I nearly snort into my chowder. Is he seriously trying to flirt with me right now? While I'm shoveling food into my face like a starving bear?
Points for boldness, I suppose.
Finn, who's been watching this exchange with a smirk, chimes in. "Aye, lass. It's a rare sight to see a woman enjoy her vittles with such... enthusiasm. Most ladies would be worried about maintaining their figure, but you? You dive right in, like a true seafarer."
I raise an eyebrow. "Well, Finn, when you've been through the kind of shit I have, you learn to appreciate the simple things in life. Like a good meal and not giving a damn what anyone thinks about your table manners."
Finn's eyes widen before he throws his head back and laughs, the sound rich and genuine. "Ha! I like your spirit, lass. You'd fit right in with the crew, I reckon. We could use more straight-shooters like you around here."
I shrug, my grin turning sly. "What can I say? I'm a woman of many talents. Eating like a starved bear just happens to be one of them. But don't get too excited, pirate. I'm spoken for, and my man's the jealous type."
Finn holds up his hands in mock surrender, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aye, I gathered as much. I've heard the way that Viking speaks of you. I may be a pirate, but I'm not stupid enough to poach another man's treasure."
I chuckle at that. "Smart man. Rhyland's not the type to share, and trust me, you don't want to be on his bad side."
Finn nods, his expression turning serious for a moment. "Noted, lass. But just so you know, if you ever need a friend or an ally on this ship, you can count on me. Pirate's honor."
I smile at him, genuinely touched by the offer. "Thanks, Finn. I appreciate that. And who knows? Maybe we can swap stories sometime. I bet you've got some wild tales to tell."
Finn's grin returns, wide and mischievous. "Oh, you have no idea, lass. Stick around, and I'll regale you with adventures that'll make your hair curl."
I laugh, shaking my head. "I'll hold you to that, Finn."
As I turn back to my chowder, I can't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Finn. Sure, he's a pirate, but something about his easy humor and quick wit puts me at ease.
My headache is starting to fade, thanks to the water and food I've managed to shovel into my mouth.
But let's be honest, I still feel like complete and utter shit, like my magical mojo has been sucked dry by a gang of power-hungry leeches.
It's as if that inner wellspring of power has just fucked off to Tahiti, leaving me high and dry with nothing but a metaphorical "wish you were here" postcard. I swear, if that wretched witch has somehow managed to zap away my abilities or curse me with some bullshit power-leeching hex, I'm going to be royally pissed.
It's bad enough that I'm stuck on this floating wooden prison, surrounded by pirates who probably haven't seen a soap bar in decades.
If my superpowers don't decide to make a triumphant comeback soon, we'll all be sitting ducks—and not the cute, fluffy kind. More like the "oh shit, we're screwed" variety.
"Oh, and about that Broody Viking—thatmateof yours," Gideon says casually, pausing at the door. "He doesn't like me."
I roll my eyes, "He doesn't like anyone. Don't take it personally."
"Aye, lass. I'll send Izabelle to ye, to fetch some proper garments."
I nod, returning to the food in front of me. Just as he's about to duck out, "Oh, and Captain..." He stops, turning to face me with a raised eyebrow. "Just a friendly word of advice—keeping that Viking of mine locked up for too long might not be the wisest course of action. Unless, of course, you're eager to discover the consequences firsthand." I warn.
The Captain regards me with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Is that a threat, lass? Or merely a bit of friendly counsel?"
I shrug. "Take it however you like, Captain. But let's just say that my man has a bit of a temper when it comes to being separated from his beloved. And trust me, you don't want to be on the receiving end of that particular brand of Viking fury."
The Captain chuckles, shaking his head. "Ye be a bold one, lass. I'll give ye that. But I'll not be cowed by idle threats, not on me own ship."
"They're not idle threats, Captain. More like... strongly worded suggestions. After all, I wouldn't want you to explain to your crew why their beloved Captain suddenly sprouted a few extra holes in his neck. Might be a bit of a damper on morale, don't you think?"
The Captain's eyes narrow, but I can see a glimmer of respect in his gaze. "Aye, ye make a fair point, lass. I'll take yer 'suggestions' under advisement. But mark my words—if that Viking of yours steps out of line, he'll have more to worry about than a few extra nights in the brig."
I grin, "Duly noted, Captain. But something tells me that you andRhylandmight have more in common than you think. After all, you both have a flair for the dramatic and a penchant for making threats you may or may not be able to back up."
The Captain snorts, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Ye've got a sharp tongue on ye, lass. Best be careful how ye wield it. Not everyone takes kindly to a lass with a wit as quick as her blade."
I wink, my grin turning impish. "Oh, don't worry about me. I've been dealing with men who can't handle a woman with a mind of her own for longer than I care to remember. It's all part of my charm."
