CHAPTER 5 #2
A moment later he collects himself and stands, removing his cloak, handing it to me while his gaze flicks to the door.
“Put this on and come with me.”
I dip my chin in agreement and let the silence I’m accustomed to with the shadow master fill the room as he turns his back to me. Savoring the stormy scent that lingers on his cloak, I drape it over a silk dress pulled from my wardrobe and follow him out into the night.
I’m relieved to find that the deck is empty topside. There is no doubt in my mind that he knew we would have it to ourselves. He has never been dismissive of any risk where I am concerned, not when he can help it. The captain alone stands at the wheel, looking past me as if I am merely a phantom.
Smart man.
Leaning against the bow of the ship, I pull in a lungful of fresh crisp air, then another, and another. With greater effort than I will admit aloud, I manage to still the slight tremor of my body and let the cool sea breeze have a go at dampening the beast that roils inside me.
“It’s gotten worse,” he says, his eyes on the sea.
It isn’t a question, but I nod once.
“Leanna doesn’t know?” he asks, but he already knows the answer.
I just look at him skeptically and shake my head. She would never grant me a mission if she did. I would have been cast into her minor collection of broken Drakai who never quite made the cut.
“Of course she doesn’t,” he sighs.
I try to keep my mind off the bloody woman that haunts my dreams. I focus instead on the way the moonlight ripples across the waves.
Lulled by the sound of the sea being cleaved apart by the ship as the wind pushes it through the open water.
The early spring air is even colder out at sea.
It fills my hood, spooling around my cheeks and whipping chilly tendrils across the back of my neck.
I watch Vakesh from the corner of my eye. His jaw feathers and relaxes, his body following suit. His lips form a thin, hard line, disrupting the masculine beauty of his normal jovial smile.
“We can disembark in Daidron. I will come up with an excuse for our delay. Perhaps there is someone there that can help with—”
I whip my head around to face him. “Absolutely not. There is no need.”
“Don’t be prideful, Shivaria.”
I pinch my mouth shut, unsure if I am more offended by the implication that I am too prideful or the fact that he used my full name.
“You don’t simply walk into the north and find yourself accepted into the king’s presence. It could take weeks or even months before you are accepted to court and if anyone witnesses this in the meantime—”
“You think a fitful sleep will disqualify me?” I challenge weakly, knowing the answer.
“A fitful sleep?” he balks, and when I roll my eyes, he grabs my arm and brings me to face him fully.
“A fitful sleep?” he repeats in a harsh whisper.
“Call it what you want but remember that I have seen for myself what you call a fitful sleep. You might have gone unnoticed if you only woke fearful, but you wake as if you are in the middle of an eternal battle raging around you, ready to send haliel every soul within reach.”
“I can control it,” I lie.
“How?” he demands but he does not wait for an answer before holding up a finger.
“Fighting, which you will not be doing in A’kori.
” He holds up a second finger. “Drinking, and while I don’t altogether disagree with an occasional numbing of the senses, you can’t go to bed drunk every night and expect to be considered suitable for society.
” He holds up a third finger, faltering, and I quirk a brow.
“Focing?”
He swallows a lump in his throat and his face falls into a perfectly placid mask.
“Also, not an option,” he says lamely.
The child in me wants to argue about perceived moral virtue but I understand why he protests.
If it comes to it, the king will find me more appealing with the assurance of my virginity.
Though, I have no doubt I will have to find another way to end the male.
Falling far from the standard of beauty does not lend me any favors as Fea Dien.
Frustrated, my eyes shift back to the sea, the edges of the water now barely contrasted by the grey light of early dawn. I push off the bow and take myself below deck into my cramped quarters. Vakesh follows closing the door behind us before leaning against the wall to observe me.
“I’m not abandoning my mission,” I insist, pacing the small space.
“I am not asking you to abandon it, Vari. I am simply suggesting that you delay it. I, more than anyone, want to see you on the shores of A’kori, accepted into the presence of the king so that all of this might end.”
“You know as well as I do that a delay could set us back years. Help me find another way,” I beg.
“Other ways are not for you,” he says.
“But there are other ways?” I stop my pacing and sit on the edge of my cot, looking to him for the answers I desperately seek.
“Pitch.” He shrugs. “But it would take too long to find you a supply and even then, if you were caught…”
Pitch. The drug is illegal on the whole of the southern continent and widely used by battle worn Drakai to assist in a dreamless sleep.
It is highly addictive, and I have known more than one who died after overindulging in the teeth blackening substance.
Though the more common death associated with the drug is starvation.
