Chapter 29
Roderick Bryson
Anya had chattered on about the runes the entire way back from the cave.
And on the beach. And back at the fire. He’d never seen her talk so much.
In fact, he’d never seen her so comfortable around him.
The brows that were normally furrowed or high and tight were low and relaxed, without a crease to be seen.
The coveted smile he received after their duel was back on her face.
Now she was in his arms again. For warmth, of course.
It wouldn’t be safe to sleep right beside the fire, he’d said.
She protested at first, insisting on sleeping against the cave wall a healthy foot away.
But as the night wore on, her shivers seemed to draw her closer and closer, even after he draped his shirt over her shoulders.
He didn’t fall asleep until she was completely wrapped in his arms. But it was morning now, and she had him trapped, arms tightly clung around him, cheek resting on his chest. Was trap even the right word? Could one be trapped in bliss?
Trapped. The thought beckoned memories of Anya’s tears on the beach.
What bars had she been talking about? She’d been awake, so it couldn’t have been a nightmare.
Her eyes held lucid fear. He couldn’t imagine someone wild and free like Anya being trapped in any regard.
She was one to do things her own way. If you didn’t like it, well, she’d cast you into the waves. He could attest to that.
He’d considered asking her about it. He would happily punish whoever sought to shackle her.
That was his duty, after all. Though duty seemed to be an ever-growing word nowadays.
Duty to his people. Petorus. The Lupus Star.
The Princess. And now, Anya. Not Anya the Princess.
Just Anya. He’d leapt into the foaming waves to save Anya.
He touched a hand to his lips, then the cheek she had kissed. He swore he could still feel the soft curve of her lips there.
I really did it. I kissed her. I kissed Anya. She kissed me back. That happened.
What now?
Anya hadn’t responded to his declaration. Was it possible the kiss was just in the heat of the moment? Gratitude for her rescuer?
Seabirds cried as sunlight began to slip into the mouth of the cave. A gray gull swooped into the entrance, hopping in a few feet. It cocked its head, and, apparently perturbed at finding no scraps, screamed its displeasure and took off.
Anya wriggled for a moment, then exhaled a long sigh that sent breath tickling across his chest. Perhaps he could wake her gently, slowly, like his mother had done.
The memory shot a pang of guilt through his chest. In truth, he’d hardly thought about his parents since leaving the capital.
Perhaps they thought little of him either.
He gulped.
Unless the Duke had already ousted them from Petorus.
Roderick could’ve cared less what happened to his father.
But his mother—she tried. She wasn’t a perfect parent after the Gathering, but she tried.
It was, in many ways, the end of his childhood.
But it was just the beginning of his father’s obsession with becoming nobility.
Regardless of his father’s actions, Mother didn’t deserve to be on the street, or even an inn.
Roderick wanted her to have a home, just like the one she’d filled with the gentle hum that woke him every morning.
That was the one thing she never changed.
She never rushed in and threw the quilt off or hollered for him to get ready. She always took her time.
Roderick took a slow breath and hummed low in his chest. Little bits of dried sea salt crumbled beneath his fingers as he swept a hand through Anya’s hair.
“Mm…” She tightened her grip around his chest and stretched her bare neck in front of him, sending a wanton ache into his fangs.
He imagined pulling her in for a taste, how her soft skin would give beneath the sharp tips of him, the rhythmic pump of her heart pushing blood through every inch of her.
A simple bite. That was all it would take to be inside her, to finally taste the crimson that powered this fierce wolf of a woman.
Intrusive voices quickly leaked into his mind, bucking the weak toehold of the Rhodias.
You could do it, you know. You’re bigger. Stronger. And she’d be too embarrassed to tell a soul. You could even—
Roderick breathed deeply, catching a hint of bergamot still clinging to Anya’s golden hair. He had to remember what Ornella told him. He’d spoken with her more in depth about his feelings. The voices. The loss of control.
These thoughts, they are not you, Ornella had said. They are unwelcome guests. And just like guests, you may struggle to refuse them at first. But you can. With practice, you can shut the door in their face. The Rhodias is like a friend that helps you keep it shut.
Her words helped him do just that, even without the Rhodias. The thoughts quieted, replaced by the seabirds and crackling fire.
