Rink leans down and flicks a dead man’s vest open. She studies the body for a moment and then nods appreciatively.
“Any of these bastards have more than two wounds in ’em before they died, Baby Scorpion?”
“Don’t call me that,” I retort immediately as I look around before offering Rink a shrug.
I don’t know how many times I stabbed, cleaved, or slashed someone before they died. I wasn’t exactly keeping count as I went.
“Doubt they did. I’d expect nothin’ less from anyone worthy of the brothers’ notice,” Rink states as she stands. “And thank you very much, Poppet, but I’ll call you what you are, and this…” she declares, pointing at the dead fae spread around the deck, “this shows me that you’re a Scorpion.”
I sigh and shake my head. Rink grins at me, and while I’m tempted to argue with her, I decide against it. I feel good. Calm. Centered. There’s no point chasing all of that away to try to convince a stranger that the situation isn’t as easy to read as she’s convinced herself it is.
Rink lifts her ax and points it at me, her smile stretching even wider. “That stubbornness confirms it even more,” she teases, and I can’t help but smile at the goofy grin on her face.
Agonized screaming starts up somewhere toward the back of the boat, and I tense, preparing for some kind of attack. Rink tips her head back and closes her eyes, like she’s relishing the sound instead of being alarmed by it. I realize then that no one is going to come running at us, sword raised, ready to take us on. No. That’s the sound of Eacon going to work.
Satisfaction warms me as begging begins to pepper the shrieking. I can’t make out whether the fucker is pleading for Eacon to stop and let him live or to kill him quickly and end whatever torture is being administered. Rink wanders over to the far rail of the ship and makes herself comfortable. She sits down and leans back against the wood rim of the massive boat, soaking in the screams like they’re the most soothing thing she’s ever heard. It makes me think back to the times at the ludere when I’ve done the very same.
I take in the other ships that are moored further down on the pier. I expect crowds to be gathering on their decks as they search for the source of the tortured screams, but there’s not a soul in sight. Whatever Rink did to scare the fae nearby, it worked. I stroll over to where she’s sitting and slide down next to her. Stretching out my legs in front of me, I balance my sword on my thighs and relax. I have a feeling we’ll be here for a while.
“After all these years, I still can’t decide if the best thing in all the realms is incredible sex or the sound of some vile piece of shit breaking. It’s a tossup for me,” Rink confesses as the screaming suddenly cuts off and the faint sound of weeping takes its place. “How ’bout you, Poppet?”
I ponder the question, my thoughts suddenly drifting to that night in the kitchen with Riall. The way he kissed me, what it did to my body all on its own merit. I don’t know if I’ll ever get it out of my head. My heart speeds up at the thought of what it might be like to have more. More than just his tongue in my mouth and the hint of fangs nipping at my lips. What would it be like to have him moving inside of me, kissing and sucking? A sudden image of Curio flashing me his cock makes me fidget, and my thoughts quickly pull him into the mix. How would Curio kiss me? What would he taste like? Would he watch or join if I let him?
Hastily, I shove those musings away and clear my throat. I know it’s the bloodlust speaking, the thrill of the kill demanding even more release to feed the high. I’ve no doubt that’s to blame for being all at once parched and craving things I shouldn’t be. I do my best to ignore the building need and focus on Rink’s question.
“I don’t know that I’ve had either,” I admit bluntly before immediately wishing I could take it back. It’s a little too honest and deep to be discussing with someone I don’t even know. Even if I like her and we did just massacre the fae on this ship together.
Rink tsks and then shakes her head, but the smile on her face and in her eye gleams even brighter. “I’ll check back in a couple months and see if that’s changed,” she playfully taunts, and I can’t help but groan and press my head back against the wood of the rail behind me in exasperation.
“Oh come now, Poppet, ya cannae pretend with me. You’re good, great even, but the Scorpions will make you damn near invincible. They learned from the best and then became even better. We both know it’s not the worst deal you could stumble inta,” Rink defends. “I know those boys, have since Eacs collected each and every one of ’em and set them right. They don’t let anyone in, not anyone, and yet here you are.”
“So, what? I should show my gratitude by letting them own me?” I demand, the angry edge I try to infuse in my tone falling flat and sounding more petulant than indignant. “Should I throw away what I want and need all because the mighty and benevolent Scorpions stepped down from their pedestals long enough to choose me?”
“Partnership isnnae ownership, Poppet. That’s not how mates work. Trust takes time to build. You need to nurture it, give it a chance to take root, and then tend to it thereafter,” she advises kindly yet firmly. “Hell, I’ve loved Eacon since the moment I watched her charge into battle like a ragingphanzumother protecting her cubs. She was fearless as she impaled everything within reach of her sword, while bellowing threats that quickly turned into promises. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, still is, but I knew right then and there that I was lookin’ at the other part of my soul,” Rink confesses, and surprised, I turn to look at her.
“You and Eacon? I thought Eacon and…”
“Yaren?” Rink finishes for me.
“Right,” I admit.
Rink smiles and pushes back some of the loose bloody strands of hair that are sticking to her face. “All I’ll ever need is Eacon, my ax, and death. But Eacs was still finding her way when I met her. We had a couple hundred days before Eacon met Yaren, and it was easy to see that she was the piece that Eacon was missing all along. Yaren helped Eacon in ways that I never could, and I loved Yaren for that. Eacon was our center, and everything was just as it should be, until…”
A tortured scream shatters the sounds of squawking gulls and sloshing waves. I pull my gaze from Rink’s, the pain in her stare suddenly overwhelming.
“After Yaren died, I lost Eacon for a bit. She needed to find her purpose again, and I knew in time she would find her way back to me.”
“You waited for her?” I ask reverently, simultaneously stunned and in awe of that kind of devotion.
“I love her, Poppet. That means I will rip the realms apart if that’s what she needs, destroy anyone who’d dare ta stand against her. But it also means I’ll wait. Wait fer my strong incredible mate ta mourn and grieve and come back ta me. I’ll hold every piece of her shattered heart safe in my arms until she’s ready to put it back together. And do you know what’s so beautiful, so astonishing about it all?” Rink asks as my eyes begin to sting with emotion. “She would do the exact same for me.”
“Without question,” Eacon agrees as she strides out from the direction of the cabins.
Rink shoots up and in four strides meets Eacon halfway across the deck. They stare at one another for a beat, and then Eacon deflates into Rink’s arms. Rink wraps her in a hug so tight and secure it makes my chest ache. I feel like an interloper on a very vulnerable and raw moment, but there’s nowhere for me to slink off to without drawing attention to myself. I stare at the ground, doing everything I can to give them the privacy I’m sure they need in order to break down and be there for one another. Surprisingly though, neither Eacon or Rink dissolve into tears or start to purge what has to be years of pain and loss. They simply lean on each other, silently, like there are no more words to be said or tears to be cried.
“I only got halfway through what that evil fuck did to Yaren before he died,” Eacon whispers, and Rink brushes a soothing hand over her head and down her back.
“Males always think they’re so tough. Ridiculous, if you ask me. They get a mere taste of what they’ve spent their lives doling out, and they crumble faster than a sand house at high tide.”
