Chapter 29
WHO NEEDS MANACLES WHEN YOU HAVE SHEETS
RUNE
Odi lingers behind me while I unlock the door that leads to our room for the night.
She might not be touching me, but my heart responds to her nearness anyway.
The air shifts when she’s close, and my chest answers before my mind does, heart drumming like it knows her place better than I ever could.
As if it will always find her, no matter the distance.
The knob finally gives way and I push the door open, stooping under the frame as I step inside. I hold it wide, gesturing for her to come in before I quietly click it shut.
Off-white lace curtains with a floral backing cover the window on the farthest wall, keeping the room free from prying eyes. A cluster of wildflowers in a dainty, yellow vase grace the top of a square wooden table. And two small wooden chairs sit proudly on either side.
A round rug, woven in deep blues and reds, lies across the floor—soft underfoot, a small stitch of homeliness in the otherwise plain room. No big, comfy chair.
“You were right about the chair,” Odi murmurs as she glances around the space.
It’s much smaller than I’d imagined it to be, but I can’t afford to be picky. It's this or sleeping on the ship.
The wooden floorboards groan as I meander across the room, hands on hips, assessing the four walls. I bounce on the floor a few times to see how stable it is. “Seems soft enough for you to sleep on? I think I’ve given up my bed long enough.”
I flick my gaze to Odi, who is already rolling her eyes. It takes a lot of self control not to laugh at the way her lips slightly pout in protest.
She tucks her hands behind her back and strolls closer. “How about we both agree that neither one of us sleeps on the floor?”
My brow lifts in silent question, then I twist to look at the bed. It’s smaller than the one on The Gilded Hart, which raises concern. I’m not certain I’ll fit next to her without body parts voluntarily finding her.
“Will you be able to keep your hands to yourself?” I ask, a smile tugging the corner of my mouth.
Odi sways towards me, brushing past, a hairs breadth between us before she plops down on the edge of the bed. “Will you?”
“I can’t prom—”
There’s a knock on the door, and I bite back a laugh at the cosmic timing.
My words stall, and Odi’s brow pinches in the middle. “Are you expecting someone?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I take a few steps backwards, my gaze on her before I twist and head for the door.
Pulling it open reveals a young girl with pale green hair, pointed ears and pinkish-coloured skin.
Fae no doubt. She’s holding a brown package in her hands.
“I’ve been told to bring you this?” Her voice is timid, like she’s afraid I’ll bite.
I offer her a genuine small as I reach for the parcel. “Thank you, much appreciated.”
The girl curtsies and scurries away like her life depends on it. With a soft chuckle, I close the door and turn back to the confused looking pirate sitting on the bed.
There’s no need to make this a big deal, I remind myself. I only bought Odi a few necessities—nothing more.
I cross the room and offer them to her. She accepts slowly, confusion flickering across her face.
“What is this?” she asks, her voice edged with wariness.
I shrug. “I thought you should have your own things.”
She places it on the bed, and I can’t help but slow my breathing. Why did it feel so intimate to give her a gift? It’s not even an expensive one. Yet she looks at the items as if she’s never held brand new things before.
“All of this . . . is for me?” she whispers.
I drag a hand up to the back of my neck and rub it awkwardly. “I mean, it’s just some clothing, cosmetics, brush . . . and a jar, of course, for your collection.”
“My collection . . .” she says softly, smoothing the sturdy glass over her thumb.
I’d watched her fuss over the feathers and leaves and scales over and over again. Every night, like a ritual. It makes sense, given that she’s a wood nymph, though it took me longer to realize than I’d like to admit.
Her eyes are still caught on the jar. “This is too much, Rune.”
The desire to reach out, tip her chin up so her gaze meets mine and then beg her to touch me the same way her fingers dance over each gift with such a softness, coils in my chest.
“No need to borrow Soraya or Tavi’s things anymore,” I say, shoving my hands in my trouser pockets. “There’s boots too. They’re probably tucked in the bottom.”
Her brown eyes land on me, and I swear I see moisture gathering in the outer corners where her lashes kiss.
An invisible thread snaps between us, and I want to reach for her.
I want to pull her close and whisper into her hair that she is beautiful.
