She’d ignored him. “What did you do with my necklace?”
Smirking, he’d pulled it from the small leather pouch on his belt and handed it to her.
The moment it touched her fingers, she knew the harthfret was gone. “You took it without asking?”
Nonchalant, he’d shrugged at her indignant tone. “You bound my life to yours without my permission, so I can’t trust you with your freedom, as it is now intrinsically tied to my own. It seems only right to me that I hold both.”
She’d hated him for that. And for all the centuries he’d kept it hidden from her.
Now …
Unable to believe he’d finally returned it, she opened the letter that he’d left so that she could see why he’d finally changed his mind after all this time.
I should have given this back long ago. It was an unbelievably selfish thing to do and I won’t keep you bound any longer. When we make our next port, I’ll purchase a new ship for the crew. Santiago has agreed to take you to any port you wish. Not that you need it, as you are the ship, but I did ask because I know how much you hate to be alone.
D.
A strange weepiness possessed her as she stared at the strong, masculine script. Undeniably thoughtful, this was the kindest thing anyone had done for her.
What was more, he’d had her stone reset into a new necklace. A beautiful, delicate cage that formed the outline of an ancient oak. The glow of her harthfret silhouetted the gold to make it appear as if a moon or fairy light illuminated it. It was so beautiful and carefully constructed.
As if made by a loving hand. His own hand, no doubt, as he wouldn’t have entrusted it to anyone else, since a careless smith could have accidentally destroyed it and killed them both in the process. Aye, metalworking was another of Du’s gifts from his human life. Though the only thing he’d ever given such tender care to was the forging of his weapons or the carving and engraving of his ogham runes and casting sticks.
The things his life depended upon.
Cradling it in her palm, she went to find him.
Which didn’t take long. He was on deck, next to Sancha, while the tall, ethereally beautiful woman straightened the collar of his shirt and jacket that had gotten rumpled from some activity.
“Best be careful, Captain. You almost fell overboard.”
Du snorted. “Water’s the least of what concerns me. Besides, Kalder would have fished me out.”
Mara didn’t miss the way Sancha’s hand stayed a little longer on Duel’s chest than what was necessary to fix his collar. Or the hunger in the woman’s eyes as she smiled up at him and brushed her hand down his arm to smooth the jacket down more.
As if sensing her presence, Du looked up and caught her gaze, which must have betrayed her irritation. At least the questioning expression on his face said he had a good idea that she was less than happy about their exchange.
And apparently their close proximity, as he quickly stepped back from Sancha and gruffly cleared his throat. Adjusting his somber cuff, he came over to Mara.
“Is there a problem?”
Aye, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of stating it out loud. He was arrogant enough already.
Worse? She had a sudden, inexplicable urge to duplicate Sancha’s actions with Du’s standing collar, even though there was nothing amiss with it at present. “Nay. I only wanted to thank you.”
Her gratitude appeared to embarrass him. “Nothing to thank me for. If you’ll excuse me…” He moved past her to speak with William.
Mara started to call him back, but that would be cruel given her earlier words to him when he’d offered her friendship—perhaps even more—and she’d returned it with rude enmity.
Now she mentally kicked herself for that stupidity. Why had she never noticed before just how handsome he was? How caring he could be whenever he chose it?
Instead, she’d focused solely on his short temper. His caustic ways with those he didn’t care for, and the fact that he was extremely reclusive. But then, given his mixed heritage, she couldn’t blame him for the latter. His parents had saddled him with a horrible secret. One wrong move and his Aesir brethren would have cut his throat to claim the other half of his blood.
The Deruvians would have been no better. Indeed, what had they done to him and his family? Killed his sister and slain him while his guard had been down.
Vine had slit his throat, then cut out his heart to use for spells.
Which made her curious.…
