“For one, you didn’t seem like you wished to leave.”
“Forgive me, but how could you presume to know what I want?”
A deep furrow carved his brow. “Lady Imogen, I have eyes. And though I cannot fathom the pairing—a secret Siren and her hunter—you couldn’t keep your hands from your fiancé last night. The captain spent half the evening with his lips on your neck.”
I prayed it was too dark for him to see the rush of embarrassment that heated my cheeks. “The captain also spent half the morning telling me of his plans to force a blood bond between us.” He froze at that. “You saw how easily he sliced my hand in that ritual room. How thoughtlessly he hurt me.”
Anger seemed to reignite within him. The heat of it filled his eyes. “Agatha left me with the impression that your identity is unknown here—that you both take great pains to keep it that way. How does the captain know what you are?”
I pressed a hand to my chest where my heart thudded against my ribs. “He… did not know until last night.”
“Before the feast or after?”
“After.”
His patience snapped. “Tell me plainly how he knows.”
I hesitated, and he gave me a withering look. It surprised me, how desperately I wanted his poor view of me to change.
He strode toward me and stood so close that I had to look up to meet his eye. “Answer me or leave.”
“I shifted,” I said suddenly. “In front of him.”
Confusion narrowed his gaze. “How is that possible? A Siren’s power is tied to the sea. You shouldn’t be able to change this far away from it.”
“I…” My eyes dropped to his chest. “There was… sea salt… on his skin.”
He paused. “On his skin?”
“Yes. And I… well… I tasted it.”
“Youtasted—” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you without both honorandself-control? Giving your blood freely, and now this—” He paced away from me, mumbling to himself in a pious fit. “What kind of coward stays in this place, scraping to Nemea’s whims? You’re an imbecile to marry a man whose job it is to kill you.”
Fury filled me, alarming and hot, and I heard Nemea’s scathing voice in my head.It is easy to begoodwhen you’re blessed by the bloody fucking Gods.“How dare you!” I balled my hands to fists so I wouldn’t shove them against his chest. “I belong to Nemea. What should I have done? Should I have told him I prefer to not marry? Tell me how you would treat a subject who denied you, Your Majesty.” But he didn’t. He merely watched me in quiet, wide-eyed shock as I went on. “I have twisted and broken myself to survive here. You could never understand what that is like—”
“You should have tried to leave a long time ago.”
“Yes,” I snapped. “I should have. But I am tryingnow.” I held his gaze. “Will you help me?”
We stood in tense, heavy silence, breaths speeding and mingling. Then he gave a frustrated grunt. “Give me your hand.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Let me close that cut.”
I looked down at my gouged palm. I’d been so angry I’d forgotten about it, but he hadn’t. He had the Great God Panos’s power over life, the power to grow and mend. Slowly, eyes locked with his, I extended my wounded hand. “This is not the help I’m requesting of you.”
“I know.” His fingers were impossibly warm for the temperature in the drafty chamber. With a strong but gentle touch, he inspected the cut. “It’s deep.”
“Yes.”
“There’s too much scar tissue here.” The anger in his voice had dulled, and all that remained was tension. “I can’t prevent it from becoming another scar. I’m sorry.”
I’d never received such an earnest apology. I spoke carefully, trying to hide my surprise. “I am not imbecilic enough to think I’d be undamaged, Your Majesty. What’s another scar atop many?”
He gave me a quick, curious look before a heat built in his hands. A heat like the sun, coming from inside him. I held my breath and watched the red flesh around the gash start to soothe. “It would start a war,” he said, his focus on my wound. “If Nemea knows I helped you escape.”
Slowly, my skin began to knit together. I pulled in a shallow gasp as I watched it—a network of pale, fleshy lace, its stitches growing closer and closer together as the heat he poured into me spread.
