Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
James
Ihave no idea how much time has passed between yesterday’s chef trying to haul me out of bed and the door to my room opening again.
I did not even realize the chef, whose name I forgot, never locked the door to my cell.
It would have been the ideal moment to get out of here and explore.
If my legs had not turned into over-used ropes overnight.
Missing Peter has never hit me this hard all at once.
I am too tired to think about it, though.
Yet a small part of me keeps thinking about it, wondering if there could be a truth to his words.
As if all of that isn’t bad enough, Captain Killian Tregear himself is the one walking into my cell now.
A sliver of satisfaction settles in my chest, warming it when I see his bruised cheek.
How dare he kiss me yesterday! I am still upset about the way my body reacted, the way I sighed and leaned into the kiss for a split second.
I know it was nothing more than a physical reaction, but it leaves me feeling guilty.
I was scared he would tell Peter when the latter finally comes to free me. Now at least the bruise shows I fought back.
“What?” I say before bursting into another coughing fit. “Come to gloat about what you have done to me.” Something flashes behind his eyes, which darken for a split second like they did when I told him I would be sick again, reminding me of stormy skies. Nothing like the sun I find in Peter’s eyes.
“I am not the one that made you addicted. I am not the reason you are going through withdrawal right now…” His voice betrays nothing as he puts a glass of what seems like thick orange juice on the chest next to my bed. So calmly the glass hitting the wood is barely audible.
“The sugars in this will help. Belichime will bring you some pastries later today.” With those words, he is gone.
I scoff, even if he won’t hear it anymore.
I am fine with him not staying in the room with me.
He acted like the juice was going to help me feel better.
Like this is the common flu. It’s not. I will either die or Peter will rescue me if he finds me in time to save my sorry ass.
However, I am thirsty, so I sit up as much as I can, and take small sips of the juice, which I thought was orange juice.
But with the first sip, I notice it is actually Pomala fruit, fruits native to Silvermist, an easy confusion as they look like triangle shaped oranges, but they taste like a mixture between a sweet blood orange and a grapefruit.
My chapped lips tingle from the acidity of the juice, but surprisingly, it does make me feel a little better.
My muscles stop trembling so much. Hopefully, this means I can get some sleep soon, especially when I see Herb walk into my room.
It might be foolish and desperate, but I hope Belichime was right, that Herb will make me fall asleep.
“Hi, James, how are you feeling? I am here to bring you tea with a lot of honey and a makana pastry. Cap’n says it helps,” Belichime chirps. I wonder how this girl is always so cheery. I don’t comment on it. I just rub my eyes. Seconds after Herb got into bed with me, I fell asleep.
“Aww, Herb helped you out? He is a cutie, isn’t he?” Belichime says while petting the cat, still bright and cheery. Despite it all, it pulls a smile from me. Maybe if she lived back in Silvermist town with the fauns, we would have been friends. Things didn’t end up that way, though.
“First the pomala juice, now the makana pastries. Is this what he does? Threaten to kill someone, terrifying them, after dragging them from their home violently. And then when they get ill because of it, feed them fruits?” Even rolling my eyes leaves me dizzy.
“It helps,” Belichime’s face hardens, her tone getting colder like I am the one to blame here.
“He didn’t hurt you, not really, and you were really mean to him,” she concludes.
Tea sloshes over the edge of the cup as she slams it down on the chest that doubles as a nightstand. So much for us being friendly.
I sit up, ready to eat, hoping the juice, the pastry and the overly sweet tea will make me feel a bit better.
As always, when I am sick from being separated from Peter for too long, I am sweaty, and it’s been hours.
I feel grimy, my scalp itches, and the tunic is stuck to my back.
I need a bath, but the way I am feeling right now, I won’t make it to the bathroom.
I have been handed a clean set of clothes again this morning.
If the food and tea gives me a bit of energy, I can bathe before getting some more sleep.
A little while later, I make my way to the bathroom, since my door wasn’t locked.
After yesterday, they clearly do not see me as a threat anymore, and right now, I am not.
That’s why I am glad I did not run into any of the pirates.
This is the first time I am bathing without a moody pirate stationed in front of the door.
The pressure and frustration of having to bathe with someone listening to my every move stopped me from wondering how there are several fully functional bathrooms on a pirate ship.
I take time to look around now that I am truly alone, and I have to admit it’s genius.
The huge copper kettle I know the crew fills every night; the vat collecting the steam that turns into fresh water by being boiled; the flames underneath the pipes leading toward the tap; and the pipe just peeking outside the ship’s hull, so the dirty water drains back into the ocean. Everything is meticulously planned.
It’s weird how they are able to make a bathroom—numerous bathrooms—this ingenious but are unable to grasp the concepts of fated mates.
Also the concept of leaving people be, without kidnapping them.
Still, my entire body relaxes as I lower myself in the hot water, tingles running up my spine to my scalp.
If I am stuck here with them, I might as well enjoy the benefits.
I lather my hair with the pine scented soap bar before washing the rest of my body.
Even the scent of the soap seems to make me feel better.
Then again, who doesn’t feel better after a warm bath.
I let my head rest on the edge of the copper tub, the steam stinging my eyes, which already feel dry and swollen.
