Chapter 20 Prince Sloth #3
Even if I decided to invite Lore into my bed, she would not be satisfied with keeping our emotions out of the equation.
She would want the fairy-tale ending like the heroines in her favorite romance books.
And that was a life I could never offer her.
With a sigh, I shook my head to clear those thoughts and reached for a spare pillow, tossing it onto the hardwood floor.
There was no logical reason for me to be thinking of anything other than passing this current Trial and trying to locate the Liber Noctem before the Trials ended.
When I returned home, I’d need to find a physical release. It had been far too long since I’d engaged in any carnal activities.
I lay down beside the bed, the coolness of the floor seeping through my tunic, and tried to quiet my mind.
I focused on the rhythm of my breathing, willing myself to think of nothing at all. Sometimes my thoughts were too loud, too complex.
It was a downside to my sin—the unquenchable thirst for knowledge that was never sated.
I’d had to work hard over the years to fortify my mental shields to avoid getting lost in too many theories and facts.
Yet Lore had managed to tear her way through those walls.
With chocolate cake, no less.
She was my opposite in all ways, except when it came to our love of books.
I rolled onto my side.
I should be focusing all my efforts on tracking Xavier and the Liber Noctem through the stories.
And yet my mind refused to relinquish its hold on the mystery of the dreamweaver. My sin languidly turned over every interaction, searching for clues to my strange behavior around her.
Did the tattoo and whatever magic the ink contained somehow bind me to her and the Trials? I wasn’t sure that was even possible, but I was desperate for any excuse.
I was caught in a vexing web of uncertainty, unsure if my emotions were stirred by the nightmare realm itself or if there was a more innocent explanation for my muddled feelings for her.
Perhaps I simply needed to take a dip in the cold ocean to clear my head.
With that settled, I forced my mind to empty and drifted off into a dreamless slumber.
I’d left a breakfast tray and note for Lore and left our room by dawn.
The morning sun poured its intense heat onto the ship’s deck as I pushed through a rigorous workout, my skin glistening with sweat.
I gripped the coarse, weathered ropes and hoisted myself up into the rigging, feeling the strain in my arms and shoulders.
The burn felt good, distracting. It was exactly what I needed after last night.
The ropes creaked under my weight, and the salty breeze brushed against my face. Climbing took all my focus, my mind blissfully distracted with the physical exertion of the workout.
Reaching the top, I paused to catch my breath and study our surroundings.
The horizon stretched endlessly before me, still with no island in sight.
Frustration built inside me again. The Liber Noctem had to be out there, close by.
I swore it was toying with me, stoking my emotions.
Thankfully, it hadn’t caused any unrest on the ship, though.
The crew was still cautious around me, but they were treading carefully, not plotting a revolt.
I swept my attention across the ocean one more time before letting myself down in a controlled descent.
My muscles ached with each climb, but a sense of satisfaction pulsed through me as I repeated the cycle, savoring the challenge and the rhythm of my movements. Sweat dripped from my brow, and I shook it from my face.
I’d just pulled myself up into the crow’s nest when a hush fell over the crew.
I glanced down to see what had caught their complete attention.
Lore strode onto the deck with confident steps, her new leather trousers hugging her frame. I couldn’t help but take in the full effect of her new clothing.
She’d tucked the shirt in to grant her more freedom of movement, but the sleeves fluttered slightly in the breeze, giving her a decidedly feminine touch.
The curved sword in her hand caught the sunlight, but it didn’t feel half as dangerous as the woman holding it.
Her dark hair was tightly braided and intricately pinned to her crown, adorned with glittering jewels from the treasure chest she must have raided from the captain’s quarters.
She looked every inch the pirate queen from her story.
Instead of appearing absurd, she exuded an undeniable authority and charisma.
One that appeared to be contagious, as the crew all respectfully bowed their heads. She sauntered across the deck, adding an extra swagger to her stride.
I’d never been more intrigued by a pirate.
My heart thumped wildly in my chest.
I took a deep breath to gather my wits, but the salty air suddenly seemed to cling to my skin, and it was far more irritating than refreshing as I tried to steady myself.
She caught sight of me and raised her curved blade, its edge gleaming dangerously in the morning light.
Her voice carried over the sound of the waves, loud and commanding.
“We need to talk, Blondie.”
Some of the crew snickered at the nickname.
I arched a brow. She was enjoying bossing me around and using that horrid name way too much.
And yet, I found myself wrapping my fingers tightly around the ropes and descending swiftly from the rigging without complaint or protest.
The ropes strained against my grip as I maneuvered down, my muscles taut under the effort.
I released my hold and dropped the last few feet, landing with a muted thud on the weathered deck before her.
Straightening up, I noticed her eyes were riveted to my bare chest, her focus as sharp and unwavering as the blade she held.
“Did you summon me here just to stare, Peaches?”
She wrenched her gaze to mine. “We’re supposed to be a team, but you left me.”
I motioned to the rigging. “Only to work out.”
“What would have happened if I suddenly shifted stories, or faced a test, and left you here?”
“I would have tracked you down.”
I wasn’t sure why I knew, without any doubt, that I could. But it was a certainty I didn’t question.
She shook her head. “Really? You would have escaped this story and somehow found a way into the next?”
I would have cleaved the realm apart if I must.
I opened my senses to glean why Lore was so upset, but she’d somehow managed to lock her emotions away.
Or I was suddenly unable to use that power.
I was at a loss. Clearly, there was some emotional component I was missing.
“What are you really upset about?”
She gave me a look that said I was an idiot but changed the subject.
“Your tattoo is glowing again.” She slid her gaze from the ink to my eyes. “Why?”
My jaw tensed. I loathed the foreign power claiming my body and at the same time felt strangely attached to it. Shaking that dichotomy away, I was starting to have a pretty good theory about why it reacted.
I debated my next move. I could shrug it off or be truthful.
I leaned in and pressed my mouth close to her ear.
“Because your imperious commands are making me plot wicked things, when I should be focused on more immediate threats, Peaches.”
“I’m not following.”
My magic detected a partial lie, but if she wanted me to lay it out there to avoid any misunderstandings, so be it.
We needed to cut this beast’s head off before it grew worse.
“When I remember all the clever, wicked, ridiculous things you say, I start thinking about your mouth. And my sin demands I analyze why I’m fascinated by it.”
I stepped back slightly, allowing myself a clearer view of her face.
Her brows were arched high, her lips parted in surprise.
I shouldn’t reach out but found myself doing it anyway.
I traced my thumb softly along the curve of her lower lip, feeling its smoothness and the subtle warmth beneath.
“Is it the shape? The fullness? The way you playfully taunt me at every turn? Or is it simply your mind that’s ensnared me?”
Her gaze flicked to my mouth and lingered there.
The inquisitiveness in her eyes called to my sin, a silent language that spoke of mutual curiosity and something more.
It was a dangerous thing, that gaze, as if it could unravel my secrets and stir emotions I’d locked away for safekeeping with just a look.
I threw all caution to the wind and laid it out for her, being far more forthright than I’d ever been with anyone. Maybe it was magic egging me on, maybe it was part of her test, or maybe I just wanted to.
“I believe the tattoo reacts to any surge in my emotions. Last night, I realized the chocolate on your lips wasn’t the only thing I’d wanted to taste. So, Peaches, once I start thinking of your mouth, eventually I imagine all the ways I’d put it to use. And that is a line we cannot cross.”