Chapter 21 Lore
TWENTY-ONE
Lore
FOR A MOMENT, it felt like the sea itself held its breath.
Sloth, the cool, calm, collected Prince of Sin, just fed into one of my favorite romance scenes. And I was too damned annoyed to fully appreciate it.
Or his beautiful, shimmering, sweat-slicked muscles.
There really was no justice in this nightmare realm.
“Don’t try to distract me with fun tropes.” I pointed my blade at him, impressed I held the sword steadily. It was much heavier than I thought it’d be. I seriously needed to work on gaining some upper-body strength. “Are you saying the tattoo is manipulating your emotions?”
“No.” He gave me a flat look. “I’m saying I left our room because if I stayed, I would have been tempted to climb into bed with you. And I’m… frustrated.”
Which didn’t actually rule out my tattoo theory.
It was taking much longer to process his admission. I blamed the aforementioned sweaty muscles of wonder. Training montages were a weakness.
And intentionally or not, he’d put on one heck of a show.
He might have been the one working out, but I was the only one breathless.
Once I got beyond that distraction, I figured he wasn’t talking about sleeping. And that fact made my heart do a series of strange gymnastics in my chest.
Of course, being the kind of secret deviant I was, I’d let my thoughts wander. Having Prince Sloth in my bed would probably ruin me for life.
Before I could respond or stop thinking about creative ways of using the rigging in my daydream, he continued.
“You and I are partners for the duration of the Trials only. I don’t want to confuse the issue and create distractions by giving in to passing physical desires.”
Ouch. I rubbed at my chest, wondering if he’d somehow snagged my sword and pierced my heart with it.
Lord Killjoy wasn’t done.
“You’re pleasing to the eye and, more importantly, to the mind, but I’m not looking for love or romance. It’s best to understand that now. Being tempted to relieve stress is logical, considering the circumstances, and it would undoubtedly feel incredible, but it’s a complication we can ill afford.”
I narrowed my gaze on him. The prince doth protest too mucheth.
“You put an awful lot of thought into something that’s never going to happen. If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t tried to kiss you, you overconfident ass. But you certainly stood in the way of my top fictional crush kissing me. Do you have any idea how hard it was to walk away from Logan Blaze?”
Seriously, if I was facing almost certain death with the book of doom, the prince could have at least let me have one last kiss.
A girl needed a little something good to cling to in the darkest hours.
Suddenly, my chest brushed against his, the thin fabric of my shirt grazing his bare skin.
His eyes locked onto mine with a force that made my heart race.
“Next time one of your crushes tries to bed you, I’ll give you space.”
The air between us crackled with tension, a charged energy that left me uncertain if he’d actually managed to lie.
I wondered if he knew that not only had his mask of cold indifference slipped, but his face was wholly unguarded for once.
The prince wasn’t looking at me like he wanted to braid my hair and talk about boys like we were the bestest of friends.
He looked like he wanted to tie me up in the rigging and make me beg.
And that made heat pool low in my belly.
I seriously doubted he’d be fine with leaving me alone with someone like Logan.
Maybe this was part of my test, somehow. I certainly wanted to push him.
“Good, try not to kill them either.”
I couldn’t decide if the heat in his gaze signaled his longing to lean in for a kiss despite all his many reasons to avoid one, or if there was a darker, more troubling intent lurking beneath the surface.
He stared down at me, a storm brewing within his eyes.
“As long as we’re both on the same page.”
“Same book, same scene,” I said sweetly. “If Logan appears again, you’ll give us time alone. They say an alpha’s kiss is almost as addictive as one from the Wicked. What do you think, is there any truth to that?”
He jerked back as if I’d slapped him.
I raised a brow at his visceral reaction. He didn’t care, my booty.
“I’ve always been curious to test that theory. Since you don’t want to indulge me, I’ll just have to hope Logan comes back.”
Before I could decipher the new flash in his gaze, he leaned in swiftly, and his mouth descended on mine with an unexpected intensity.
His kiss was scorching, a stark contrast to the icy demeanor. And by the gods, it lived up to every rumor ever spread about the Wicked.
I should not be kissing him back after his lovely happily-never-after speech.
But my resistance crumbled faster than some third-act breakups, and I found myself melting into the fervor of the moment.
I kissed him back without limits, unleashing all my romantic cravings.
