Chapter thirty-six
Chosen
Rose
Among the old Norse, a man’s fylgja walked before him as both warning and guardian.
Some were wolves, some were birds, and some—when fate was most peculiar—were shaped like the sea itself.
— FromThe Mysterious Deep: A Comprehensive Understanding
Idrank in the smell of my husband wrapped around me. He smelled of sea salt spray and whiskey. We’d stayed up far into the night, eager to be everything and anything to each other. Theclock was a timer that wouldn’t release its hold on our throats, no matter how we tried to pry those fingers away.
Four days marked our reddened skin, and as the sun filtered into our cabin, so did the fifth day. The Wraith held up just as Bash said it would. At a vicious pace of seven knots, she hadn’t buckled an inch.
I still didn’t know what to expect from today since Morwenna might as well have been a ghost on this ship. She only left her room to get food and always returned to eat it without a word to anyone, much to Dilly’s dismay.
Even Blackbeard was much put out about the situation. He often stood outside Billy’s old cabin, disappearing only when Morwenna came out. Almost as if he were guarding her. There was something there that meant something. It was Bash who pointed out that their eyes shared that eerie brightness. The only difference was that Blackbeard’s eyes were green rather than blue.
Dilly was losing her mind looking for answers, but by now she’d read Edmond’s journal five times over. There was nothing left to learn from the pages that remained within it.
The time for research was done. Instead, we’d learn through trial and error. There were worse fates…probably.
My mouth was dry with sleep, and with no signs of Bash waking, I braved the chilly air in search of water. Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, I made for the liquor cabinet where water usually lived.
Sure enough, a tall glass remained, but as I looked out the back window and witnessed the pink skies of a sunrise that I both dreaded and craved. I wanted this mark off my skin and to know we were all safe, but I was terrified of the cost.
If it were only me paying it, then I could live with that, but bargains rarely adhered to the expectations mortals held. Then there was also the fact that if I was successful, I would behanding over something powerful to a man who would withhold his mother’s freedom. If I ever wondered if Edmonds was a decent man, I now had my answer.
Billy would have said there was more than one way to gut a fish, but with this mark on my skin, options were limited. I stared at the serpent eating its own tail, glittering in the dim cabin light illuminated by a waking sky. In many ways, I was that serpent. Destroying myself a little bit more with each plot and scheme I concocted.
Cool metal brushed against my neck, swiping the hair there to the side. Like muscle memory, I shivered at his touch. So lost in thought that I never heard him get out of bed. I stepped back into Bash’s warmth and was rewarded with the press of his lips to my bare shoulder.
I closed my eyes and drank in the moment.
“You are worrying,” he said, voice gravelly from sleep.
His hand wandered down my arm, brushing the blanket away while he traced the curve of his hook across my collarbone. It sent a bolt of lightning through me, and soon I was forgetting that I had anything to worry about at all.
“I thought I’d share some of the burden with you and do my share of worrying,” I whispered, breathy.
His lips traveled across my shoulder and up my neck, and I was fraying at the edges, threatening to come undone.
“Will worrying change anything?” he murmured.
I lifted my hand to press against the back of his head, holding him against me.
“Some say that worrying is just being prepared for any scenario,” I answered.
He chuckled, and I was happy to hear it. It felt like a privilege that was reserved only for my ears these days. He was grappling with the weight of his past while remaining constantly aware ofthe danger I’d put us in. We both knew that I would do it again and again to have him here with me.
His hand and hook drifted lower down my body, and I let the blanket fall to the ground, removing every visible barrier between us. He murmured an approval as he lowered his body to kneel before me. His hand on my hip and the curve of his hook dipped into my hips and forced me to spin to face him.
Seeing my captain on his knees, naked, with every hard edge of him on full display, was a sight that I would spend my life trying to put into words. For now, though, my lips simply parted as I pushed out a long breath of anticipation.
My body sang for him without him doing anything. The anticipation of what I knew would be as potent as any aphrodisiac. He ran his hook between my legs, and I whimpered as I fought to keep my eyes open. The cool metal of it always seemed to intensify these feelings. Part of me knew it was because of the confidence with which he wielded it. He no longer ran from this new side of him.
“Bash,” I whispered, begging.