While oblivion has its appeal, it can quickly become all-consuming.
Hours on the drug can easily turn into days or weeks of caring for nothing but the promise of the void.
“The fact that you are actually considering pitch concerns me,” he says, pulling me back into the conversation with a worried frown.
“A small amount, to sleep through the night,” I argue.
“Put it out of your mind. I shouldn’t have suggested it.”
“If not pitch, then what else?”
His eyes survey the floor, and he clears his throat. “Pitch, drinking, fighting, they all offer a similar release,” he nearly chokes on the last word, “an oblivion that all Drakai come to desperately crave. Can you think of nothing else that might offer you the same … reprieve?”
I think for a moment before answering. “No. Nothing. What else is there?”
He curses and rubs the back of his neck. Squeezing his eyes shut, his head falls back against the wall with a thud. “Leanna should have been the one to teach you.”
“Teach me what?” I laugh uncomfortably at the uneasiness he is so obviously feeling.
It has never been this way between us, and I do not care for his parsing of words or the invisible wall he’s built with the mask he wears.
He eyes me from across the room, exhales sharply, and turns to go, stopping just before his hand grasps the lever on the door.
His hand flexes and he spins on his heel, striding back across the room and pulling the chair to the edge of the bed before depositing himself in it.
“Surely,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, “Leanna taught you something of what to expect should you find yourself alone with a man in his chambers?”
I roll my eyes and huff a laugh. “In fact, she did not. Leanna is of the opinion that I am more appealing to men if those things remain somewhat of a mystery. And she has every intention of utilizing that naivete in whatever way she can.”
Even I can hear the bitterness in my voice at my admission that Leanna continues to mold me for her own ends. Perhaps leaving me lacking in a way that I never expected.
Vakesh buries his face between his hands and shakes his head.
“I’m not completely ignorant,” I reassure him. “I do understand the … act.” I flush despite myself.
“The act?” He blanches.
“The expectation,” I say, hoping it is an appropriate correction, as I throw my arms in the air.
“Stars above,” he swears, looking up as if he is offering a silent prayer to the heavens.
“Why are we even talking about this?” I sigh deeply, rolling my shoulders and willing the muscles in my neck to relax.
“I’m not sure you want me teaching you this lesson,” he says without looking me in the eye.
“You said Leanna should have already taught me—”
He falls into a fitful laugh before I can finish, and soon his eyes begin to water in the fashion of true humor. A laugh bubbles up within my chest to join him, though I have no idea what he finds so funny.
“Leanna should have, though I expect she would have a much different way of going about it.” He shrugs thoughtfully. “Though, for all I know she would go about it in exactly the same fashion.”
His eyes glint with thoughts unknown while they fully take me in.
“All right,” he says with a look of determination.
“All right?” I say, brows pitching low.
“I shouldn’t have to say this, but it needs to be said.” He unclasps the cloak I wear and pushes it off my shoulders. “It’s hard not to take some lessons to heart, and this is one you can’t afford to take personally. Understand?”
“Yes,” I answer easily.
In the years I have known him he’s taught me many harsh lessons and never have I taken any to heart. Resilience, for all my failings, is a skill I have in abundance. He pinches my chin between his thumb and finger, drawing my eyes to his.
“You don’t understand,” he says flatly. “But you must, so just don’t forget it.”
He stands, dropping his hold on the cloak and motions for me to stand with him.
I don’t hesitate and as soon as I am on my feet, he wraps a hand around my waist, pulling me close.
My breath hitches as my cheeks flush and I freeze under his gaze.
I look up at him through thick lashes, and his jaw bounces at the end just before he spins us around with the abundant grace he’s always possessed so that the back of his legs are touching the cot.
“Say stop and the lesson ends, no judgment and no explanations required. There is no expectation here.” His voice is so serious that I repeat what he said in my head trying and failing to make sense of it.
“All right.” I choke on the breathy whisper and I’m suddenly only aware of just how close he is.
My nipples pebble as the silk that binds them brushes against his tunic and I recall the hot summer day when we had last been this close. A day I have wished a hundred times to relive so that I might correct the error I made that split our paths and sent him so far from me.
His eyes don’t leave mine as his hands glide to my hips.
He gathers the fabric of my dress until it is high enough to expose my core to a gentle breeze snaking in below the cabin door.
My skin prickles with goosebumps and my breath shudders out in a whisper as I begin to tremble.
My entire body tenses and my hands ball into fists at my sides.
His eyes take in every minute reaction to his touch, studying the effect he has on me.
“Relax,” he says, “This won’t work if you don’t.”