Chapter 20
J A N E
W ell, I think I prefer land. And if I have to hear one more joke about my sea legs, or lack thereof, I’m going to stab someone. I’ve only been in here for a short amount of time, and it’s all anyone can comment on when I don’t sway properly with the ship. Especially when I was being taken to the captain’s quarters, and the ship steered pretty sharp—in my opinion—and I was the only one to wobble with it.
I’m sitting here, in what seems to be a waiting room in Tempest’s portion of the ship. I don’t know much about these layouts, but I’m pretty certain it isn’t common for this to be so large. There’s even a circular window that perfectly frames the view of the ocean. It’s taller than me— which, perhaps, is not as significant as it feels. The rest of the room is still opulent for a ship, though, with a candle chandelier hanging on a chain, and there are carvings of sirens throughout the walls.
Staring through the window, the view slightly shifting side to side, Skull’s Row is clear as day, officially behind us.
It’s actually quite amazing to see it from this angle, with the Spiraling Stone rising high above the cliffs.
I release a slow, purposeful sigh as this reality settles over me.
We escaped.
Over ten years since my mother was ripped from this world, I’m actually leaving all that shit behind. What’s next is arguably worse, but damn, my anchored life in Coalfell felt like change was insurmountable for so incredibly long.
Now, it’s just a memory. A long, leaden memory.
I wish I got to see Kathleen before we left.
A few sets of footsteps precede the door to the room opening, and only one set enters: Tempest.
She struts in confidentially, the door shutting behind her. “Your people are here to collect you, Jane, and take you to your quarters. You were here for safekeeping while matters got settled.”
I stand right away, because out of everyone I’ve met, she really does feel the most like a queen . It makes me want to behave, which is a first. “This is a beautiful ship,” I comment, not sure what I want to talk about with Tempest, but I also don’t want to leave her. She seems like a treasure trove of information.
“Took many years to carve,” she smoothly answers, removing her leather long coat, the buckles clinking.
“Thank you for helping us,” I add, bending my knees to help with any sway so I don’t embarrass myself in front of her, especially when it moves enough to make the chandelier tip a little to the right.
“The moment that people in Skull’s Row catch wind that Blackwell is seeking you out, let alone Misery hunting you, people will either be out to kill you or turn you in and hope there’s a ransom. You wouldn’t last long enough to drain a pint of ale.” She hangs her coat on a hook in the wall, her white tunic more fitted than the rest.
“Well, true, but that also means I just put you and your crew at risk.”
She smiles as she faces me, a roguish gleam in her eyes. “We’re pirates. They’re used to it. As long as there’s time aboard the ship, and something to raid in the end, they’ll be happy.”
There’s something calming and inviting about her honestly, and I’ve been curious about this world since I was a kid.
“What…” I begin, although the question is honestly random and out of nowhere. “What do you, well, I know it’s random, but, what do you raid? Other pirate ships?”
Her grin widens. “Pirating for us is about money, and ultimately, the treasures of the world. My ship has quarters to allow for passage for those who pay. Over half our income’s from that; otherwise, we target shipments to Belstead all along the south, and those have become more popular for my kind.” She frowns, the enjoyment of that thought clearly leaving her. “It’s almost a shame, as they’re starting to invent new, long-range weaponry. Removes the personal sacrifice of having to fight in close quarters.”
Long-range? That’s such an interesting aspect, and yet it feels so useless to me. Only hunters used bows and arrows, the weapons banned in Skull’s Row, and that’s the only knowledge of long-range that I know of. Prioritize surviving. “Why are you helping us?”
“Your father saved my daughter, once. She would absolutely be dead without him. I owe him by saving his child in return—to an extent. Your condition is much more demanding than his was to save mine. I’ll help as long as I can, although I consider my debt fully paid.”
A daughter? I want to ask more, but when our gazes connect, it’s as if she senses what I want to ask. “Go rest, Jane. You’ll need it. It can be tiring outrunning a god.”
“You have experience?” I ask with heavy sarcasm.
She smiles mischievously. “Of a certain kind.”
Anya leads me past the mess deck, my stomach growling at the smell of meat and onions. The moment we step through the door toward the private quarters, I reach for the wall to regain balance.
“I’ve already put in word to have whatever they’re serving brought to your room,” Anya comment. “Soren is waiting in there in the meantime.”