I am sure I won’t fall asleep and drown in this bath.
Not with how I am feeling now. So I decide to close my eyes for a second, just enjoy the warm water and the quiet.
Only when the water turns cold do I get out of the bath and grab my towel, realizing I forgot or dropped my tunic.
At least I did bring my trousers and briefs with me, because there is no way I am walking this ship naked.
It was too good to be true that I didn’t bump into any of the pirates on my way here.
I am not betting on the fact that I won’t run into one on the way back.
And it’s good I didn’t, because while I do not run into anyone on my way back to my room, there is a nasty surprise waiting for me in my room.
“I was wondering where you slithered off to,” he says, smirking at me, and because of that smirk I am now convinced that leaving the door open was just another trick.
A test to see what I would do. His eyes, however, rake over my body, eyes darkening when he takes in my bare torso.
“Looking for this?” Killian practically purrs.
I hear a ripping sound as I yank the tunic from his hook, but I don’t see any obvious tearing, so I put the tunic on.
“I needed a bath, to wash yesterday’s touch off me.
You know when you couldn’t stop yourself and showed everyone how desperate you are to have what Peter has.
How’s your cheek by the way?” The wooded floor greets me with a dull thud as the ship suddenly sways again.
I have gotten used to the constant movement when I am on legs that can carry my weight.
Today is not one of those days. Not with how ill I have been feeling.
I can feel my cheeks burn. I hate to appear so weak in front of him.
A warm calloused hand that has never touched me with kindness before suddenly wraps around my arm, gently helping me up.
Tears sting in my eyes and blur my vision, not from sadness but from anger and humiliation.
To be given kindness by the man who not even twenty-four hours ago tried to kill me, stings like a knife to the back.
“Here sit down,” he tells me, his voice soft.
It’s not exactly compassion, but it’s not hatred either at this moment, which is worse.
We hate each other, that much is clear. So how weak must I be now for him to let go of that hatred to help me?
To pity me. And worst of all, I need to accept his pity, his sudden gentle care, because I need to sit down.
The only other option I have is to free myself from his soft grip and crawl to the bed on all fours.
“What are you even doing here? It’s not like you were worried about me escaping or getting up to something. Seeing as you were just sitting on my bed.” There is no need to try to snarl. There is no need to keep up this front of being stubborn and strong, when he just had to pick me off the floor.
“Well you seem to fear the oceans more than you do me. And you’re too weak to go around exploring. Especially without a shirt.” He smirks “You bathing was the only logical answer to what you were doing, and I am a very patient man.”
I feel dizzy again just from rolling my eyes at him. Because in all the days we spend together, against my wishes, he has shown himself to be anything but patient. I just lack the energy to fight him on it.
“Still, what brings you here…?” is all I reply.
“I just wanted to check how you were doing. Listen, you were a fucking bastard yesterday, and you don’t know shit about what you were talking about. But I should not have lost it like I did. If it was not for Seviin, I would have killed you, and it would have made me as bad as he is.”
It’s not much of an apology when an insult to my mate is uttered in the same breath.
But it is an attempt at one. And I guess I kind of appreciate that.
It is weird, though that it is easier to hate someone who has no virtues at all.
“Whatever. You didn’t, and I tried to kill you too,” I mumble because what else can I say.
Apology accepted but if I get the chance I will still kill you?
Apology accepted for almost trying to kill me, so now I am just waiting on the apology for kidnapping me, taking me from my home. And with that, causing me to get violently ill.
“For what it’s worth, I do regret that you feel so bad now, but in the end, the chances of Peter getting out of this alive were very slim to begin with, so you were always going to suffer through withdrawal.
” With those parting words, he gets up, and the bed creaks as he strides toward the door.
His steps sound arrogant as always. But when I look closely, I can see his shoulders are slumped slightly.
I don’t have the time to think about it though, because bathing, and talking with Killian has exhausted me. I am feeling feverish again; all I want to do now is crawl into my bed and fall asleep yet again, hoping Peter will reach out to me in my dreams as he did a few days prior.
Suddenly I am back in my parent’s living room. They are talking about marrying me off. I see the shadow of myself sneak up the stairs. My parents do not seem to notice me in the living room.
“Mom, Dad, don’t worry about it. I found someone who will take me, Matthew, and Barry in.
And he will leave money behind so you two can get by.
You can even get your medicine mom,” I shout waving my hands desperately trying to get their attention.
Just as I am about to give up, I see a flash of something through the window, a shadow, shaped like Peter.
But it can’t be him because Peter has no shadow.
It is one of the things I never worried about.
Even if I know fauns typically do have shadows.
Peter told me he never had one, and that it is not that uncommon for faun royalty.
With a start, I wake up, my body slams up, like ropes tied to my torso have suddenly been untied while I slept.
. The sudden movement causes a shockwave in me, making my brain throb and my eyes want to pop out.
The bright lights now streaming into my cell burns my skin and my eyes.
I scramble toward the curtain to close it.
I rub my eyes, almost trying to push them back into my skull.
Part of me feels like I need to make sense of this dream, and all the little snippets Killian has told me about.
The largest part of me, however, still feels like I can trust Peter.
That dream was just a fever dream, fed by all the stress, and the lies Killian has been telling me.