Chapter 18
Arina
Iam so fucked. My hands are still shaking from having to kill that fucking beast. It had come out of nowhere, and my instincts just kicked in before the thing even had a chance to speak. All I had known was that I was in danger, and I had my dagger.
Knife throwing is not my strongest skill, but I hadn't been able to come up with any other ideas.
Trolls? Fucking troll pirates? What alternate universe is this? They are hauntingly beautiful but equally gruesome. Their skin is a shade of blue I've never seen before, and I want to touch it, feel it beneath the pads of my fingers.
When the one had attacked me down below, I didn't think before gutting it. A monster was flying at me. It had to die. There was no time to marvel at the color of its skin.
“Yer testing my patience, girl!” the pirate captain snaps. What was her name? Trisay? It seems the creature knows Raiden well enough.
I take a deep breath and inspect my surroundings. Normally, I live in a constant state of vigilance, the sixth sense I learned as a child thanks to my mother's substance abuse and unpredictable nature. It has always felt like a superpower and a burden rolled in one.
I pray it won't fail me now.
The pressure coming from Trisay and the other trolls as they practically drool over their entertainment is unnerving, but I line up my first shot. A large barrel with a picture of apples on the label sits just behind Trisay. I've learned enough to know that food is crucial to surviving.
I grip the hilt of the knife, pulling it back behind my head, and releasing what feels like a moment too soon. The knife lodges in the wood of the ship, just a hair above the barrel.
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath. I steal a glance at Raiden whose disappointment is written clearly on his face, and I curse myself for caring what the bastard thinks of my skills.
The trolls around me laugh and jump with glee, using their long, muscular arms to leverage themselves into the air. Monsters, the lot of them.
“Ssseemsss we might be deleverin’ ye to yer death after all,” Trisay laughs alongside her crew.
I do my best to hide any hint of distress, settling quickly on my next target. Making this shot will be imperative to my survival in this unfamiliar world.
With much less bravado than before, I casually chuck the second knife.
“Fucking hells!” Raiden's voice rings out, shocking everyone on board.
I raise my chin in defiance and pride, and I can't help but flash a grin in his direction as I watch him stare in awe at the dagger sticking from his right shoulder.
I stifle the cackle that tries to crawl its way up my throat at the sick sense of satisfaction I feel knowing I caused him even just a little discomfort.
“YOU WRETCH!” Oh. Trisay is pissed.
I hadn't considered what kind of reaction the trolls might have. All I had thought about was being in a strange place without a guide. I need him to survive.
The troll captain is upon me before I could blink, hammering me hard across the face with her long, razor-sharp claws.
I spit the blood pooling in my mouth from the blow at the creature’s feet.
“I'm merely trying to survive, Captain. Surely you understand my reasoning,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Ye've taken me bounty frem me, girl. I weren't be forgettin’ this ssslight fer many moonsss ta come,” the troll captain says, but she slinks away, accepting the game for what it is. “Go on, throw yer last knife.”
Staying on the ship with the trolls is a surefire death sentence, so my last target is an easy decision.
I carefully walk to the railing of the ship, lean over, and throw my knife as hard as I can into the tiny boat below.
I don't know what I was expecting Trisay's reaction to be, but it wasn't the laughter spewing from her now. In fact, the entire band of trolls is howling with laughter. An odd reaction to losing their prisoners.
I look to Raiden who only shakes his head slightly, imploring me not to react.
“Ye've done the dirty work fer me, girl. The god of oceans is unforgivin’ and will ssservve a better death than I could ‘ave dreamed fer this ssscoundrel. Ye won't survive the night,” Trisay says, finally able to speak through gasped breaths.
Another loud chorus of laughter from the rest of the trolls makes my face heat with fury and embarrassment.
I'm used to being underestimated, but the creature's words make me feel more foolish than misunderstood.
I thought I was being clever and resourceful, but my gut twists in a knot at the notion of being swallowed up by the deep, dark sea.
“In the spirit of verkampment, I'll give ya that barrel of apples, too.” Trisay cackles as she gestures for one of her minions to take the barrel to the tender.
“Now, get the fuck off my ship!”
ON THE TINY boat, the ocean is amplified. Each wave jostles my whole body, and it takes me a moment to get used to the motion.
I've never seen so much water in my life. Spoikos is landlocked, and the water sources nearby are pathetic streams, rivers, or lakes, but nothing of this magnitude.