That not every moment has to be sharp or full of teeth.
Yet, my feet stay firmly planted and my mouth wired shut, because that would be past naked desire, past teasing and sharp-tongued banter.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. “Perhaps I should freshen up.”
I nod, and take a few steps back, trying to act like the novels on the wooden shelf next to the window hold my interest.
Odi shuffles around behind me, tucking the flower from the bakery into the jar.
She’d continued to gather things, her nest of land treasures growing, though they’d proven hard to display on a ship.
At least now they can be protected. I watch her longer than I should, wondering if she’s not just a distraction but the reminder of everything I’ve been missing.
I suck in a quiet breath. She makes me want things I’ve no business wanting.
Things the life I have now could never give me.
She doesn’t look at me when she leaves, shutting the door with a quiet click behind her. I begin to pace back and forth slowly, unsure what to do with myself while I wait for her to return.
The wood stash next to the hearth is piddling—only enough to last a few hours, but I get to work on building a fire, my mind lost to all the things that have happened over the past few weeks.
I pace, running a hand over my face, it's actually nice to have my feet on solid ground for a short while, I almost forgot what it felt like. Even being in this inn feels like a weight has lifted, I don’t need to be captain for a moment, I can simply be me.
Even if it’s just for the night. As soon as I get back to the ship, the duty will return.
Which reminds me, I need to send another inktopus message to Killian. He should have checked in by now.
Soft footsteps in the hall reach my ears, and I turn to the door just as it opens. Odi steps through, graceful, wearing the night gown I’d purchased for her. I hold my breath as she crosses the room to hang the borrowed clothing from Soraya over one of the wooden chairs.
Then she faces me, and I finally release the air trapped in my lungs in a quiet breath.
She’s a vision dressed in sheer white. The shop assistant at the dress store had chosen well.
I’d simply given her the size I needed and requested that it be modest, but not too modest. I didn’t think Odi would appreciate the more stifling style that is popular on the mainland, but she’d probably stab me if I brought her something . . . barely there.
It fits her perfectly. Wide lace straps cling to her sun-kissed shoulders, continuing down to gather at her wrists in a loose structure. The cotton is thin, sheer when it catches the firelight, skimming over her curves before spilling into a soft fall at her thighs.
A row of tiny buttons runs down the front, stopping at her sternum.
They’re delicate pearls, the kind you find in oysters that dwell in the shallow ends of the sea.
None of them are done up, teasing more than they hide.
Every shift of the fabric hints at her figure beneath, leaving far too much for my imagination to ignore.
A smile tugs at Odi’s lips. “Would you like a napkin to wipe up all that drool?”
I take a step towards her and watch the way her breath catches. “Perhaps I’ll use the hem of your shift . . . it would be much softer.”
Pink blooms up her slender throat, spreading across her cheeks in a glowing hue. We stare at each other for a fraction of time, but before I let my body respond to the look on her face, I take a few steps back, reach for the towel on the edge of the bed and head for the door.
I pause with my hand on the brass knob and glance over my shoulder. “You look beautiful, Odi,” I murmur.
The communal washroom is small, like the sleeping quarters, yet it’s tidy enough.
The air is damp and warm from the steam that lingers.
I fill the tub with fresh water drawn from the pump, the slosh echoing against the stone walls.
I ease in, the warmth seeping into my body, soothing my aching muscles.
Salt and grit loosen from my skin, clouding the water as I scrub myself clean with the rough bar of tea tree soap left on the shelf. I duck under once, letting the water drag through my hair before raking it back from my face.
My thoughts travel to the woman who waits in the room across the hall. Knowing that I’ll brush up against her skin when we sleep tonight has me undone. I know we share my room back on the ship and even that is difficult, but I keep to the chair and she has the bed. Tonight, it’s different.
Seeing her in that gown too, has me weak.
By the time I climb out and towel off, the stiffness in my shoulders has eased, the smell of brine gone. The hall is quiet as I step out, the towel around my hips. I linger by the room door for a moment, hesitant to go in.
Only because I know the moment I step inside I’ll want to ravish her, and I shouldn’t. Though standing out here doesn’t change how I feel. Aching. Yearning to touch her lips of silk with mine one more time.