I nod, although she doesn’t see that. “Where’s my dad, by the way?”
“He’s with Tempest now, I believe. He was going in after you.”
I hate that I don’t see him at all, like he’s avoiding me intentionally. We managed to survive those creepy ass creatures together, and I'd just like to know how he is. Is his shoulder healing? It’s just… weird, not to have him check on me. “Where’s Bones?”
“Do you care about him now?” she teases.
“He knows where my friend is,” I quip.
“He got here early, with a delivery. He’s quite safe.” Her tone dips back into tedium.
We pass by a few areas that are a collection of hammocks, and then at the end of the extremely narrow hallway are seven doors, three on either side, and one in the back.
Anya guides me to the solitary one, nodding at the gilded handle. I enter the room, quickly shutting the rickety door when I spot Soren inside, wiping off the smudge around his eyes.
The sight of him in front of me eases the fear that had been gnawing at my insides. The space is small, but after seeing where the rest sleep, this is a luxury to have such privacy. The room has two hammocks, a small table nailed into the floor with a large, corked container, and an empty bowl. The way Soren uses it suggests we pour water in, gingerly, to avoid spilling out.
“Are there no beds?”
He laughs, the towel scraping against his stubble. “Better not ask that among the crew, or they’ll never let you live that down.” He glances my way, his eyes tired, his lashes slightly darkened from the paint, or ink, he used. “There’s hardly a bed on any ship. They get wet and rot, and this will help stave off seasickness.”
I peek out the small window we’re afforded, seeing nothing but the empty ocean. There’s something about being alone down here that makes it feel like we officially escaped. “I can’t believe we really made it out of there.” I glance at his back, the man’s powerful body moving to remove his weapons and armor. “Are you alright?” I ask, thinking maybe he’s injured and said nothing.
He looks over at me with that pale gaze, smirking. “I’m fine, love. Taking off this constricting shit. We’ll be at sea for at least two weeks, and Tempest has other clothes to wear that are better for the sea. Mold will grow, believe it or not. Damages the leather.”
If it weren’t for the darkness hanging over me, I almost might laugh at how interesting that is.
He grins slightly. “You think it’s funny?”
“No,” I quip, straightening my back, moving to a hammock to inspect it. “I just always thought pirates were fascinating as a kid, but I was never allowed near them. Never even realized they might be dressed differently because of the ocean.”
He pauses for a moment, like something crosses his mind that he might share, but tucks it back away. “There are bandanas, too. Keeps the salt off your hair.”
It’s so hard to hide the excitement of wearing a bandana on a pirate ship, let alone the Sea Wolf .
“It’s nice to feel you happy about something for once,” he loosely comments. “Take off your clothes. Dry them out and put these on.”
I rock my hip to the side. "What if we’re ambushed? Those clothes don’t look as protective.”
“ No one challenges the Sea Wolf in open water.”
“Blackwell has a god on his ship.”
Soren unbuckles his pants, still staring me down, those forearms working in distracting ways. He walks near me in the confined space, speaking lowly, “There are rumors that Tempest is entwined with the ocean god herself. Misery can’t touch her out here.” He leans in slightly. “Don’t repeat that. Don’t know what her crew knows, or what’s just a rumor.”
I’m a lost cause, because even the man simply undressing is an event of temptation. Everything he does is done with this undertone of cocky confidence that I find so annoyingly provocative.
It’s not even thoughts of Misery that repress what I feel, but more so, I can’t stand to think I’m wasting time on a ship when I could be training. I feel like a treasured jewel everyone keeps delicately passing around, and not a person whose heart festers with revenge. Or a person who has time to engage in anything romantic with another.
Especially after our escape just now.
Soren slides his belt out in a fluid motion that it completely pulls me out of a trance… maybe just an hour with him. He places it on a hook on the wall and then comes over to touch my hair. It’s so damn calming that I have this overwhelming need to bury my face into him and pretend like none of this has happened. Staring at his muscled chest donning the Zenith tattoo brings me right back to all the times we spent alone in rooms such as these.
“Until we’re back on land, enjoy the safety of being on the Sea Wolf. There’s nothing safer on the ocean. We’re only docking because we can’t hide on the waters forever. At least Tempest needs to resupply for that, if it comes down to it.”
I want to be vulnerable with someone, and desire Kathleen without thought, from habit. He grips my hair and pulls my head to the side. “You can be vulnerable with me .”
