Chapter 23 #2
“It wasn’t real. More importantly, it wasn’t your fucking call to make!
” The words exploded from him as he stormed across the room, stopping only inches from me.
His eyes had gone molten amber, his wolf pushing at the surface.
“You would have known that had you done your duty and reported the threat to your alpha. You are a soldier. Unqualified and untrained to negotiate with the enemy. You don’t surrender intelligence.
And you sure as hell don’t hand him our location on a silver platter! ”
I tried to back up, but my spine was already digging into the wall.
I bared my throat on instinct, feeling my pulse hammer against my exposed skin.
Pack law was absolute, and before me stood the judge, jury, and executioner.
His wolf snarled behind those burning eyes, and for the first time in my life, I genuinely feared that my father might kill me.
But I’d make the same choice again.
“Is leatsa mo shaol, Alpha.”
“Your life is mine,” he growled, wrapping a hand around my throat in a way that made it clear that he was envisioning his jaws there.
Fur ghosted up his arm. “Remember that. Had you told me about your interactions, we could have used this. We could have fed him misinformation or led him into a trap. Instead, the four of us now have to deal with a goddamn dragon on top of our mission.”
“I’m sorry, Alpha.” It was all I could think to say. Tears stung my eyes and dribbled down my cheeks as a sign of my shame, and I didn’t dare wipe them away.
The bones in his hand shifted against my barely healed throat.
Fingers elongated, and nails dug into my flesh as his wolf clawed toward the surface.
Bones ground and tendons strained as Dad fought the shift.
If his wolf won the fight, my neck would be the first thing to go, finishing what Sereana’s ceremony started.
The fishmen would be next. And then we’d all die on this ship, because an alpha wolf in a blind rage didn’t stop until there was nothing left standing.
The edges of my vision darkened. Dad had been mad at me plenty of times, but he’d never gone this far before. Panic seized my heart.
“It won’t happen again,” I rasped, struggling for breath.
Swearing, he released me. I gulped in air, fighting a wave of dizziness as my body began healing itself.
That had been close.
My heart still raced, reminding me I wasn’t out of the woods yet.
The alpha continued to seethe, his fangs flashing at me as he took several breaths, and about a million of my rapid heartbeats, before turning and marching back to the door.
He stopped and, with one foot, shoved the mop and bucket at me hard enough that water sloshed over the rim, splashing against the inch already on the floor.
“Clean up this mess.”
Bowing my head in submission made my throat scream in pain, but I did it. “Yes, Alpha.”
I winced as he spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Then I stood there, mop in hand, alone with the lingering stench of vomit, mold, and my own failure.
I hadn’t told the alpha everything.
The bloodstone stared up at me from the open pocket of Dad’s bag, reminding me of what I’d left out.
I wasn’t snooping. The zipper hadn’t survived the snake attack and the mad dash across the water. Half the bag’s contents had scattered during the chaos, and I’d been shoving them back in when the small rock caught my eye.
The dragon’s voice filled my head, unbidden and unwelcome.
Surrender peacefully with the artifact, and I will spare the lives of your people.
He was somewhere on this ocean, closing the distance with every passing hour. I could feel him in my bones the way I felt a storm before it broke. He would follow us to the ends of the earth.
And when he found us, I’d need the bloodstone.
My fingers closed around it before the thought had fully formed. The stone pulsed against my hand, warm and eager, like it had been waiting for me to make this choice.
Footsteps echoed down the passageway.
I righted the alpha’s bag on the storage box, closing it the best I could.
As the door to the sick bay flung open, I palmed the bloodstone, hiding it. My stomach roiled when the scent of cooked fish and potatoes hit me.
Mackiel paused in the doorway, his expression guarded, and a plate of steaming food in each hand. Tension thickened the air as he looked everywhere but at me before commenting on my progress. “Looks a lot better in here.”
“I’m not done yet.” Truth be told, I’d barely made a dent.
It had taken forever just to mop up the water after the giant snake attack, and the fishmen hadn’t provided any soap.
Judging by their stench, I wasn’t sure they even knew what soap was.
