I nod, and take a few steps back, trying to act like the novels on the wooden shelf next to the window hold my interest.
Odi shuffles around behind me, tucking the flower from the bakery into the jar. She’d continued to gather things, her nest of land treasures growing, though they’d proven hard to display on a ship. At least now they can be protected. I watch her longer than I should, wondering if she’s not just a distraction but the reminder of everything I’ve been missing. I suck in a quiet breath. She makes me want things I’ve no business wanting. Things the life I have now could never give me.
She doesn’t look at me when she leaves, shutting the door with a quiet click behind her. I begin to pace back and forth slowly, unsure what to do with myself while I wait for her to return.
The wood stash next to the hearth is piddling—only enough to last a few hours, but I get to work on building a fire, my mind lost to all the things that have happened over the past few weeks. I pace, running a hand over my face, it's actually nice to have my feet on solid ground for a short while, I almost forgot what it felt like. Even being in this inn feels like a weight has lifted, I don’t need to be captain for a moment, I can simply be me. Even if it’s just for the night. As soon as I get back to the ship, the duty will return. Which reminds me, I need to send another inktopus message to Killian. He should have checked in by now.
Soft footsteps in the hall reach my ears, and I turn to the door just as it opens. Odi steps through, graceful, wearing the night gown I’d purchased for her. I hold my breath as she crosses the room to hang the borrowed clothing from Soraya over one of the wooden chairs.
Then she faces me, and I finally release the air trapped in my lungs in a quiet breath. She’s a vision dressed in sheer white. The shop assistant at the dress store had chosen well. I’d simply given her the size I needed and requested that it be modest, but not too modest. I didn’t think Odi would appreciate the more stifling style that is popular on the mainland, but she’d probably stab me if I brought her something . . . barely there.
It fits her perfectly. Wide lace straps cling to her sun-kissed shoulders, continuing down to gather at her wrists in a loose structure. The cottonis thin, sheer when it catches the firelight, skimming over her curves before spilling into a soft fall at her thighs.
A row of tiny buttons runs down the front, stopping at her sternum. They’re delicate pearls, the kind you find in oysters that dwell in the shallow ends of the sea. None of them are done up, teasing more than they hide. Every shift of the fabric hints at her figure beneath, leaving far too much for my imagination to ignore.
A smile tugs at Odi’s lips. “Would you like a napkin to wipe up all that drool?”
I take a step towards her and watch the way her breath catches. “Perhaps I’ll use the hem of your shift . . . it would bemuchsofter.”
Pink blooms up her slender throat, spreading across her cheeks in a glowing hue. We stare at each other for a fraction of time, but before I let my body respond to the look on her face, I take a few steps back, reach for the towel on the edge of the bed and head for the door.
I pause with my hand on the brass knob and glance over my shoulder. “You look beautiful, Odi,” I murmur.
The communal washroom is small, like the sleeping quarters, yet it’s tidy enough. The air is damp and warm from the steam that lingers. I fill the tub with fresh water drawn from the pump, the slosh echoing against the stone walls. I ease in, the warmth seeping into my body, soothing my aching muscles.
Salt and grit loosen from my skin, clouding the water as I scrub myself clean with the rough bar of tea tree soap left onthe shelf. I duck under once, letting the water drag through my hair before raking it back from my face.
My thoughts travel to the woman who waits in the room across the hall. Knowing that I’ll brush up against her skin when we sleep tonight has me undone. I know we share my room back on the ship and even that is difficult, but I keep to the chair and she has the bed. Tonight, it’s different.
Seeing her in that gown too, has me weak.
By the time I climb out and towel off, the stiffness in my shoulders has eased, the smell of brine gone. The hall is quiet as I step out, the towel around my hips. I linger by the room door for a moment, hesitant to go in.
Only because I know the moment I step inside I’ll want to ravish her, and I shouldn’t. Though standing out here doesn’t change how I feel. Aching. Yearning to touch her lips of silk with mine one more time.
With a slow, steadying breath, I knock, careful not to startle Odi. Soft footsteps whisper across the floor, then the door eases open. When her eyes find mine, she draws it wider, and for a moment, it feels as though she’s opened something more than just the door.
The scent of pear and honey drifts out to meet me, warm and tender, folding around my chest like a memory I don’t want to release. I’d seen the oil mixture in the marketplace earlier and had no choice but to buy it for her. It’s the same fragrance Soraya stirs into her soaps—familiar, comforting. Yet on Odi, it is different. It’s hers. The same sweetness I conjure in dreams, whenever my mind dares whisper her name.
She smiles up at me, stepping out of the doorway and into the hall so I can pass by. “I’ll let you dress,” she murmurs.
I flash her a grin. “I mean, I don’t mind the audience.”
An answer plays on her lips, but footsteps interrupt us. I turn to look over my shoulder. Otto walks the hall, all bare chested, grinning from ear to ear, and his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. The towel slung low around his waist does nothing to hide the jagged scar running from his left hip bone diagonally across his chest all the way up to his right collarbone. It’s faded over time, but still pink, still puckered and pulling at his skin in angry memory. It had taken months to heal, months more for the pain to fade. Odi’s eyes widen, her face going wan as she connects the scar with the human boy with the infectious grin and dangling earring.
My heart slams once, hard enough to steal the breath from me, and my gut sinks like lead at the memory of that fateful night three years ago. The sound of blade tearing through flesh, wet and final. Otto’s anguished screams tearing the night apart. It still haunts my dreams.
He keeps the scar hidden most days, as if covering it might make people forget. But no one does. No one ever could. It marks him, not as someone who is broken, but as someone who lived through something that should have ended him.
Odi’s kind enough not to remark, but it’s evident on her face what she’s thinking.
“Cap . . . Odi.” Bear greets us with a toothy smile. “Just gonna freshen up real quick.”
I nod. “The water’s warm, don’t linger too long or you’ll become a prune,” I say,with a wink.
He dips his head, cheeks flushing pink as he squeezes past us to enter the washroom. The door shuts behind him and the quietness returns. I glance down at Odi, who seems lost in her thoughts. “Do you mind if I dress quickly?”
She finally looks up at me. “Oh—of course not,” she fumbles, then steps out of the way.
