Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Calista
“Pull it up,” I order.
The whole crew—minus Zephan in the kitchen of course—gathers round to watch the giant trap as Drakor hauls on the rope with everything he has, his big face turning red with the effort.
“Krathbag,” Petr swears as the nearly empty trap tumbles onto the ship. He kicks it and the three bouldercrabs inside go scurrying to the other side.
Three.
That’s it. It appears that my luck on this haul has run out.
On a good day, these traps can each catch over one hundred bouldercrabs and take two men to pull up. This is the fifth trap I’ve checked out of my lot of fourteen. Not one had more than five even though we set them four moons ago.
“Dat's it?” Petr says in disgust, kicking the iron trap again. The bouldercrabs inside raise their claws like they’re getting ready for battle. “Dat's all dis rotten ocean's gonna give us? Four measly crabs?”
Edrik laughs. “There’s three in there. Where did you learn how to count, Petr?”
“Watching your mama with all her men,” he says, glaring at him.
“The water is not cold enough this time of year,” Valther says. “They hide out deep when the water is warm like this.”
“Warm?” I say, shaking my head with my hands on my hips. I touched the water a few days ago and it was freezing. How cold do these damn creatures want it?
“Should I toss it back in, Captain?” Drakor asks.
I take a deep breath and look at the endless ocean. The sun is starting to set. If we get going now, we can collect all our traps and head to a new spot.
I have the deepjaws to consider. They’re not going to survive long in the vault and they should be my top priority.
They should be… But they’re not.
My top priority is currently lying in my bed, moaning and writhing around in pain.
I don’t know what to do with him.
The yearning I’m feeling is only going stronger with every day that passes.
Briallen says we should drop him off in the wolf territory, but I can’t bring myself to do that. We’ll sail away and I’ll never see him again.
He opened his eyes yesterday for the first time and I still get shivers when I think of the way he was looking at me. It didn’t last long. He fell back into a fitful sleep and I spent another night by his side, holding his hand, praying over him.
We should probably head for land somewhere, but I’m worried that once he’s off my ship, he’ll no longer be under my control, and I might not see him again.
I can’t even think of that.
“Captain?” Drakor says, standing over the iron gate.
I sigh. “Edrik, grab those bouldercrabs and bring them to Zephan, so he can put them in that stew I’m smelling.”
Edrik whelps as one grabs a chunk of skin under his arm and holds on.
“Grab ‘em by the feets, you maladek,” Petr says with a laugh. “You trying to get clawed?”
He can’t get it off, so Briallen follows him into the kitchen, carefully prying the sharp claws open. It’s going to leave a mark.
“Put the traps away,” I tell Drakor. “And the rest of you, grab the rest. We’re not staying here.”
Drakor looks relieved. He’s been terrified of the Sea Wraiths since we’ve been in these cold parts. I don’t think he’s slept one minute in four moons.
We heard them screeching in the distance last night, but they never found our ship. If we can collect our traps and get out of here before the sun sets, then we can keep it that way.
“Isen,” I shout as I walk under the crow’s nest. His old wrinkly head pops out and he gives me a big, toothless smile.
“Aye, Captain?”
“We’re bringing the traps in. Get them on it.”
He nods and disappears.
My heart starts racing as I head to my quarters. I’m always excited to see him. I don’t know why, but I just love staring at his calm, still face.
I’ve spent countless hours at his side, wondering his name, wondering what his voice sounds like, wondering how those warm hands would feel on my skin.
My crew must think I’m crazy. Falling for a shipwrecked wolf shifter… Captains have faced mutiny for less lunacy than that.
As I’m walking across the deck, Briallen appears at my side, handing me a cup of something hot she got from the kitchen.
“Thank you,” I say, breathing it in with a moan. Mint tea. It warms my insides and makes my mouth water.
“How is he?” she asks quietly.
I wrap both hands around the cup and look out at the water.
“The fever broke last night,” I say. “Finally.”
I was worried it would never end. He was thrashing around, sweating up a storm. At one point his skin was too hot to touch. I feared the worst.
But he fought his way through it.
She exhales. “Thank the gods.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
It was the scariest five days of my life.
