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The man’s eyes glazed golden, and he instantly smiled agreeingly. Nodding his head, he gestured me forward. “Have a wonderful time, welcome aboard,” he drawled, his voice distant.

I climbed the gangway, my heels loud against the metal grating as Layne’s voice praised me in my mind, Bravo, darling.

The guest's eyes swept over me as I stepped onto the deck. Whether it was my late arrival or the glamour’s magic doing what it did best, I didn't know.

You’ve done amazing, Evelyn. Now, stay focused, Layne said.

You know I’m starting to like having my own personal cheerleader, I replied in my mind.

Layne’s laugh was subtle, but I heard the low rumble of it in my head.

“Looks like we’ve got one more, boys!” a grating voice called near the other side of the deck.

My breath caught. I knew exactly who it was, and the sound of it made my stomach sink like a dropped anchor.

Preston Willows stumbled toward me with the same disgusting grin plastered on his face that had plagued me for years.

My skin crawled as he approached, and the edges of my vision started to darken with fury.

Relax, Evelyn. He’ll be begging for his life at your feet, like the queen you are soon enough. Layne’s voice coiled around me, pulling my focus back.

By the end of tonight—he will be, I responded, sensing Layne’s approving grin.

I held out my hand as Preston stumbled drunkenly in front of me. “Welcome aboard, beautiful,” he slurred. His voice was slime.

I had no idea whether he would question anything about me or not, but I wasn't taking any chances, not this time.

As much as he didn't deserve to breathe the same air, let alone touch me, I needed to play the part for now: Demure. Elegant. Everything a woman of Preston’s supposed stature would be.

Preston grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, just as I expected.

My skin bristled with disgust as his lips met my skin. I could have retched on him right then and there. It took every ounce of self-control in me to keep my claws from slicing through this borrowed flesh and slitting his throat like paper.

Soon, I thought. Very soon.

Quickly, I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear. The familiar stench of bourbon flooded my nose, only fueling my magic from the burning rage that thrummed through me.

“You will not question why I’m here or who I am. You’re delighted to see me.” My words wrapped around his neck like a noose. His head hung in place as the magic worked its way through him, eyes glazing golden before quickly dissipating as he righted himself.

I straightened myself and met his gaze with an alluring smile. “Sorry I’m late,” I said, “I appreciate you waiting. I’ve been so looking forward to this.”

I really, really have.

Preston’s eyes raked over me, and I wanted nothing more than to pluck them from his skull.

“No worries at all, babe,” he said, his hand moving to the small of my back, gesturing to the party. “Glad you could come.”

The feeling of his hand made my stomach turn, and my chest tightened.

“We’re setting sail right now,” he said.

I smiled and nodded as I turned toward my left, my gaze sweeping across the guests, taking in the crowd—thirty or more people. I definitely had to be careful.

As I looked toward the railing, the world froze.

Ethan Ward’s unmoving gaze was locked onto me, and my heart skipped, worried that my glamour might have dropped by the way he was staring.

Our eyes remained locked on each other as I made my way toward the bar, black dress billowing behind me in the wind. In that moment—that one terrible and perfect moment—I saw confusion flicker across his face. As if some tiny piece of my heart I’d left with him was calling out to mine, trying to return home.