Page 41 of The Stolen Crown

Chin lifted, I reluctantly followed him toward the staircase for the upper decks. “You might’ve sent someone else to fetch your unwanted charge. Shouldn’t have troubled yourself.”

A small squeak slipped over my tongue when halfway up the steps, Tait spun me around, my back to the wall. One forearm rested over my head as the man crowded me. His body was so near but never truly touching mine.

“Repulsive as you find me, no one else will do until we reach the Royal City. Understand? The Ever King charged me with your safety. So safety is what I will give you. Now, move.”

Gods, Tait was…a whirlwind. Much like the sea, he tossed my thoughts to and fro, and I never knew from where he might strike next.

There were times he almost seemed gentle. Times when I caught him looking my way like he might want to laugh with me and others, or even speak something more than snide, lashing words.

But it never lasted, always ending too swiftly to know if the glances were even true.

I’d always been rather blasé with men. Always searching for the soul-deep love like my parents and the other earth fae royals. A few touches, a few nights of pleasure, those were part of the experience. Even if those interactions ended amicably with no declarations of passionate love, I was confident. Always felt like I knew what to say, how to bat my lashes, how to snicker and tease at the proper time.

Not with Tait. Not here. Not around this man. A man who, mere moments ago, demanded I leave him be.

Not more than a few heartbeats before, I determined to fade into the backdrop, avoiding him as he requested. What a fool I was. In his presence for a short time and already I wanted to lean in a little more, linger a little longer, if only to breathe in the warmth of his skin for another moment.

He tugged me into the captain’s cabin. “Stay put,” he said, voice low.

The ship lurched again. I grappled for the post near the door. “Are storms violent in the Ever?”

“At times.” Tait hesitated, half inside the cabin, half out. “This one formed abruptly. We may need to dive.”

He was warning me, preparing me. Another glimmer of the jagged kindness I suspected could live inside Tait Heartwalker.

I hated sailing beneath the surface and he knew it. No mistake, I would survive, but my lungs were not the same as sea fae. It felt like a heavy boulder sat on my chest. My skin grew cold, blood chilled in my veins, and by the end of it, my skull swam as though filled with seawater.

Still, I was not going to whimper my discomfort if it saved us from thrashing about in a storm.

I returned a stern nod. Tait paused, one breath, two, then clapped a hand on the frame of the doorway before stepping out onto the deck, locking the cabin behind him.

At the sound of the door latch clicking into place, I slumped against the wall, one palm to my thudding heart.

Another lurch of the ship. My eyes tightened, my fingernails dug into the wooden wall.

Storms were common. Tait was a skilled sailor. Word throughout the ship was that Tait rivaled the Ever King in his control of a helm. Sea fae knew their waters. The room tilted and I could not stop the shrill cry I shouted to the empty cabin.

I blew out a long breath and stumbled toward the wooden desk, catching hold of the side to keep myself upright. Maps, inkwells, and a few fishbone quills were secured in a glass case bolted to the surface. For storms. Bolted for storms.

Storms were expected in the Ever.

I repeated the same assurance until I could maneuver my way to the narrow bench tucked against the large bubbled glass window. The night was as black as a glossy raven’s wing. Not a glimmer of the stars remained.

Shouts rattled beyond the doors. Curses of monsters from the deep.

I tightened my grip on the velvet cushion on the bench. Superstitions. Nothing more. Sea Folk always insisted something was poor luck or a curse or treacherous sea gods. Like Fireweaver’s reluctance to repeat The Summons.

Then someone screamed. Not a command, not a cry of annoyance. Terror came from the deck of the ship.

It jolted to one side. Water slapped at the glass until I was certain the sea devoured the whole stern while the bow pointed toward the stars. The ship reared again and the cabin righted. Waves pummeled the glass, again and again.

Something—or someone—struck the door with a thud. A throaty sort of groan followed.

Storms were expected in the…

No. Panicked shouts and groans grew frenzied beyond the door. This was no ordinary storm.

The Ever Crew did not scream and wail and descend into chaos. They were brisk and focused in their duties. Good hells, most of them laughed with glee when the skies darkened.