Chapter 27 #2
The crew will blame Odelia without question.
Images flash in my mind—Reid’s flushed face, spitting curses at her.
Her calm control, the way she’d ignored him, shamed him, cut him down with words but never reached for any number of the weapons she always had hidden on her body.
She wouldn’t have let that control slip, not when killing him would risk the map.
But few on this ship would follow the same logic. She’ll be held guilty by default.
I sigh. Just another thing to keep an eye on.
The sound of boots thudding on the deck draws near, pulling me from my thoughts. When I see her, my jaw hits the floor, and it takes every ounce of self control to not let blood rush to my cock.
Odi is donned head to toe in black, tight leather. It's matte, like snake skin. A tiny part of me reacts to the image. A viper. Like the one wrapped around her wrist. A reminder of the crew she belongs to.
But the image is hastily replaced by the fact that she is most definitely the most beautiful pirate I have ever laid my eyes on. A long braid hangs over one shoulder, swaying with each step, a dark rope I can’t stop my eyes from following.
I shouldn’t stare, but I do. Curves where they ought to be, the oil lamps attached to the mast throwing a golden glow over her in all the right places. She waltzes up to me, hips swaying like she knows they’re a weapon to be used against a man.
She’s got me. I’d drop to my knees right here and beg her to use me in whatever way she pleases if I weren’t surrounded by folk who wouldn’t care to see their captain devote his soul to the woman they blame for our recent tragedies.
Heat prickles at the back of my neck, and I curse under my breath.
I’ve faced down storms, monsters, blades at my throat, and yet one woman walking towards me in leather near undoes me.
There’s no softness in her stride, but there’s a tease in it, too—like she knows exactly how good she looks and isn’t shy about letting me drown in it.
And vicious seas, I want her all the more for it.
“Ready when you are, Captain,” she coos, running her eyes over my frame.
I straighten and clear my throat. “Let’s get to it then.”
Soraya slips the faintly glinting sea stone from around her neck and loops it over Odi’s. It sits close to her throat like a choker. A black satin strip to complete her look.
A twang tugs my chest at the reminder of her necklace lost to the sea. Should I tell her the truth? That I hadn’t thought she was worthy but couldn’t bring myself to return it to the sea? That it was lost all the same, simply because it confounded me?
Focus on the water.
When Soraya is done, Odi and I move together towards the rail, the darkening sea churning black below.
I swing my legs over the side, the salty wind rushing up to meet me.
I glance to where Odi should be to my right, ready to dive in.
But she lingers a few paces back, her long braid shifting in the breeze, her boots still firm on the deck.
She blinks hard, chin trembling before she forces it still. The mask of certainty cracks, and for the briefest breath, I see the fear bleeding through.
“There’s still time to back out, little doe,” I offer quietly.
She shakes her head, but I catch the way her throat bobs with uncertainty. “I can do this.”
I know she can. We’ve been through worse together, but something tells me she just needs a little boost of confidence.
With a grin stretching across my mouth, I offer her my hand. “Prove it.”
She only hesitates for a beat longer, then her hand is in mine, and she’s hopping over the ship railing to stand next to me. “Ass.”
A low chuckle rattles my chest as I glance over my shoulder to Soraya, Tavi and Elio. “Try not to sink the ship while I’m gone.”
I’ve been leaving her a lot lately, but there’s no doubt in my mind that The Gilded Hart is in good hands. If it came down to it, there’s none I’d trust more to take her over in the case of my absence—or my death.
Salt water slaps the hull, sending up a spray. I turn my attention back to Odi “On three?”
She nods and squeezes my hand gently. “On three.”
“One. Two. Three,” I murmur, then our bodies are diving for the Adamaris sea.
I shift the moment we hit the water. A cloud of bubbles surrounds us as we sink down below the surface.
Once they clear, I point to the sea stone around Odi’s neck.
She watches, wide eyed as the stone pops open, releasing a pale lilac bubble that becomes more see-through the bigger it grows.
It forms around her head in a wavering shape, thin as glass that bends and sways when she moves.
“Pretty impressive, right?”
She weakly nods, but doesn’t answer and that's when I realise she’s still holding her breath. She freezes, eyes growing wide. Her hands fly up to claw at her throat as if the bubble might split, allowing water to rush in. She shakes her head, lips clamped shut, panic pouring off her in waves.
