I can’t help the way the corner of my mouth ticks up. “In your dreams.”
He leans over my shoulder, his breath spiriting over my neck. “You have no idea.”
Hemoves out of the way before my elbow connects, then suddenly he’s standing, and I’ve no choice but to follow or risk losing the skin of my wrist. “Hey! A little warning!” The chill nips at us as we move away from the heat of the fire and past the navigation tent, where Elio and Tavi stand outside. Rune instructs them to set a watch as we pass, but doesn’t stop, instead hauling me to the string of tents farther down the shore. The sand shifts awkwardly under my feet as I try to match his gargantuan stride. “Where are we going?”
“Some were starting to notice your sad doe eyes. Figured you were attached to the whole kick ass pirate image and would rather find some privacy.”
I huff a laugh, like I don’t know what he’s talking about. “So you admit I could kick your ass?”
He doesn’t stop until we’re at the farthest tent, but when he turns, the starlight glitters in his eyes. “Remains to be seen.”
I furrow my brow as he gestures for me to go inside. “Aren’t you going to unchain us?”
“Whyever would I do that?”
“So you can go to your own tent?”
“Oh, Odi”—he pulls us inside, and between the two of us there’s hardly space for breathing—“does your optimism know no bounds?”
“Does your arrogance?” He truly means for us to share a one-man tent. Even with the entirety of the floor covered in blankets we’ll still be hard pressed to arrange in a way that avoids our bodies touching. There isn’t even space for a chair, just the flickering lantern tucked in one corner. The slow heatthat’s been curling around me flares hot, and suddenly the night isn’t chill enough to temper it.
Hetsks. “Sharp tongued thing. Tell me, do you prefer the right side, or the left?”
The irritation boils over, and I hiss in an effort to keep my voice low. “I prefer if you told me exactly what you’re expecting by chaining us together. In front of the crew, sure, pretend if you must, but you know I could escape the moment you’re asleep. You’ve even got your weapons with you, as if I won’t take them and slit your throat before I go.”
“I’m rather fond of your little knife habit, actually. I find it refreshing.”
Words nearly strangle me trying to shove their way from my throat. “Rune!”
“Can we at leastsit,” he begs, forced to hunch over by the tent’s size. “My neck muscles are seizing.”
I huff and drop to my knees, and he sucks air through his teeth as the manacles jerk tight between us.Good.
But, when I look up at him to smirk, his parted lips and the sudden flush of his cheeks has my nipples pebbling tight under the wrap on my chest. I can’t tear my eyes from his, not even to admire the light that kisses his neck and sharpens the angles of his face. He stands before me in the almost-dark, and I can see the beautiful hunter beneath, imagine the sharpening of his nails and teeth, feel the power that rivals that of the waves but, on my knees before him, I know without a doubt he would crumble for me.
“Are you going to sit?” I murmur, eyes wide, uncertain what will happen when I shatter the tension. He blinks, thendrops down, sprawling over the entirety of the blankets and forcing me to lay or be pulled off balance. Our legs and shoulders press together, though I know we’re both touching the edges of the tent on either side.
He sighs obnoxiously, though I’m certain he’s struggling just as much as I am to take in enough air. “Must you sleep on top of me?”
“You”—I kick at his sprawled leg, immediately annoyed again—“are the one on top ofme.”
“I noticed you haven’t tried too hard to get away.”
I turn away from him, yanking our arms so I can lay on my side. The chain is cool through my shirt and the back of his hand is warm on my waist, the length of the manacles forcing the angle. I know he’ll be able to feel the rise and fall of my racing chest, but it’s better than encouraging the conversation any further. Every part of me feels wound tight with suffocating, raw, insistent,feeling. It assaults me from every side—his heat beside me, flashes of my mother, those rare moments when exhaustion and homesickness wasn’t enough to temper the spark inside her. Images of my father and the kind of warmth I used to believe could be enough. The heartrending smile Rune offers his crew. Their easy laughter. The way they share their grief. Since my mother died, I’ve not wanted anything more than to be alone—safe.
Being alone is to be safe.
Night insects chitter, audible now over the cheer of the crew. There’s no way I’ll sleep. My blood sings as if a blade were in my hand, slick with the blood of victory.
When he speaks, the teasing lilt is gone, leaving his voice soft. “I need you with me,” he says, and there’s no way he can know the misplaced, aching warmth that blooms impossibly more in my chest as he goes on. “If there’s a threat, it’s likely aimed at you. I can’t allow the riddles to be so conveniently disappeared.” He hesitates for a breath. “And I’m not in the habit of leaving treasure unguarded.”
Idream I’m dropped into the ocean, frigid cold enveloping me before the punch of a wave steals my breath and wakes me with a gasp. Rune’s arms are locked around my back, hoisting me to his chest and pulling me out of the tent and into the bitter night. Breath clouds between us, but I can’t tell if it’s mine or his.
Something isscreaming.
Canvas rips farther down and a grating animal sound tears through the air, drowning out the shouts of the regrouping crew. Rune draws his sword, but the creature is down before we’re there. Two men and a woman are coated with green splatters, their faces twisted with varying levels of disgust. The monster leaks a similar colour, bleeding from several minor cuts and a vital wound to the bulbous neck pouch that flaps open. Whatever it is, it looks almost amphibious, with thick, meaty legs, greyish, slick skin and several eyes of differing sizes. Itsface is flat—the bottom half is mostly a hinged mouth—and the corded muscles of its thin, disproportionately long arms trail down to the needles of webbed claws.
Rune’s jaw works as he studies the beast. “Who was on watch?”