It may not be over, I warn myself. He could fall back into a fever at any time and I need to prepare myself for it.
Zephan says his wolf is doing the healing. That shifters in bad enough shape will simply shut the world out and repair themselves from the inside, and the best thing I can do is keep him warm and let the process finish.
So that's what I've been doing.
Keeping him warm.
Talking to him even when he can't hear me.
Holding his hand even when he doesn't know it's there.
He’ll make it through. He has to.
I'm aware of how ridiculous I look. I'm aware that my crew is exchanging glances behind my back and doing a very poor job of pretending they're not. I'm aware that this makes no rational sense whatsoever.
I don't care even slightly.
“Calista,” Briallen says carefully. “When was the last time you slept? Properly, I mean.”
“I sleep.”
“In the chair beside your bed doesn't count.”
I sigh as a heaviness fills my body. It’s like finally saying it has made the fatigue appear.
“I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you sleep in my bed for a few hours?” she suggests.
She’s the only other female and has her own room. The rest of the men sleep in the bunks beside the cargo haul.
“I’m fine,” I repeat with a little more emphasis.
She tilts her head and gives me that look she’s been perfecting since she was twelve years old. I ignore it.
“Go check on the eastern traps,” I tell her. “It’s getting dark.”
“Yes, Captain,” she says sarcastically before leaving.
She goes.
I stand at the rail and drink my tea, watching the stars come out in the endless sky. I try to think about where to go now to fill my half-empty cargo hold, but as usual, my mind drifts back to the man in my bed and I can’t focus on anything else.
That night, when all the traps are on board, and I’m slumped on the chair, half asleep beside his bed, clutching his hand, he wakes.
I gasp as I sit up, watching him slowly blinking those eyes open.
There’s no fever. No delirium. No screams of pain.
He moans as he opens his eyes and turns his head, looking right at me.
I stare back at him in awe.
His eyes are green. As bright as my emerald sword and just as sharp. They’re fixated on me with an intensity that should be unsettling, but somehow isn’t.
“Welcome back,” I whisper.
He just stares at me in wonder. I feel a warm sensation tingling from my fingertips to my toes and everything in between.
All of the color is back in his skin and lips. He looks good. Healthy, I mean.
He winces as he lifts his injured arm and runs his hands through his wavy brown hair.
“Don’t move it,” I say, rushing to help. I grab his arm and gently lower it back down. “Your arm was really injured when we found you. It was ripped out of your socket.”
“Where am I?” he asks in a deep raspy voice. That voice… it does something fierce to my body. It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
Keep it in check, girl. He’s injured and not up for any of that.
“You’re on my ship,” I say. “This is my room.”
It’s so nice to see his chest moving up and down with powerful breaths. He’s breathing in through his nose with every inhale.
“You’re the captain?”
“Yes,” I say, feeling a boost of pride. “Captain Calista.”
He closes his eyes and says my name like it’s sacred. “Calista.”
“What happened to you?” I ask. “Why were you half dead, pinned to a tree, and naked in the ocean?”
He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. “It’s… complicated.”
“I bet,” I say, not wanting to push him too hard too quickly. “Let’s start with something not complicated. What’s your name?”
“Kieran,” he says. “Kieran Stormfur.”
“Huh,” I say, wondering about that. Stormfur is the name of the neighbouring wolf kingdom. Is he a royal, or maybe all shifters take the last name of their pack? I don’t know too much about them. His species stays off the sea, so we don’t cross paths too often. Or ever.
“You’ve been watching over me,” he says. It’s not a question. “I could sense you here. The whole time.”
My cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I could smell you,” he says quietly.
I swallow hard, knowing what I smell like—dried sweat, salt, and fish. There ain’t a shower on this ship.
“Even when I was dreaming,” he goes on in a whisper. “Even when it was all dark. I knew you were here, Calista. Thank you.”
I don't know what to say to that. I look at my hands.
“Are you still in pain?” I eventually ask. “How long does it take a wolf shifter to heal?”
“Depends on the injuries,” he says with a sad smile. “I think I was on the edge of what a wolf is capable of healing. One additional splinter in my finger probably would have pushed me over the edge into death.”
