I spend the better part of the day practicing with my daggers. It’s a comforting pastime I’ve been encouraged to pursue for years. I will never claim to be the most beautiful of the Fea Dien, and though I surpassed both Bront and Leanna in the ring long ago, there are other Drakai with proficiencies I can’t even fathom. But when it comes to blades, there isn’t a soul in all of La’tari that can come close to besting me. At least, none that I’ve met.
Hours pass, and finally our departure from port is marked by muffled shouts overhead. The ship sways, rolling upon the waves of the open sea. I glance at the table, my stomach growling at the sight of cured meats and what remains of the thick wedge of cheese I enjoyed for lunch. I find myselfpacing the small cabin as I wait, picking at the leftover morsels until the late hour settles a weight upon my eyes.
Finally, I succumb to my body’s bid for sleep. Turning down the wick of the lantern by my cot and hanging my gown in the wardrobe, I settle in for the night. Despite what I expect, sleep does not come easily, my mind grasping at every possible reason he hasn’t come.
Perhaps business kept him ashore. Maybe he’s been killed. Drakai aren’t known for their exceptionally long lives.
And I prefer these options to the nagging voice that says he is as bored in my company as I am without his.
Eventually the sway of the ship lulls me to sleep. The torment from a maddening array of worry, self-pity, and loathing gives way to the more familiar bloodbath that dries my throat and leaves a gaping hole in my chest every night.
She is so lovely, the woman reaching for me. A thick, dark braid is draped across her shoulder, dragging along the floor as she pulls herself toward me. A dark trail of blood follows her, staining the wooden floors a sickening shade of red.
“Vari,” she whispers.
Bile surges in my stomach, burning the soft tissue of my throat as the woman collapses onto the floor at my feet. Her eyes are fixed on me, and I watch them dull as her breath leaves her.
“Shivaria.”
“Wake up.”
Some incoherent, distant part of me thrills at the rasp of my blades sliding against one other as I pull them from under my pillow. I draw a ragged breath, my lungs refusing to fully expand, my chest roiling with the demon I can never fully expel.
“Vari stop!” The voice is a harsh whisper in my ear, and I will my eyes to focus in the low light. I struggle beneath an unfamiliar weight, mydemands for release muffled by a hand over my mouth, my arms pinned above my head.
Dark eyes peer down at me through a tangle of white hair, flicking from my face to the blades I fist in a death grip.
Just a dream. I’m safe.
I relax my grip and Vakesh looses a sigh, shoulders tense as he slides his hand off my mouth, easing the daggers from my grasp. He gives me a single terse nod. Only after giving him a reassuring nod back, does he pull his weight from me and sit on the edge of the cot, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling sharply.
A moment later he collects himself and stands, removing his cloak, handing it to me while his gaze flicks to the door.
“Put this on and come with me.”
I dip my chin in agreement and let the silence I’m accustomed to with the shadow master fill the room as he turns his back to me. Savoring the stormy scent that lingers on his cloak, I drape it over a silk dress pulled from my wardrobe and follow him out into the night.
I’m relieved to find that the deck is empty topside. There is no doubt in my mind that he knew we would have it to ourselves. He has never been dismissive of any risk where I am concerned, not when he can help it. The captain alone stands at the wheel, looking past me as if I am merely a phantom.
Smart man.
Leaning against the bow of the ship, I pull in a lungful of fresh crisp air, then another, and another. With greater effort than I will admit aloud, I manage to still the slight tremor of my body and let the cool sea breeze have a go at dampening the beast that roils inside me.
“It’s gotten worse,” he says, his eyes on the sea.
It isn’t a question, but I nod once.
“Leanna doesn’t know?” he asks, but he already knows the answer.
I just look at him skeptically and shake my head. She would never grant me a mission if she did. I would have been cast into her minor collection of broken Drakai who never quite made the cut.
“Of course she doesn’t,” he sighs.
I try to keep my mind off the bloody woman that haunts my dreams. I focus instead on the way the moonlight ripples across the waves. Lulled by the sound of the sea being cleaved apart by the ship as the wind pushes it through the open water. The early spring air is even colder out at sea. It fills my hood, spooling around my cheeks and whipping chilly tendrils across the back of my neck.
I watch Vakesh from the corner of my eye. His jaw feathers and relaxes, his body following suit. His lips form a thin, hard line, disrupting the masculine beauty of his normal jovial smile.
“We can disembark in Daidron. I will come up with an excuse for our delay. Perhaps there is someone there that can help with—”