I can’t help but smile, my bones melting at how uncouth he can be, especially when he wants a part of me.
“I feel like this is why I’ve been running for my whole life, and I also can’t escape it. While also feeling like I just want to breathe every breath with the intention to kill Misery.”
He seems to think on that, a dark approval lacing in his gaze. “I’ve lived with that very revenge for years, Jane. I know what it means. You can join in on the mock combat when it happens on deck, and we can plot whatever, too. It doesn’t have to be wasted time.”
I stare into his gaze that darkens, knitted brows crowning them, and I give him a questioning expression. “Does it bother you to let that go? That revenge?”
Soren’s gaze roams my face before pulling back to sit on his hammock, his entire abdomen flexing as he sits. “No. I trust you’ll find her, and that’s the important part. If anything, the world is playing out in ways that make sense now.
“I tried to befriend Matthias, actually. Slowly, because of his connection across the Black Sea, where I thought my sister was. Until my instinct screamed to stay away from him. Now I know why.” He chuckles, and I start to remove the top layers of my clothes while he watches. “Can’t believe you’re a Zenith slayer. Didn’t realize the danger I was in back in the Black House.”
My attempt to stifle a laugh is a complete failure. “I kept telling you, you were lucky I was bound.”
A crooked grin spreads across his face before he looks down to laugh more, then flits that icy gaze right back up at me, tilting his head slightly. “Would you kill a Zenith for me?” he asks, although it’s more like a fun question than something serious, like he’s curious what I’d say.
“I’m taking on a miserable god so you can live and see your family. A Zenith would just be calamity.”
He looks at me— really looks at me—like even though he has scourged my soul, he still wants more. I didn’t mean for that comment to affect him, but it’s enough that he motions with his fingers for me to near him.
An impish grin unintentionally plasters itself right on my face, removing my shirt at the perfect moment so once I’m in relative arm’s length, he leans over to wrap that powerful grip around me like looped rope. His lips fiercely press into mine, scruff rubbing against my face in a collision of desire that is layered with emotions I don’t think I’m prepared to feel. He tugs me closer until I’m nestled between his thighs as he leans further into the hammock. His radiating heat envelopes me, our flesh warm when pressed together, and it dawns on me that I’m not just kissing him for sex, but purely for comfort.
Being wrapped in his deadly arms is a safety no amount of coin can buy.
As I embrace that feeling, his grip on me grows firmer, his tongue spreading my lips, my hands roaming his thick shoulders and neck. What used to be a foreign touch is so familiar now, his hands so rough against my skin, but I love it; any other way, and it wouldn’t be him .
The remainder of our clothes are discarded easily, having seen the shapes of each other many times by now. I just want him bare, so my skin can be against his warmth. There’s nothing like being cold all day, craving heat, to then get it from another.
He makes me feel genuinely taken care of, that gratitude swelling with each kiss, my heart so wide and open to him that the sinking feeling from earlier, of the thoughts about losing him, weighs deep in my belly.
I can’t lose him.
I can’t live the rest of my days without having this.
Words that seem to slip off the tongue too easily when emotions are high nearly spill out, but he can feel it—shit. I can’t even hide that .
He smiles into the kiss, his hands roaming the expanse of my bare back, down to my ass cheek as he squeezes it hard, his fingers gripping deeper and lower, just barely grazing against my pussy. We grow wilder, and hungrier, riding this wave of passion together, and I crave deeply to hear him say the things I feel.
He’s right—warfare is the best time to be like this with another.
My world is utterly consumed with him, my weight placed entirely on him, the hammock surprisingly taking the both of us, his legs still balancing us while planting his feet on the floor. My thighs spread around him as his cock presses between our stomachs; positioned just right, his cock slides against my clit. Gods, he’s the best escape. I let my heart wander dangerously in feelings that could destroy me forever if he abuses them.
And this time, I don’t soften that, and instead simply embrace it, because I want to.
As our bodies move against each other with an intoxicating rhythm, I can taste the tang of salt on his skin. Soren lifts me by placing both hands on my ass, his cock hard and ready to pierce.
“Say you’re mine, Jane,” he says, gripping my hips to line me up with him. Even if I’m on top, I’m nowhere near being in control. “And mean it, in more than flesh.”