I flinch. I don’t like him talking about his death, even in jest. I don’t know how I would have been able to go on if he had passed. It would have crushed me and broken my heart.
“Careful,” I say as he sits up in my bed. He still winces with every movement, but he looks so alive. I’m eternally grateful for that.
“I can’t believe you found me,” he says, staring at me with what can only be described as awe.
“Yeah,” I say. “You’re lucky we were sailing by.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he says. “I’ve been searching for you my whole life, and I wake up and you’re here.”
He’s not making sense. I touch his forehead with the back of my hand, expecting him to be feverish, but his skin is warm and feels as normal as ever.
“What do you mean, you’ve been searching for me?”
He smiles and the sight is so beautiful I have to grip the armrest on my chair.
“This is going to sound outlandish,” he says slowly. “But it’s the truth, Calista.”
I just wait for him to say it with my body frozen and my heart racing.
“You’re my mate,” he finally says. “We’re connected in more ways than you can possibly know.”
Mate.
The word lands in the room and sits there.
I stare at him.
He stares back.
I open my mouth.
Then I do the only reasonable thing a practical woman can do when a naked, half-dead wolf shifter tells her she’s his mate three minutes after waking up for the first time.
I laugh.
It comes out before I can stop it. My laugh turns loud and slightly hysterical, not helped by my lack of sleep and the giddy feeling rippling through my body.
“I’m sorry,” I say, covering my mouth as I giggle. “I’m sorry, that was… I’m not laughing at you, I just…”
He smiles back at me, appearing amused by my reaction.
“It’s just, you’ve been unconscious for five days,” I say. “And we’ve known each other for approximately four minutes. And you know?”
“Yes.”
“For sure?”
“Yup.”
This guy is unreal.
“You’re really telling me that we’re—”
“Mates,” he says with a firm nod. “That’s right.”
“And you’re not feverish or crazy or brain damaged?”
He shakes his head, grinning that sexy grin at me. “Not even in a little bit.”
I sit back in the chair and look at him.
Really look at him. At the steadiness in those extraordinary eyes.
At the absolute lack of uncertainty in his face.
He’s not performing this. He’s not delirious.
He means every word with a quiet, unshakeable certainty that makes something in my chest go very still.
And I think about the intense pull on the water that night. The feeling of heading toward something inevitable. The way I couldn’t leave his side for five days and couldn’t explain why. The way his hand in mine felt like something that was always supposed to be there.
Is he… right?
My hand goes to his. I hold it just like I’ve done every day for the past five days. His fingers close around mine, strong and certain.
Our eyes meet and we stare at each other for a long, quiet, perfect moment where the world outside this cabin doesn’t exist and all that matters is each other.
Until the world barges in on us.
The door crashes open.
I turn with a gasp.
“Valther!”
He’s standing in the doorway, filling the frame while gripping two emerald daggers. He’s breathing hard and his eyes are big and wild.
“Sea Wraiths,” he says. “Port side. Coming fast. A lot of them.”
He disappears as fast as he appeared.
I leap up and grab my sword off the wall.
“Sea Wraiths?” Kieran says, sitting up with a wince. “Those are real?”
“Very,” I say, sliding my sword a few inches out of the sheath before snapping it back in. “And they’re not very nice.”
“I heard fables about them as a boy,” he says, struggling to get up. “They snatch sailors off their ships and tear them apart in the air.”
“They’re not fables,” I say as I tie the sword to my belt. “They’re very much real. And very much on their way.”
“Wait,” Kieran says as I race to the door. I stop with my heart thundering. He’s sitting up with his legs over the bed. Only a thin sheet is covering his manhood. Everything else is exposed and gorgeous. “I’ll go. You stay here. I need you to be safe.”
He tries to stand, but the color drains out of his face with the effort and he stumbles back onto the bed.
I rush to his side and hold him down with a hand on his shoulder.
“You stay here,” I say. “This is my ship and I’m in charge.”
“But they’ll… hurt you,” he says, each word coming out like it’s causing him physical pain.
“One thing you have to know about your mate,” I say, grinning as I step back. “Sailing ships and killing Sea Wraiths is what she does best.”
I unsheathe my emerald sword and flash him a sexy look before racing out into the night to help.