I can’t help but smile as I slip by and enter the room. “I’ll only be a moment.”
The grey, linen trousers I’d brought from the ship are neatly folded on the end of the bed, where I’d left them earlier. I throw them on, tying them loosely at my hips. Warmth from the fire has made the room much more comfortable so I don’t bother putting a shirt on.
The door shuts with a soft thud, and when I look up, she’s there. Odi leans back against the wood, arms at her sides, eyes fixed on me. I drag the towel through my hair, paying no attention to the rogue water droplets that fling from the ends.
Her stare pins me in place more than any blade ever could. Heat creeps up my skin. Not from the fire, not from the bath—just the way she’s looking at me.
I hold her gaze, slow, deliberate, letting the silence stretch taunt between us. She doesn’t flinch, like she’s daring me to make the first move.
“Thank you for the clothes and such,” she says softly.
I throw the towel onto the table before threading my fingers through the damp strands on my head. “It’s really nothing.”
Odi stays rooted to the spot, still watching my every move. Her hair frames her figure, hanging in damp, dark brownwaves, all the way to her waist. “Why don’t you sing more often, like Soraya does?”
The question catches me off guard and it takes a second to evoke a reply. I shrug lightly.
“She sings all the time,” she continues before I can answer. “Like she couldn’t stop if she tried.”
I fold my arms across my chest, leaning my hip against the edge of the table. The wood groans in protest under my weight. “Somone has to keep the bad boy image on deck when Killian’s not around.”
A soft huff travels across the room. Odi’s gaze never leaves mine.
Every fibre of my being wants to stride across the room and take her in my arms, to forget the world outside these four walls, but should I?
She shifts her weight. “I’m sorry you had to give up your mother’s song.”
The image of the coral encrusted dragon flashes across my mind. I can still feel that empty space inside my chest where mother’s lullaby once rested. It’s hollow and cold. No longer do the words haunt me. Her lullaby in exchange for the key. Part of my heart still aches from the absence, but she would have been thrilled at the thought. The adventure. She’d say there’s no better place for it than the sea.
I shrug softly. “It was needed.”
Her gaze drifts over me—lingering at the edge of my trousers, gliding up my chest, before settling on my face. She reads me in silence, then finally speaks. “Tell me about it . . . your world. Who you were beforeall of this.”
I let out a low laugh. “The pirate wants to know about the prince.”
Her brown eyes spark with mischief, bright with anticipation. “And does the prince want to bare his soul?”
My gaze drifts to the fire steadily crackling in the fireplace. “Son of a king who’s never been satisfied with anything I’ve done. A kingdom of marble halls and sharp rules. My father wanted obedience. A constant show of family unison for all of Nareth to see,” my voice trails out. “I wanted none of it.”
I look to Odi again. Her eyes don’t waver, so I keep talking, the words spilling easier than I mean them to. “He says I’m like her. More my mother than a prince. She loved the world. Adventure. I never understood how my brother and sister could stand endless drills and study when there was so much more to see beyond our city. But when she disappeared, he refused to talk about her, to hope, to evenlookat me. It . . . broke him. So I left, searching for any trace of her. But I think I’ve really been running away.”
If my father saw me now, he wouldn’t yell or rage. He knew why I’d set myself towards empty revenge. The moment I stepped foot back in Nareth, he would look at me, defeated.I tried to tell you, his expression would say.No anger, no gloating, just that tired certainty that’s worse than either. And maybe he’d be right. Maybe I was a fool for chasing ghosts across the sea.
Odi’s eyes have softened like she might understand. She places her hands behind her back, shoulders still leaning against the door. “Are we going to go for the last key?”
I don’t hesitate to answer. “Yes.”
She tips her head gently to the side. “What made you change your mind?
Mother’s laughter—like birdsong—rings in my mind. Her white hair floating about her as she darts through coral banks collecting shells and sea blossoms. The map holds the water elemental symbol. It holds answers about their world—and it holds a promise that no matter how far Odi goes after we part ways, she’ll have what she needs to find the life she’s wanted. One far, far away from the sea.
“The thought of someone else standing next to you when you found it.” The words are more possessive than I have any right to, but her grin tells me she doesn’t mind.
She pushes off the door and saunters across the room, hips swaying with deliberate intent, as if she knows exactly how each step unravels me. She halts just short of touching, her eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, trailing slowly up my chest before locking onto mine. I straighten, shoving my hands into my trouser pockets.
My heart leaps into my throat the moment her fingertips begin to trace the faint, gold, shimmering patterns on my skin. She starts at the ones on my biceps, before moving to the swirls on my chest. Heat coils low in my stomach. With every touch my restraint is unravelling.
Her fingers continue their journey, all the way down to the top of my trousers. I suck in a breath when she drags her nails just under the waistband, causing blood to rush straight to my cock. Just before she travels further I grasp her wrist. “What are youdoing, little doe?”
