Chapter 20 #2
In turn, Syoran and I knew that failing to find The Eyes of Ellira—or rather the Eye—wasn’t an option, and we led with that in mind.
Where some viewed our oversight as problematic and often forceful, those who walked alongside us had learned that our methods stemmed from a desire to ensure their livelihood.
We’d vowed our lives to them just as much as they had to us. It was a sworn decision I hadn’t taken lightly, and each of them knew that.
As if to display our established relationship, our men moved without question. Falling into their informed roles, they worked together to accomplish what Syoran had requested, and so our journey continued.
Allowing my gaze to wander, I noted the individuals who’d quickly become family. My lips curled as I observed their unique mannerisms and habitual tendencies. They were things I’d become well-acquainted with throughout our time together, and often admired far more than I’d ever let on.
Satisfied with their swift cooperation, I chased the stare I’d felt ever since I’d come to. It was the same looming presence that’d penetrated my soul ever since we’d met, and when I finally landed on the sterncastle deck, I found her.
Saph looked down at us, maintaining her position as navigator behind the large wheel she commanded with simplistic ease. Though her taut expression conveyed the second role she carried: quartermaster.
Her fingers wrapped around its blackened wood, seeming to taint its design with the heated envy in her sinking gaze. Sparing me a fraction of her time, her caramel irises ignited with countless unspoken words before they shifted to fix on the woman who stood in front of me.
Amused, I chuckled under my breath before glancing back down at Rohen, who remained unmoved. “I am thoroughly surprised you elected to stick around, little siren. By the gods, you had every moment to flee.”
“And where would I go, my lovely captor?” she hissed, her lips curling into an undeniable sneer.
“Well, considering how you spoke of me after so graciously saving my life, I figured you’d prefer to take your chance with the Tide Eaters than remain on my ship a second longer.”
Scoffing, she flattened her palm against my bare chest, shoving me back. “You’re unbearable.”
As her footfalls drummed past me, I let every step she took spark her dimming sense of self-preservation, a hope I planned to snuff out with the mere pinch of my fingertips.
One step quickly turned to four, and I rocked back on my heels.
Shifting my weight, I turned, grabbing hold of her wrist and yanking her back toward me.
Spiced citrus consumed my senses as the distance between us vanished, and I devoured it greedily. “I don’t believe you were excused.”
Her chin shot toward me, revulsion seeping through her features. “I’ve fucking excused myself and will see my way to my humble abode.”
“I’m honored you’ve found comfort in the cell I’ve elected to keep you in. I figured it would provide a sense of belonging, considering Malrik has kept you shackled to him by your throat and cunt for decades.”
Her eye twitched once, and then she came undone.
Driving forward, she slammed her shoulder into my chest, sending the two of us toward the door of the galley.
Willfully, I gave her the reins, intrigued by just how far she would go and surprised by the strength she concealed within her slim frame.
With her free hand, she found the dagger she clung to like a lifeline, and as my back met the wall, she raised it to greet my Adam’s apple.
“I will fucking kill you, Caspian Vayne.”
Craning my head to the side, I grinned. “Yeah, will you, Rohen Levitte? Because last I checked, you’ve been presented many opportunities to do just that, and you’ve allowed them to slip from your hold every fucking time.”
“I don’t have to explain my decisions to you.” Seething, she pressed forward, the sharpened steel nicking the scar that resided there.
“Go ahead then, little siren.” My tongue danced over my lips as I reached down, securing a far harsher grasp on her wrist. With the blade under my control, I forced her closer, granting the blade access to bury deeper into my skin.
“Since you wish for my death so fondly, draw my blood and claim my life as yours, darling.”
Her brow dipped, an influx of clashing emotions consuming her entrancing emerald stare.
Where there was bloodlust, wrath, and an undesirable urge to do exactly as she claimed, something else lingered, something preventing her from summoning my blood with her preferred weapon.
Catching its presence, I studied it for a moment, unable to decipher what it entailed.
But I knew it was the furthest thing from hatred.
Tightening my grip, I pulled her closer, her chest coming to rest just below mine.
Her breath hitched, lips parting just enough for it to become audible.
With our bodies pressed together, that same spark reignited with a flame that was unwilling to die, no matter how much she wished to suffocate it.
“Well,” I crooned mockingly, leaning down until my forehead met hers. “What are you waiting for?”
Silence enveloped us, our gazes locked on one another with every intention we wished to unleash. Where she wanted to gut me, I wished to drown her. Where she yearned to gain autonomy, I desired to lock her away. Where she craved to witness my last fleeting breath, I craved to devour hers.
We were far too similar, in far too many dangerous ways, and I knew the unrelenting loathing between us would not cease until Elaros opened his arms for one of us.
“Fuck you,” she growled between clenched teeth, her arm shaking as she battled between mind and heart—between logic and instinct.
My fingers unfurled from her wrist, providing her with one last opportunity to end me if she so pleased.
But she didn’t. Instead, her internalized conflict continued, and the way her breath hitched in my proximity, along with the looming threat she presented but lacked in execution, did something to me.
“Oh, my little siren.” My cock twitched, and I bit my cheek with enough force to draw blood, its coppery tang stabilizing every intrusive ideation. “If you wish to partake in such activities, you know where my quarters are.”
“I will cut off your pathetic excuse for a prick before I ever—”
Leaning forward further, my lips brushed against her ear, and I leveraged the very dialogue she’d so willingly tossed my direction. “Careful, Levitte, I may start liking the way desperation smells on you.”
“I fear, Captain Vayne, that you may be confusing desperation for disgust, but don’t fret, I’d expect nothing less from someone as self-centered as you.”
“Self-centered?” I chuckled, pulling away from her only to tuck a loose strand of her damp hair behind her ear. “Oh, darling, it’s called owning the assets you know you have. Though if you’re that keen on gaining insight, I’m sure Saph would love to enlighten you on just how large I am.”
The clearing of a throat confirmed my suspicions, my eyes lifting to find the woman I’d just referenced standing a few feet behind Rohen. “Captain.”
“Ah, the woman of the hour.” Shoving Rohen away from me, I moved past her, training my stare on Saph. “Is there something you need?”
“We just received mail via pigeon.” She shifted, revealing a rolled piece of parchment, extending it to me backhandedly.
“From whom?”
Allowing her billowing agitation to lead the charge, I quickly became the target she wished to unleash on. “Oh, none other than Alastair Seridean. It appears your best friend has risen from the dead with a score to settle, love.”