I grab her by the arms, firm but not rough, holding her steady in the dark water. I lean close, forcing her gaze to mine. “It’s alright,” I say, pulling her a fraction closer. “Trust the stone. Breathe.”
She shakes her head again, brown eyes wild with fear. Her chest spasms, fighting the urge. I squeeze her arms tighter, grounding her. “Odi. With me.”
At last, she gasps, sucking in a desperate breath. Instead of drowning, she exhales, shaky and disbelieving as the bubble holds. Her hand drifts up, fingers brushing the edge of the magic sphere, awe softening her panic.
Then her eyes snap back to me. “Rune—” Her voice is in my ears, clear as if we were standing on deck. “I can . . . talk?”
I can’t help the grin that twists across my face. “Aye,” I say. “Welcome to life under the sea.”
Pink flushes her cheeks as the colour comes back to it. It makes my heart swell to see her in my world. Here, where my blood thrums with the richness of my heritage. The place where my heart truly feels at home. And she’s smiling . . . at me.
I offer her my hand once again. “Come on, little doe.”
Odelia threads her fingers through mine.
The touch of her soft skin against the roughness of my hand sends a thrill up my arm.
I grip it firmly, and then we’re flying.
Midnight water rushes past us as we glide down deeper and deeper, towards a towering finger of jutting rock Elio advised as a guide.
The soft lilac glow of Odi’s sea stone is enough to illuminate a very small circumference around us, but it’s not enough to help her see very far. Shapes stir in the murk, fish scattering, drifting, sea weed tugged by the current. Then I see it.
I point ahead. “Look.”
It sits on a column of jagged rock, pale stone where there shouldn’t be any. Square edges too clean to be nature’s work, jutting up like giant, broken teeth.
“It’s definitely a temple of some kind,” Odi murmurs, her eyes wide with interest.
With her hand still firmly in mine, I slow and together we drift down until the full bulk of the structure looms before us.
Barnacle-crusted just like Elio said. Four siren statues that once stood proud lean at odd angles, their carved poses almost too lifelike.
The space is crowded with opportunistic kelp reaching for sunlight, and the wary bodies of fish that watch curiously from within pockets of stone and coral.
Odi releases my hand and swims for the door. I follow, my hand cool from her absence. We hover before the door. It’s massive, cut from the same white stone, sealed tight. No handles, no hinges. Just a smooth slab between us and what lays on the other side.
I place a palm against it and push. Nothing. Not even a budge. So I pull back and then ram my shoulder into it. The pain is minimal but existent. I don’t bother to try again, but instead turn to Odi.
“What did the riddle say again?”
She runs her hands over the door. “Balance the scales, Feather to stone, Heavier still, the guilt-sown bone.”
We circle the structure, trailing our hands along the barnacle-crusted stone, searching for any kind of weakness. I follow behind her, trying to keep my focus trained on finding a way in, and not . . . other things. “And you don’t know what that means?”
“Feather to stone . . . it has to do with weight.” She stops mid swim, twisting around to face me. Her braid takes a few seconds to catch up, floating around her like a coiling snake. “What are the chances there are actual scales here waiting for us?”
I follow her gaze as she sweeps her attention over the overgrown sea bed. There’s no telling how much she can see in the half-light. “I’ll look.”
She nods and we drift lower, sand shifting beneath my tail and her kicks.
I lead us farther down the sloped stone, my attention glued to the ground below me.
Something catches the corner of my eye—flat slabs, half-buried, their edges too perfect to be natural.
I dip to sweep away the silt with my hand.
A plate of stone. Another opposite it, resting lower, like an uneven pair.
I hear the sharp intake of Odi’s breath. “This has to be it.”
I look back at the silhouette of the temple above. “So we balance them?” I murmur. “It seems too easy.”
She drifts closer, eyes narrowing on the plates, her body moving with the water like she belongs here.
I let myself watch her for a moment. Down at the bottom of the ocean—wrapped in the very fears she hasn’t dared name.
She’s steady. Her fingers trace the stone with care, sure and unshaking.
Her breath stays even, the bubble around her face rippling only when the current stirs it.
She’s at one with the ocean, like the animal in her is one with the land.
It’s a breathtaking sight.
Brown eyes search me out, bright with challenge. “You think we just press them?”
I drift over the taller plate and coil my tail around, applying as much pressure as I can. The stone sinks slightly, but it’s more reluctant to move than I expect.