“Stay out of it, Mykonos.”Herpsychíswept out of her head.
When she looked back at the prince, he had slipped into the pants, though they did little to hide his form underneath.
“Is something wrong, or do you always barge into people’s quarters without knocking?” Dimitris ruffled his hands through his hair.
“I never see Cal knock when he comes to speak to you.” Thalia could barely look at him. Her skin flushed a rosy hue.
“Yes, but Cal usually doesn’t come barreling through when I’ve told him I am going to bathe.” He laughed, plucking a thin cotton shirt from his bedside before sitting down on his chair. The same one Mykonos had not so subtly scratched tiny claw marks into during their dinners.
Thalia huffed, interlacing her fingers behind her back. “How was I supposed to know that?”
“You are supposed to knock.” Tapping the seat next to him, Dimitris beckoned her to sit.
“Right…” Thalia reluctantly took a seat beside him.
It was strange, she didn’t remember there being so much character in Dimitris’s quarters the few times she had been here. A sea of gray and some old torn-edged charts, of course, but she never noticed the old trinkets he had littered about his desk and bureaus, nor the oil paintings that hung about the walls. Every item appeared to be from a different part of Odessia—dried flowers in a vase that hailed from the deserts of Anatole, coral from the shores of the Saron Sea, scenes of the gods both Olympi and Grechi. What was most surprising of all was the walls between the seating area of his quarters and where his bed resided. Bound leather tomes lay on shelves stacked from floor to ceiling, each with a hand-inked date on the spine.
Twisting her mouth and straining her eyes, Thalia tried to make out if the spine included any other text. “What are those?” She pointed at the books.
“Excuse me?” Dimitris questioned back.
“The books along your hall, the ones with all the dates.”
He inhaled a sharp breath and clenched his jaw, fiddling with his nail beds. “They are my ship’s logs. Is that what you barged in here to ask about?”
Alright. This was her moment. Now or never.
“I came to apologize.”
A hacking sound came from deep within the prince’s throat. “You came to what?”
“Do not make me repeat myself,fengaráki,because I will not.”
His hand slid over to hers, squeezing it firmly. “I accept.”
“Wonderful. Then I guess I’ll be leaving.” Thalia stood to head toward the door, but Dimitris did not let go of her hand.
“You don’t have to, you know? Leave, that is.” He looked up at her from beneath his eyelashes. “Have a drink with me.” His voice changed, no longer lighthearted and flirtatious.
Dimitris’s eyes widened, flickering back and forth, searching her face for something. The prince seemed, dare she say, lonely. And because of that Thalia almost stayed.
Almost.
Chapter Eight
Dimitris
Jagged, deep-gray cliffs came into view, black shale jutted in shards as tall as any man from both sides creating a blockade to any who tried to seek shelter on land. The sky was muted, clouds surrounding the isle, dampening the pale blue skies they had sailed under the last few days. Green-black sea slapped against the hull of theAphroditewith a tumultuous crack, splintering wood with every white capped wave. Thunder began the rumble above, the sparking of lightning adding to the violent sound of the incoming storm.
Holding firm to the ship’s wheel, Dimitris attempted to shake the rain-soaked tendrils of his hair out of his eyes. With the strength of the wind, he didn’t dare remove one of his hands towipe the pieces away for fear the wheel might spin out and send them hurtling straight for the wretched shore they so narrowly were avoiding.
It was reckless—he knew that—risking the narrow strait that cut through Siren’s Cove, but it would take a day off their journey. They needed every extra moment they could capture, especially as they raced against the delay traveling to Lesathos caused.The Nostoswas never able to use the strait, due to her wider beam, but Cal had captained smaller ships through before and had given Dimitris strict warning to travel the channel in the center, else they would be nothing but splintered wood and flesh cast along the shore.
The air turned sour and the wheel struggled against his grip, begging to turn out to starboard.Gods-damned sirens. Their call could lure even a ship to the wretched depths of the sea. Dimitris’s arms strained once more against the will of the storm, gripping the handles so tightly his fingers may very well break off. Only four of them aboard theAphroditewere immune to the call of the creatures that lurked below—Cal, Thalia, Dafne, and himself. All blessed by the Grechi in one way or another. Dafne was locked away in Thalia’s bathing chamber, retching what little she’d had for breakfast, and Thalia was tending to the sails as the forceful winds threatened to tear holes straight through the cloth. That left Cal and Dimitris as the only two who could sail the ship through, each taking turns until the other was rested from the strain of guiding the ship through the wake, wind, and monsters of the sea.
“Captain, we have a problem!” Cal called through the pouring rain, droplets hitting him sideways in the face below his strainedeyes. “The beasts are clawing their way through the sides of the ship, she is taking on more water than the men below can handle!”
Fuck, those wretched sirens were as vindictive as they come. They would sink the ship, angered that their prey had not sacrificed themselves to the deep beneath. Every man aboard the ship had come prepared with small balls of wax to place in their ears, blocking out the luring call of the winged creatures. He would not allow a single member of his crew to be condemned to the seas.
