Chapter 11 #2
It’s on the tip of my tongue to warn the sailors to stop their protests. I even consider agreeing to stay behind, though that’s likely to enrage Rian more.
I bite my tongue, trying to figure out how to intervene when—
“I’ll stay.”
All heads, except Rian’s, turn to Jaxon.
The friendly Fae stands next to a dinghy, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the prince’s back.
A ripple of darkness rolls down Rian’s legs. “No.”
Jaxon scowls. “This is the best option, and you know it.”
The shadows coil around Rian’s ankles before slithering along the deck. I have the distinct impression they’re ready to wrap around Jaxon and throw him into a dinghy.
“I need all of you in Virendrell,” Rian says.
“I’ve already told you, I will be nothing but a hindrance,” Jaxon counters, determination carved into every line of his face.
“I will remain here as insurance for the sailors and stay far away while you negotiate with Virendrell for help. Then, when you come back, we can continue on our way to the Sea Fae.”
The writhing shadows along the wood deck reveal just how much Rian does not like that idea.
The captain’s legs kick out. His face mottles red.
I can’t take it anymore.
“Rian.”
Sharp eyes snap to mine. The intensity of his attention sends sparks all over my skin.
The pull returns—strong and insistent—the same one that nearly claimed me before the Pelagor struck.
It claws at my ribs, tugs low and relentless, urging me toward the Shadow Prince no matter how I brace myself. I grit my teeth and hold my ground. The sensation surges, tests, waits for me to falter.
I don’t.
Whatever waits on the other side of surrender, I can’t afford to find out. Not yet.
I shove down the tumultuous emotions and say, “Stop.”
Telling a Fae what to do is a risk.
Telling a Fae prince what to do is madness, especially one who is rumored to have enslaved every working man along the border this side of the Veil, dragging them into the Fae lands to serve his uncle.
But the shadows on my arms tell me that Rian won’t hurt me.
Rian holds my stare for one second that seems to last a minute. Then rough coughs and garbled chokes fill the air. The captain falls onto his hands and knees with a loud thud.
I don’t have time to consider checking on him before Rian is there, shouldering past Draven and Darius, filling my space.
I retreat a single step and immediately curse myself. Weakness is a luxury I can’t afford.
I square my shoulders, lift my chin, and meet his gaze.
Rian’s eyes churn, molten and bright, like smelted metal in Ferria’s forge. Though, melted astlerium is more stable than the fury coiled inside the male looming over me.
I brace for a reprimand—the reminder of my place. For his anger to fall like a blade.
It never happens.
Shadows slide along Rian’s arms, smoke-thin tendrils drifting toward me as if drawn by instinct alone. They hover, trembling, close enough to touch.
The space between us tightens, charged, brittle, like the air before lightning strikes.
A throat clears.
“Rian?” Draven stands behind his prince’s shoulder, watching us with a grim expression. “Control.”
A growl gathers at the base of Rian’s throat before, abruptly, it’s cut off.
His back snaps straight, and the shadowy tendrils dissipate.
Now he takes a step back.
I hold his stare, heart racing. The silver in Rian’s eyes fades to tiny specks in his midnight-black eyes.
He whirls on his heel and strides over to Jaxon.
He clasps a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Are you certain about this?”
Jaxon nods. “Yes.”
“If a ship comes upon you, conceal yourself. We don’t want anyone to know what we’re doing on a ship commissioned to take us to the Sea Fae.”
“Understood.”
Rian gives a single, decisive nod, then lets his hand fall.
He turns without another word, strides to the dinghy where Silas waits, and snatches up the bags. They hit the boat with dull thuds.
“Let’s go,” he says.
Draven and Darius move, each grabbing their own bags and tossing them into the second dinghy before stepping aboard.
I try to follow.
But before I can plant a foot inside the boat, Darius’s hand appears in front of my face. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I lower my raised foot and frown. “Onto the boat.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “No way. I enjoy poking the bear, but after that little display, now is not the time.”
A shadow flows from his palm and nudges me toward the other dinghy. “You’re riding with His Highness.”
My pulse stutters. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Darius’s shadow pushes me forward. I stumble then dig my heels into the deck, but his power is relentless.
“Stop it,” I hiss over my shoulder.
“No can do, sweet Elara.” His shadow shoves me the short distance to the other dinghy. “None of us wishes to lose a hand or an eye today.”
I have no idea what that even means.
I whip my head around, prepared to deliver a firm rebuke for his forceful actions, when my shins hit the lip of the boat, and the weight of my bags swings.
A squeak passes my lips as I teeter into the dinghy. I rotate and throw my arms out to brace for impact, but something cushions my fall.
A pillow of shadows.
I cringe away from the darkness and struggle to right myself. Rising on unsteady feet, I look up. Rian’s stare captures mine.
A spark of silver flares, but his face is otherwise expressionless.
“You should sit down,” he says.
“I—”
“Launch,” he shouts.
The boat lurches as the men manning the pulleys give it slack.
I fall onto the bench behind me. My stomach flips as we are lowered to the water. Silas shoots me a reassuring smile before returning his attention to the ropes in his hand.
My fingernails dig into the wood on either side of me, holding on for dear life, while my traitorous eyes lock on the Shadow Prince, admiring the way his muscles bulge beneath his damp shirt. How strong his jaw is as he clenches his teeth.
The skin underneath my dark markings tingles.
I slam my eyes shut.
What is wrong with me?
Rian is a manipulator. A trickster. By all accounts, a brute.
I should feel nothing but disdain and mistrust when I look at him. It doesn’t matter that he’s saved my life.
More than once.
I shove the attraction aside, mortified to realize it’s not just the shadows on my arms that want to close the distance between me and the Shadow Prince.
My own light magic coos in my chest, flows into my limbs, and urges me to go to him.
Absolutely not.
I am a grown woman with a mind of her own. I don’t care what the strange markings or my own magic feel about this subject. I’ve made my decision. I will not be pursuing this…unnatural attraction to the Fae.
With a fortifying breath, I open my eyes.
Pools of silver capture my attention.
My magic preens under Rian’s attention.
Gods help me…
I’m stuck on a boat with an enemy—an enemy my magic wants more than it wants my survival.
And judging by the slow, relentless pull in my veins…it’s going to be a very long trip.