He had to get up. They hadn’t eaten anything yesterday, since breakfast was interrupted by the storm. He couldn’t let Anya go hungry until the Lupus Star arrived.
With a yawn, he laid Anya on the ground, balling up his shirt for her to use as a pillow. It was nice enough for just his trousers anyway.
Roderick made his way to the edge of the water.
The waves gushed over a cluster of rocks, then trickled back out.
Fishing wasn’t an option. He didn’t have anything sharp to his name, or usable threads or vines—but venturing beyond the cluster yielded a whole array of tide pools crawling with green crabs.
Fine dining, no hook required.
Twenty minutes and ten pinches later, Roderick had a fair number of crabs for breakfast and a mackerel that got stuck in the rocks.
He dispatched the crabs beside the fire, eyes wandering to Anya’s sleeping face as he worked.
Even with windswept hair and a tattered dress, she was breathtaking.
And he hadn’t failed to notice her lack of a corset.
While his catch sizzled over the embers on the flattest stone he could find, he built a signal fire further out on the beach.
The ship might have been thrown off course more than he anticipated, but that shouldn’t have stopped Yomira from flying around to search.
Had the wyvern flown into the tempest to find them?
Oh lord, what if she was struck by lightning?
How would he tell Millicent? He scrubbed his face as he walked back to the cave.
“Good morning,” Anya said with a yawn. She wore his unbuttoned shirt over her dress—and it looked better on her than it ever had on him. “What’s all this?” She cocked her head, pupils widening as she stared at the food.
“Breakfast.” Roderick knelt beside the fire and snatched a crab off the hot stone. “Ah! Hoo, hoo! Hot! Hot!” He tossed it between his hands until it cooled, then handed it to Anya. “I hope you like crab. I caught a mackerel too.”
Anya chuckled. “I do, actually. Thank you.” With a sharp claw, she burst the back of the crab and snapped it in half, revealing the steaming cream-colored meat within. She took a bite and moaned. “Oh stars, this is good.”
Roderick smiled as Anya ate like “food” was the only thought in her head.
As soon as she cleaned out the first crab, he promptly handed her another.
He was going to keep her in this peaceful state for a little longer before he expressed his concerns about the Lupus Star.
They should have been here by now. The storm ended last night, and there was no possible way they were half a day off course.
Not with all the sails furled during the storm.
Anya licked her lips clean, then her claws, one by one. Heat flooded Roderick’s cheeks. He wanted to taste them again. And again. And again. His breath caught in his chest. Now is not the time, now is not the time, now is not—
“What time is it? Shouldn’t the ship be close by now?” Anya asked, licking her pinky claw.
He sighed. “I haven’t seen a speck on the horizon all morning.”
“They couldn’t be that far off course.”
“That’s what I thought. And I told Lady Rowan to make sure they kept close to the coast. That’s where you were trying to take us, right?”
“Yes. I felt a passage was near. I mean, a magical storm? Someone must have conjured it. It had to be Aquillans.” Anya brushed her claws on her dress.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. We are not welcome here. We have to consider the possibility that they hauled the Lupus Star in.”
“What happened to Sir Confident?”
“He remembered you had all the sails furled. Which was a good call, by the way. But it also means there’s little chance they got so far off course that we wouldn’t be able to see them.
First I assumed we couldn’t see them because of the storm, and we didn’t have a fire yet.
Then it was dark. Maybe they didn’t see the smoke.
But now it’s clear out, and I haven’t seen so much as a speck on the horizon.
Octavio said the storm was magical. We have to consider the possibility that whoever was behind it intended to capture the ship. ”
“No, no, that’s not possible. You said he would—”
“I said he would protect Lady Rowan with his life. And he will. But he is also a strategist. Sometimes strategy calls for surrender. The alternative is that the ship sunk. I would rather not entertain that.”
Anya hid her face between her knees.
“She’s not dead,” she murmured, voice muffled against her dress. Reality seemed to hit her all at once.
“No, I’m sure she isn’t.” His hand hovered over her back.
Was this a moment to comfort her? Or give her space?
She didn’t seem to take him pulling away very well last night.
Her faint sniff made his decision. He wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her back up and down in slow, soothing strokes.
The shudders of her body radiated through his arm as she cried.
“I wasn’t taught how to handle this.”