Fuck, that turns me on in ways that ignite my heart. “You know I’m yours, Soren.” I hover my nose close to his, my pussy still ready to be filled with him. “Tell me you’re mine.”
His eyes flare with desire, and his cock slides in so quickly, a gasp escapes my lips, rolling into a moan when my body feels so full . That sound deepens when my body lowers even further, so my clit grazes against his veined skin. I try to be quiet because I assume these walls aren’t terribly thick, and this is between us right now.
His arm wraps around my back, the other still gripping my rear to keep me in place and help me rock with him. “My fixation has belonged to you since I first saw you tear apart that room,” he says, finding a rhythm as flesh connects. A few pants are shared. “Whatever magic is in me is so focused on you, love, I have no control over it,” he grunts, breathing raggedly. “I’m yours whether you like it or not.” The greed and vulnerability that bleed from his face completely undo me. “Which means you have the power to break me, Jane. No one has that.”
His unyielding cock drives into me, his muscled chest heaving as his arms flex with each stroke of his hips into me.
“ Soren ,” I moan, giving him all of me, a tingling electricity shooting throughout.
I’ve never made love or anything like this, but this has to be what it is. Or fuck it, I don’t care. The rough hammock is an odd sensation when my arm or leg grazes against it, and yet I love how foreign this place is while he’s the only thing I know.
I arch my back as he’s unwavering in how deep he fucks me. “Fuck me until you come, Jane.”
Well, that helps surge pleasure through me, my hips rocking so my clit rubs against him, my eyes partially rolling as a deep and fulfilling pleasure hits me square inside. Holy shit, this feels good.
His eyes are locked with mine, searing my skin with their intensity. He hasn’t quite looked at me like this before, as if the confession of him being mine has unleashed a more possessive side.
“Use me, Jane. Fuck my cock like it’s yours.” The hammock rocks with us, my gasps turning to whimpers as I clench around his cock. His bruising grip on my hips pushes me harder to the edge, tightening every time I tense or hold my breath to catch that wave of ecstasy. Then it strikes me, that feeling that just a little more… my eyes widen, but my focus blurs, Soren’s eyes so fierce they may as well brand me.
After my orgasm floods my body, clenching his cock like it’s meant to be there, Soren works solely for his own pleasure and pushes so hard into me that I gasp, my pussy completely devouring every inch of him. I dip my chin to glance at the crevice where our skin is flush, watching his stomach contract as he spills into me, panting in my face.
There’s so much satisfaction inside my body that I want to slap him.
Soren keeps us this way by not letting me budge an inch, and I cave while laying my head on his shoulder, his stubbled jaw at my forehead. His hand caresses the curve of my ass, and I swear I feel his heart beating against mine as his cock rests inside of my body.
My entire being is wide open to him, this man successfully cradling my heart in his hand.
We finally reposition, and somehow, we both end up fitting in one hammock. “I’m shocked this isn’t breaking,” I say, my body melting against his.
“I asked for this room because this one handles heavier weight.”
Once I’m no longer afraid of it breaking, I close my eyes as our bodies hang in the air, the hammock ensuring we’re properly intertwined. It’s absolutely perfect; I love lying next to him. I can’t help it.
Is falling for a man as simple as this? It feels like something more needs to happen, a big epiphany. These feelings blossomed on their own accord without much transition.
That caress gently grips my hair, and he kisses my head. He pauses for a while, his breath warm against my scalp. “I’m sorry today shook you, with your father.”
My eyes part, and I stare at the details of his skin that’s taught around muscles. “My dad acts like I don’t matter, and yet I can’t stand the idea of him dying.”
“You do matter to him. I can tell. I think there’s a reason he’s doing what he’s doing.” My head rises and falls when his chest pulses with a laugh. “He keeps asking what I want with you.”
I grin ear to ear, although more so at the thought of Soren being pressed about his feelings for me. “Oh, I’d love to hear that answer.”
He chuckles, the sound deep and masculine. “Wouldn’t be much. I won’t tell him shit. He doesn’t get to see that side of me. No one does, except you.”
He leans forward and kisses my forehead while circling his rough finger on my exposed shoulder. I nestle my face closer to his chest, kissing his skin. The moment is so much tender than before, my eyes closing with ease as if this moment is meant to be. As I let feelings bleed out that can only be described as love, he continues to gently touch me as we sway in the hammock as the ship sails.