And just like that, it was done. The invisible straps around Selene’s chest loosened, and she took her first deep breath in a long time.
Petrina released a long, slow breath. “And now we wait.”
Selene nodded, but her grip didn’t loosen. She couldn’t stop watching the pot.
Waiting for it to bubble over.
The minutes stretched by like hours as Selene and Petrina stood by, watching the scene unfold.
They’d served the tables of rowdy, brash pirates, ignoring their usual jibes and those probing, appreciative glances along their bodies.
Thorne and his lieutenants sat away from the rest and leaned forward to whisper across the table. Thorne sat at the head, angled slightly away with an ankle across a knee and a fingertip rhythmically tapping the tabletop near his bowl as he listened.
Selene, a pitcher of ale in hand, strode by Petrina, who was also refilling cups. “They’re not eating.”
Petrina followed Selene’s line of sight past the pirates shoveling spoons into their mouths. Whatever Thorne and his lieutenants discussed was more important than filling their bellies. This wasn’t good.
“What do we do?” Selene asked, her heart racing. The venom should have hit by now.
“Keep pouring.” She looked Selene dead in her eyes. “And pray to your gods.”
Selene strolled past the tables, tuning them out—until one name caught her ear. She stopped and poured ale into cups that didn’t need it.
One of the men responded to another, saying, “Phya’s coin keeps the sails up, no question.”
Phya.
The name landed like a dropped coin on stone.
Sheknewthat name.
Months ago in Sedal, Augustus and his parents had terse words over a shipment of stolen ioprese steel. Augustus had lost a third of it in the Kirrane Mountains when it toppled during an oxbeast attack. Cassia and Mettius had sent the remainder, plus one of their ships, to Warian Bay in hopes the ship would fulfill a contract…with a man named Taran Phya.
It had seemed important not to cross the man.
Selene lingered, hoping they’d say more. Why was Phya funding Thorne’s endeavors? Were they partners in this war? Why? Augustus had made Phya sound like a man who didn’t involve himself in pirate politics. He was a money man. He discreetly moved stolen products in and out through Warian Bay.
“I don’t feel so good,” a woman said nearby. Her spoon quivered in her hand.
A spoon hit the tabletop at the other table, and the man’s hand shook as he retrieved it.
Selene caught Petrina’s gaze, then speared Thorne’s because,of course, he’d noticed.
They should have spiked the ale, too.
Thorne stood, and his lieutenants followed suit. Jaw muscles flared, he gripped the pommel of his sword, and gave his crew a quick scan—they all showed signs of sluggish moves. Their previous humor and discussion turned into wondering murmurs.
Thorne’s teeth flashed with menace. “Clever girl.”
She saw it in his eyes then, the true danger he posed. The ways in which he’d keep her alive. She’d seen those ways once before, on Mihail Vidaltos. Tristan Thorne only cared that shebreathed. That he could dangle her out in front like a lure for a much bigger fish: Augustus.
Petrina, however, was another matter altogether. She, he could—and would—kill. After all, she’d only been kept around to keep Selene in line. After this, Petrina was more of a liability.
Thorne unsheathed his cutlass, and a cold chill swept across Selene’s skin.
“Seize the prisoners!” he shouted.
A man’s slow, reaching hand clawed toward her?—