His hands were strong and steady as they cupped my cheeks, tilting my face upward to meet his. He knew exactly what he was doing by angling my mouth for better access. He didn’t plunder or commandeer.
His tactic was much, much more enticing. The kiss wasn’t fast or brutal; it was a controlled, languid, maddening descent into overwhelming desire.
My entire body responded. My fingers slid down his sweat-slicked chest, and the heat in my belly grew.
His tongue traced the seam of my lips, finally coaxing them apart, and I opened up, inviting him in with a breathless sigh.
If I was drowning in desire before, I was wholly consumed by it now.
His kiss was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
It was an education in seduction, as if he were savoring every moment of the lesson while simultaneously driving me insane.
A tingling sensation spread through me, like a warm current coursing through my veins. His lips moved against mine with a practiced grace, and the world around us faded away.
There was only the prince, standing before me, and this earth-shattering kiss that seemed to suspend time itself.
He kissed me like it was the beginning and ending of the greatest love story ever told, like he’d live and die in the span of this one moment.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.
He stepped back, his chest rising and falling as hard as mine was.
For a moment, silence reigned, enveloping us in a cocoon of stillness as we stared at each other. That was the most intense experience of my life.
Then, like a wave breaking against the shore, our surroundings crashed back into focus with a cacophony of sound.
The pirates erupted into a chorus of whistles and hollers, their voices clamoring for an encore, their raucous laughter echoing across the deck.
I’d forgotten we had an audience.
Whatever impulse had driven the prince to kiss me seemed to evaporate into the humid air, leaving no trace behind.
“I apologize for my actions,” he stated, his tone clipped and formal. “It won’t happen again.”
With a swift turn on his heel, he snatched his rumpled tunic from the planks and strode purposefully toward the captain’s quarters, his footsteps echoing with finality.
I stood there, fingers pressed to my swollen lips, the warmth of his kiss still lingering. I hadn’t even caught my breath yet, and he was almost gone.
My mind spun in a whirlwind of confusion, trying to grasp what the hells had just happened.
He’d given a million reasons why we could never happen.
Then he’d gone ahead and kissed me anyway.
And, quite infuriatingly, it was the best kiss of my life. At least until he’d apologized, then walked off like it was nothing special.
Total villain behavior.
Or maybe, a darker voice whispered, maybe it had been part of the test. And he’d had no more control over his actions than anyone else at the Liber Noctem’s mercy.
Kensington approached slowly, his expression filled with sympathy.
I glanced up at the sky, wondering why there was no black hole swirling overhead to suck me into the abyss.
There was never a decent plot twist when it would be highly beneficial.
“Eddie o’er there offered t’teach you to wield a sword.” He grinned a toothless smile that warmed my heart. “Stabbin’ things always makes us feel better.”
I inhaled deeply, letting the briny air fill my lungs, and then slowly exhaled.
My emotions were all over the place.
Either I was going to march after the prince and demand he do that again to prove he’d been in control and wanted to, or I was going to dive headfirst into the ocean to put myself out of my misery.
Neither seemed like the most prudent option.
Perhaps Eddie was right.
Maybe if I learned to wield a sword, I’d feel less rejected.
Or, at the very least, I’d have better aim.
“Okay,” I said with cheerful determination, “let’s go stab things.”
Training with a pirate was an unforgettable adventure.
One I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to repeat. Training always seemed fun in books, but the reality was much less thrilling.
My shirt clung to me, my skin itched from the sweat and sunburn I was getting from being out on the water in full sun, and I was pretty sure I pulled a few muscles I never knew existed before today.
Eddie didn’t instruct me in the art of fighting with any sense of honor or decorum; instead, he was a gritty brawler, unafraid to employ any tactic necessary to win.
It didn’t matter that I had no experience. In fact, I got the impression he might be a bit of a sadist himself. He certainly seemed to enjoy my suffering.
He lunged forward, his sword reflecting the sunlight so harshly that my eyes teared up, then made a quick, deceptive motion as if to strike on my left.
Just as I braced for the impact, he pivoted sharply, his foot whipping out in a blur, and took my legs out from under me.
I barely registered the move before feeling the unexpected force against the back of my legs.
My balance wavered, and the ground rushed up to meet me as I landed hard on my backside, the shock of the fall vibrating up my spine.
I stared at him, and he smiled brightly.