I froze. “Show you?”
He smirked like he could hear the fear in my voice. “The Eye. You have it. I want it. Show me where it is.”
Alaric stepped in, shoulders squaring. “She’s not taking you anywhere.”
Veyrion didn’t look at him—he just lowered his head, voice dropping low, dangerously persuasive. “You can take me to it,Sirena… or I can have my men tear the ship apart plank by plank until they find it.”
A slow dread coiled in my gut. His men shifted behind him, their weapons catching the lantern light, their blue-and-gold sigils slick with blood. I didn’t need to look at the crew to know they were outnumbered.
“I—” The word caught in my throat. I hated giving him what he wanted. Hated that my silence would cost more lives than my compliance. “Fine,” I said at last, each syllable tasting like rust.
Veyrion’s grin was all triumph. “That’s my girl.”
Alaric moved to follow as I stepped past, but a wall of Covenant warriors surged between us, weapons low but ready.
“Move,” Alaric growled, fangs flashing.
“Not this time, brother,” he said warmly. “She and I have catching up to do.” Veyrion called over his shoulder. He glanced back just long enough to meet Alaric’s eyes—and wink.
I felt the tension coil tighter behind me as I led him to the captain's quarters, each step like sinking deeper into a trap.
“So,” he drawled, “why lie to me?”
My shoulders stiffened. “About what?”
“Your name.” He let the words stretch.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. It didn’t seem to matter,” I said, keeping my voice even.
“So Nerina? Huh?” Veyrion asked, tone casual—but his eyes were anything but.
He rolled it over once, like he was weighing it. “Pretty.” Then, with a lazy smile, “I’ll call youNeri.”
I stopped short. “Don’t.”
That caught his attention. “Don’t?”
“I don’t like nicknames,” I said.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face—gone as quickly as it came. Amusement took its place.
“Interesting,” he murmured. “Most people don’t correct me.”
“Most people aren’t me.”
His smile widened, sharp at the edges. “Noted.” A beat. Then, deliberately, “Neri.”
I kept walking, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking back. But my pulse betrayed me, thudding faster with every step toward the captain’s quarters—and the Eye.
The door to Alaric’s quarters creaked open under my hand.
The moment I stepped inside, the air changed—thick with the scent of him. Salt. Cedar. The faint trace of rum clinging to wood. My eyes flicked, unbidden, to the bed—rumpled, sheets twisted from the time we’d spent tangled there. My skin flushed at the memory of his hands, his mouth—then the cold snap of his voice the morning after, the words meant to push me away.
It hit like a bruise under my ribs.
Veyrion stepped in behind me, his presence crowding the small space. Evergreen and frost clung to him, undercut by a subtle warmth, like embers buried beneath ice. His attention drifted lazily over the bed, then back to me, lips curving in wicked amusement. “Well, well. The pirate beds the mermaid. How… tragically predictable.”
“Honestly, Neri, you could do better than a man who smells like low tide and regret.” he said smoothly, sauntering in like he owned the place.
