I mean, seriously, the guy's practically swooning. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging so hard it'd create a goddamn breeze. But hey, I can't blame him. My girl's got that effect on people. She's like a walking, talking ray of sunshine, and even a stoic hardass like Erik can't resist her charms.
I can't help but feel a swell of affection for my brother at this moment. I mean, sure, we give each other shit all the time, but at the end of the day, we've got each other's backs. And seeing him take Seraphina under his wing, helping her become the best version of herself? It's enough to make even my heart grow three sizes.
"Alright, alright, enough with the sappy shit," I interject, clapping my hands together. "What do you say we take a break and grab some grub? All this ass-kicking has me working up an appetite."
Seraphina laughs, eyes sparkling. "You're always hungry, Lucian."
"What can I say, baby girl? I'm a growing boy," waggling my eyebrows suggestively. "I'm always hungry for a certain cosmic cupcake."
She rolls her eyes, but I can see the fondness in her expression. "Let's go raid the galley before you start gnawing on the mast or, worse, me."
And with that, we make our way below deck, Erik trailing behind us with a bemused shake of his head. It's moments like these, the simple, everyday moments of camaraderie and laughter, that make all the bullshit we've been through worth it.
It all happened so fucking fast. One minute, we're walking down to the galley, laughing and joking, Seraphina's hand warm in mine. The next, I am waking up on the floor in the dank, dark bowels of the ship, my neck screaming in agony. I slowly get to my feet, rubbing the tender flesh where my spine meets my skull—the sensation of my neck being snapped is always a dead giveaway. The pain and disorientation of waking up from that particular brand of death is something I'll never get used to.
Some fucker snapped my neck like a twig from behind, and now I am all kinds of confused.
I look around frantically, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged animal. "Seraphina!?" my voice raw and desperate, echoing off the damp, wooden walls.
I race up to the main deck, my heart pounding in my chest, only to find Gideon and the entire fucking crew bleeding out and barely clinging to life. Erik is sprawled on the deck, his face ashen and shirt soaked with crimson.
What the actual fuck happened here?
I grab Gideon by the lapels of his coat, hauling him to eye level, my hands shaking with fear and rage. "Where's Seraphina?" I demand, my voice barely recognizable, even to my own ears.
He coughs a spray of blood splattering across my face, then looks at me with a grim expression, his teeth stained red. "They took her, lad."
They? Who the fuck is they? Someone took my girl, my fucking mate?
I see red, my vision tunneling, the icy rage that threatens to consume me. "Who?Whothe fuck took her?"
Gideon shoves my hands away, collapsing back onto the deck as Izabelle frantically tries to stem the flow of blood from his wounds. "Bloodbane, the scurvy dog. He ambushed us when we least expected it, mate. Boarded the ship quiet as a churchmouse an' took us out 'fore we even knew what hit us. The bastard lookin' for Dani, he was."
I feel like I've been sucker-punched, the air rushing out of my lungs in a painful whoosh.
Who the fuck is this Bloodbane asshole?And more importantly, why take Seraphina? What could he possibly want with her?
Oh my fucking god.
I grip my hair, my fingers tangling in the strands, tugging so hard I swear I will rip it out by the roots. The sheer panic that's coursing through my veins right now is enough to make me want to scream, to rage, to tear the whole fucking world apart. I just found her, and now she's taken!
I haven't sealed the bond with her.
I can't find her, can't mentally connect with her.
I'm flying blind, and it's the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced. I'm going to lose my fucking mind.
I can only imagine she didn't go easy. My girl's a fighter through and through. She would have kicked, screamed, and fought with every ounce of strength. But what if...oh god...what if they hurt her? What if they...
I collapse on the deck, my knees slamming into the blood-soaked wood as I hurl, the coppery taste of blood filling my mouth. The sickening thought of them laying a hand on her, of causing her harm, is enough to make me want to tear my own heart out and use it as a fucking piñata.
I can feel the rage building inside me, a white-hot fury threatening to consume me entirely. If they've hurt her, if they've so much as touched a single hair on her head...there will be no force in heaven or hell that can save them from the ass-kicking of a lifetime.
I get up, my legs still a little shaky from the whole "puking my guts out" thing, and stumble over to Erik. "We need to go after them, like, yesterday, dude. Time's a-wastin'!"
Erik nods, his face as stoic as ever, but then he points to the sails. "While I share your urgency, Lucian, repairs come first on the sails, lest we find ourselves stranded here indefinitely."
I look up and see the tattered shreds of the sails, our only fucking way off this floating deathtrap, and with the crew doing their best impression of corpses on the deck, it looks like it's up to me and Erik to play seamstress.
