“Fuck off,” I spit, and turn around again.
I swore to kill him the next chance I had. Promised it to myself, swore it up and down. But… damn it. Damn it all!
Zayan, Vinicola, and I are nothing more than a trio of deserters with barely a scrap to our names. This schooner’s a wreck—might as well fall apart before it even sees a port. If it doesn’t break down first, we won’t survive a fight at sea. Not without firearms, and not a shot in hell of boarding anyone. If Whisperwind Sea’s poachers and rogues spot us, they’ll gut us like fish under a clear sky.
Zayan needs to live. For now. I need all the hands I can get, even his.
“Look at you,” Zayan’s voice cuts through the salt air. “Acting like you’re above all this. We’re in the same situation, you know? Should make the most of it.”
My cheeks flare up like someone lit a fuse. Gunpowder hot. And he’s the spark. The fool that I am, I turn around again.
“No! No. You and me? We’re not in anything together. I made that clear once, and somehow, you still didn’t get it. Maybe now you will. Gods, I hope you do, because I am sosickof you, Cagney! I want nothing to do with you!”
He steps closer, close enough to feel his presence, but not enough to touch. Just enough to gnaw at my restraint. His eyes flicker to the jungle, then settle back on me with a slowness that’s deliberate. The bastard’s shirt sticks to his skin, dripping water like he’s just crawled out of the sea itself. Then—of course—he shrugs it off, leaving himself bare-chested.
He’s doing it on purpose. Fucking hell.
My stomach twists, warmth pooling deep inside. Damn it. It’s him. It’s always him.
“You nearly got yourself killed,” he says, eyes locking onto mine. “And that poor fool you dragged into this. You don’t want me here? Fine. But that’s your ego talking, and we both know it. We have unfinished business. Things we need to sort out.”
My jaw clenches. “We have nothing to sort out.Nothing.”
His smirk. That damn smirk. I should’ve never let him set foot on Medusa’s Gaze all those months ago. I should’ve sounded the alarm, started a war right then instead of making that deal with him, an enemy. Now it’s come back to bite me. And not in a way I like. No, this bite’s got venom in it. The kind that lingers, festers. Zayan Cagney is venom—persistent, relentless, and far too deep in my veins. I need to bleed him out.
He just hums, unbothered, then casually sits on the sand like he’s got all the time in the world. Like I’m not standing here ready to throttle him.
The fire inside me roars to life, my fists curling tight. I want to kick sand right into his face, wipe that smug grin off him for good. But no. I need my head clear. He’s just noise. Just noise.
Think, Gypsy. What’s next? What do you need?
First, I need food. Then I need wood to fix the damn ship. Sleep, maybe, if I get that far.
I know where I can find two out of three.
The jungle.
Without a word, I turn on my heel and head toward the treeline. The jungle looms ahead, thick and wild, untouched by any blade or hand. It’s as untamed as they come, a living thing with a mind of its own.
The air is heavy, humid, already sticking to my skin before I even step foot inside. The plants seem alive, stretching out like they want to wrap me up, pull me under. Every leaf, every branch, feels like it’s watching, waiting. The scent of rot and damp earth fills my lungs, and I can hear the incessant buzzing of creatures hidden in the undergrowth.
I haven’t even stepped in, and already, I hate it.
Deep breaths, Gypsy. You’ve got this.
I tap my foot, running my hands along my arms, gnawing on my cheek. I can still feel him—Zayan—behind me, lingering like an itch. Waiting for me to falter. He probably thinks I won’t go through with it. He knows. Knows the jungle has its grip on me. There’s a reason we never fucked in one.
Out of all the things that rattle me, jungles are number one. A normal captain would head in, gather supplies—wood, food, stones, whatever. We need it all. I should be doing that. But just looking at the shadows beneath those trees makes my gut twist. Nope. Can’t do it. Won’t do it.
I turn back to the beach, spotting Zayan, lounging like he’s living his life, eyes on the sea and the ship, not a care in the world.
Damn him.
He catches my gaze. Doesn’t have to say a damn word, but the smirk tugging at his lips says enough. He’s waiting for me to admit it—the jungle’s already gotten to me.
I square my shoulders, ignoring the heaviness in my chest, and force my legs to move toward the jungle again. The closer I get, the more the dense shadows seem to close in. The noise of the beach fades, replaced by the thick rustle of leaves.
One step in, then another. I can still hear the ocean behind me, but it’s muffled, distant. I keep my head high, even as my nerves light up.
