolls again. He braces against the wall. “That’s not true.” His throat is thick when he shallows, always looking at her. “I want.”
“There’s nothing you need that you can’t have.” Her fingers curl into fists, irritation branching through her. “You couldn’t begin to understand.”
“Let me give it to you, then.” It slips out of him as easily as breathing. When he licks his lips, he can still taste the words. “Let me show you what it’s like to not be denied. To hear ‘yes’ to everything you want.”
She blanches, like the thought of Cav giving her everything she wants is a threat. Her hand lifts to her throat before she drops it again. “I don’t need that.” It almost sounds like she’s trying to convince herself. “I have my song.”
Oh, he remembers her song. The reminder tightens hot and heavy in his gut. Under her thrall, he was delirious to please her, soaking in every delicious second of her control. He swears he can see the memory dancing behind her eyes, but that’s not what he’s after.
“I don’t mean by force.” When the ship tips, Cav finds his sea legs and rides the wave as he follows the thought.
“Has no one ever done something just to see you enjoy it? Been desperate to know your desires, just because they’re yours?
” He steps toward her, his voice and body finding balance.
“Has no one ached to fulfill them? To fulfill you?”
She fights the motion of the ship and clings to a hook on the wall. Her face goes pale when her legs hit the bed, forcing her to sit on the end of the mattress.
“You wouldn’t need your song.” Cav pushes off the wall and lets the motions carry him across the room until he’s standing before her. “What if someone could read you? Learn you so well that they sense what you need?”
The boat jerks and knocks him off his feet.
He stumbles forward, catching himself with a hand on either side of her hips.
Both their breathing is heavy, chests rising and falling out of time.
A droplet of water drips from his hair, skirting down the column of his neck and tracing between the scales on his shoulder.
They both watch as the water beads on the tip of one scale, dropping and splashing onto her clavicle.
He’s so caught up that he can’t catch himself when the boat dips again, sending him sprawling backward.
She lands on top of him, knocking the air from his lungs when his good shoulder collides with the door.
Lyx groans and pushes up onto all fours.
She holds her weight off of him, but her hips are caged by his thighs.
Her hair has slipped from its bindings and falls like a curtain around them, blocking out everything else.
His heart drums in his ears. He knows what she wants. He doesn’t have to think when the smoke coils in his throat and urges him to offer it.
“Slap me.”