“I’m coming,” she cries out, fingers digging into the skin on my back.
Her sweet moans bounce off the walls, so I reach up to cover her mouth with my hand. “Quiet, little doe. These walls are paper thin.”
I fix my eyes on her, sinking into her over and over, while she whimpers under my palm. I want her undone, until every bone in her body is limp with ecstasy. But the moment I feel her clenching around my length, I’m done. My stomach muscles constrict, and I release a low groan as I empty into her in waves. The world spins as I black out, hot pleasure spearing through me with every thrust. She moans, bucking her hips as she milks my length, draining me of every last drop.
With one last thrust, I collapse beside her, spent and breathless.
THIS IS IT, NISSE
30
ODELIA
We lay tangled together in the dark, a lone candle sending light dancing over our skin. The entirety of my body hums, drifting in a way I didn’t know was possible. Is this what it’s meant to feel like, after? Every thought wrung out, every ache replaced with sweeter ones, like the one that pulses between my legs. Impossibly, I want more. I’d hardly be able to move if I tried, but there’s an undercurrent between us, keeping me pressed flush to his side, my leg draped over his, claiming him even when I’ve not an ounce of strength left.
He’s on his back, one arm around me, the other tucked behind his head. His breaths are slow, easy in a way I’m not sure I’ve seen before. When he handed me my gifts—the clothes, the jar—I thought I might burst, overwhelmed by the simple kindness. Somehow, he’d pushed it farther, studying me, learning me, filling me until there was nothing else.
Only him.
“How come your arm band stays when you shift?”
His sleepy rumble goes right through my bones. “What?”
“I’ve been wondering,” I say, letting my fingers trail over his skin. “Your shirt disappears even when you half shift, but the band stays no matter what.”
He turns to watch me, rustling the soft pillow behind his head. “It’s a royal thing. Like a land king’s crown.”
I trace a gentle finger over the band, then continue to the shimmering marks on his arms. “And these? Elio doesn’t have them. Is it a Rune thing, or are royals just lucky?”
“They’re from my mother.”
His voice trails off in a way that makes my heart ache, so I hum, moving my touch to the scars that mar his chest. “How about this one? Not so lucky, I assume?” His lower stomach tenses as I trail over a long, thin line near his hip bone and I grin as he catches my hand to hold it still.
“That was a Reaver. He didn’t like that he’d been caught.”
“Ah. I’m sure he saw the error of his ways.”
His grin is bright even in the darkness. “He saw the bottom of the sea.”
I laugh softly, moving higher. “What about this one?” It’s round, and slightly puckered. To my endless delight, he shivers as I trail around it in circles.
“Bladefish. I should have known it was there, but they’re fast. Maybe the fastest creature in the water. I’d accidentally come between her and her nest. I was certainly lucky Elio was with me for that one.”
“He and Tavi seem more like family than crew mates,” I say, a strange ache seeding itself in my chest.
“They are. Themand Otto.”
“What about Otto’s scar?” I’m not sure why I go still, waiting for the answer. It feels like a secret, like something Otto doesn’t usually want others to see. But that sort of wound—how had he survived it?
Rune hesitates in a way that has the warmth that’s settled in me turning stone cold. My hands still, sudden anticipation sharpening my focus into a blade. Rune clears his throat, and keeps his eyes glued to the ceiling as he finally answers.
“That one was Ivor.”
The words hang between us like a noose.
“It was early on,” he continues, as if he can’t feel the way my heart has stuttered into overdrive, sending roaring blood into my ears. “I’d just gotten my ship, and I was a fucking idiot. A few years of training with my father’s guard meant I thought I would hunt down and eliminate the most feared ship on the Adamaris Sea. It took us weeks to track down theSea Bane. She was moored, so we passed on by. I sent scouts below to track her, figuring I’d always know where she was so long as they could stay in contact. But they found us that night.”
Part of me wants to beg him to stop. I don’t want to hear it—I already know. How many ships had we emptied for trying to board us? How many lives had we taken, before they could take ours? But I don’t remember this. I don’t understand how any of them made it out alive.