Raiden is sulking, and I think we may go however long we're trapped together on this dinghy in total silence. That is, until he finally cracks, “You fucking stabbed me.”
I shrug. “Accidents happen.”
It takes every effort to keep the giggle I'm withholding from erupting out of my mouth.
“You think that's funny?”
I don't have a chance to respond because he is using ridiculous strength to lift me by the throat. He easily dangles me above the ominous black water, as if he isn't injured at all.
I think he's playing at first, but after a breath too long, panic sets in, and I thrash as hard as I can against him.
“Put me down, you fucking monster!” I scream, kicking my feet and pulling at his arms. If I'm going down, he is coming with me.
“Oh, you don't want to go for a swim? I thought maybe you had a death wish,” he says, but I'm too terrified to respond, choosing instead to shake my head vigorously as the tears stream down my cheeks.
“Fuck!” he yells and then pulls me back into the boat, my feet still dangling in the air. My body is flush against his as he adjusts his hold, wrapping both arms around my waist. I attempt to use my hands to push off his shoulder, but he's too strong.
Raiden searches my eyes, as if by looking into them he might hypnotize me to his will. Or make me forget his little outburst. Maybe he can.
I try to look away, but feel compelled to hold his gaze instead.
“I'm sorry.” He sets me down, and I scurry across the little boat to get out of his reach. “It's just I lose my head when it comes to you. Do you know what I would have done if she had killed you?” His hands comb through his hair.
Something in his voice is desperate, and I swear my heart flips in my chest at his confession.
“I'm sorry,” I whisper.
“No. Don't do that. Don't apologize. It was my fault. I won't let anything bad happen to you, Arina. You have to trust me,” he says sternly.
I'm not sure I am ready to put my faith in him, so I change the subject. “How does your shoulder feel?”
“It's fine,” he tells me, touching his left hand to the spot where the blade had been sticking out and swinging his arm in a circle. I don't remember seeing him remove the dagger.
“I can heal it for you, if you want,” I offer, half hoping he doesn't accept. I don't know if I can be that close to him again.
“I said, it's fine,” he snaps.
I raise my eyebrows but don't press on the matter. It's understandable that he's shaken up. His crew was just slaughtered. Hells, we were almost slaughtered, as well. We all react to stress in different ways, and I can't fault him for losing control.
Instead, I ask, “Where are we going?”
“We'll be in Clestraya soon. It's usually a two- or three-day venture,” he says.
“You mean we're stuck on this little boat together for two entire days?” I blanch.
He takes a seat on one end of the little tender boat and beckons for me to sit on the bench across from him.
“Maybe even three,” he reminds me.
When I sit down, my mind flashes with the memory of the troll who had found me on the ship, and I recall the fact that I am covered in its sticky, purple blood.
“I should probably change my clothes,” I say.
I wonder absently if I will be able to change without tipping over the side of the boat.
He hands me my bag, and those golden eyes dance with mischief.
I have to stand to snatch the bag from him, and I'm careful not to make any unbalanced, sudden movements that might land me in deep shit.
When I sit back down, I rummage for each item I need. I gently strip the clothes I've been wearing, for what seems like days, off my sticky, sweat-soaked body.
Raiden clears his throat. “If you hand me your soiled clothes, I'll wash them as best I can for now.”
The offer has my heart seizing. No one has ever really taken care of me before. This male has paid more careful attention to my basic needs than anyone in my life. It's almost endearing, but I shake off the feeling.
I shimmy out of my leathers, handing him the dirties once I'm fully dressed in order to avoid a potentially awkward encounter.
“Thank you,” I say, watching him scrub as much of the troll blood as he can out of my clothes.
“It's no problem at all, Arina.” The sound of my name on his lips has me covered in goosebumps, which, combined with the frigid air of the ocean, makes me shiver.
“Still, I want you to know I appreciate it,” I tell him, hoping not to give any hints to the storm swirling in my stomach.
He just looks up and gives me the most devastating smile. Shit. I should not be having these feelings. Especially not for him. Damn this desire to be wanted, chosen, cared for.
Bone-tired exhaustion pulls at my body, and I set to work on making my corner of the boat as comfortable as possible so that I can lay down.
When I finally settle in, I look up at the sky, and my breath leaves me in a rush.
“What is it? Are you alright?” Raiden asks, moving to my side.