“A match is likely the only option for getting this place really clean.”
Mack didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile, and that stung more than it should have.
My boyfriend chuckled at all my jokes, even the stuff that wasn’t funny.
His sense of humor was one of the things I loved most about him, and his laugh had a way of making me feel like I was enough, exactly as I was, no modifications required.
Its absence was deafening.
He’d barely looked at me since learning about my dreams. Mack’s anger was quiet. It lived in the things he didn’t say, the touches he didn’t offer, the space he put between us that was normally nonexistent. And it was so rare that I had no defense against it.
I’d rather he yelled. Yelling, I could handle. This careful, measured distance was killing me.
No matter how angry he was, he wasn’t cruel. He could have let me starve down here, but there were two plates in his hand.
“Please tell me one of those is for me.”
He offered me a plate, and I took it. Then he strode in and sat on a storage box, settling his plate on his lap. I sat beside him, the weight of the bloodstone in my hand feeling like a noose around my neck. I covertly slid it under my thigh and settled both hands under my plate.
The odd texture beneath my fingers drew my attention. The meal hadn’t been served on a plate after all but on a large sea scallop shell, chipped on one edge and cracked on the other. I ran my thumb across the surface, enjoying the contrast of rough and smooth.
“Creative way to serve food.”
Mack glanced at his own shell and nodded. “They don’t believe in silverware. Fingers only.”
“How incredibly civilized.” I poked at the stew, trying to determine whether it was edible. “Are we sure they didn’t poison it?”
“We poured our portions from the same pot the fishmen were eating from.” He scooped a handful into his mouth and chewed. On any other day, he might have made a show of tasting it first, pretending to keel over just to mess with me. Today, he shrugged. “Tastes like fish.”
I hated the flatness of his voice almost as much as the stupid rock digging into my leg.
I broke off a bite of flaky white meat and popped it into my mouth. Not bad. Suddenly ravenous, I shoveled in a bigger bite.
“Careful, there are bones,” Mackiel warned.
My shoulders relaxed fractionally. He might be pissed, but he still cared.
“Why didn’t you tell—”
“I’m sorry I—”
Our words collided and died. We sat in the wreckage of two incomplete sentences, neither willing to finish.
Mack dropped his head, and a sad smile ghosted across his lips. “You first.”
Buying myself time, I tried the potatoes first, then the rice. Both acceptable, though the spices set my nose running.
Sniffling, I forced myself to meet his eyes so he could see my sincerity. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Well, here’s your chance to rectify that.”
I huffed out a breath. “After I stole the bloodstone, the dragon started harassing my dreams. At first, I really did think they were just nightmares.”
He searched my face. “What are they, Zee?”
I shrugged, trying to make the next words sound less horrifying than they were. “He said he can find me in the dream world. Whenever he wants.”
Mack’s eyebrows shot up. Behind his brown eyes, his wolf surged forward, gold flickering through the irises. “What does he do to you in these dreams?”
The growl in his voice told me exactly what he was insinuating.
“Nothing like that,” I said quickly, putting my hand on his arm before his wolf could spiral. “He scared the shit out of me in his dragon form, then promised to kill everyone I know and love.” I took another bite and shrugged. “You know. Typical pissed-off dragon behavior.”
Mack shook his head, in what I assumed was disbelief of our entire situation. I was right there with him.
“The alpha said you told him where we are.”
I opened my mouth to explain the situation and beg him to take my side—if even only in words—but paused.
I had messed everything up. Mack was right to be mad at me, and maybe his anger was for the best. Maybe it would keep him from doing something stupid when I surrendered to the dragon.
“I did,” I said simply.
He watched me, waiting for more, but I focused on finishing my food. Then I handed over the empty shell and stood, stealthily snatching up the bloodstone and slipping it into my thigh sheath with my dagger.
“I should get back to work.”
“You’re not even gonna tell me why you did it?” he asked.
I took the mop in hand. “I did what I thought was best to protect the pack. The alpha has since reminded me that’s not my decision to make.”
Mack stood, his expression dark. “The alpha is wise.”
Then he took our shells and walked out the door.