by S Lawrence
I had often spent hours reading out loud to my friend in the forest. He woofs gently as he settles down, laying over my foot and leaning against my leg. I throw my other leg over the arm of the chair, breaking my mother’s rule, and I can’t help but feel her here with me.
Opening the book, I begin to read of a land that sounds magical and make-believe, but it also calls to me, sings to my soul, and I understand what my fierce warrior had spoken of.
Chapter Two
CYDER
She is a goddess, like those the Druids worshipped.
I am willing to sacrifice myself to her. I will sacrifice the King to her, if she asks.
Forcing myself away from the door, I head over to my first mate. He is waiting, watching me too closely.
“Mind ye business, Travis,” I snap and he just grins, unfazed by my mood.
He’s been with me since almost the very beginning and is used to my shortness.
“Ye keeping the girl, Captain?” He seems entirely too interested for my comfort.
“If I am, she is no concern of yours.” I stake my claim and make it clear to him that she is off limits. I know Travis will spread the word.
“Didn’t think she was, Captain.”
I don’t fall for his sweet tone but I know he wouldn’t cross any line set for him.
“She is important to you so she’s important to us. Nothing more, nothing less. Kellihan has spread the word that we are to consider her ours.” His tone of reverence surprises me.
I’m only surprised by the reverence, not the fact that Kellihan had spread the word. Fallon’s cook was the unspoken leader of all the crews, and his word is law. Memories flash through my mind of him caring for us before we were tossed into the sea to die. The old man is the closest thing we had to family or a father after we were ripped from our mother’s arms. The image of my mother’s face flashes; the last time I saw her, it was twisted in fear and pain. Shaking my head, I try to thrust it away to where I keep it locked. It helps me to see her as I try to remember her. It is mostly just flashes of her smile. I no longer remember her voice or the feel of her arms, only her smile. I swallow hard, fighting the feelings threatening to overwhelm me.
“You okay, Captain?”
I blink at Travis’s words, suddenly reminded I’m not alone. “Fine. Reyna will be staying as we sail through the canal. Have the cook bring up food. Tell him to make it good, for the other ships’ cooks have been wowing her with their food.”
“I will make sure he thinks our pride is on the line.” Travis smirks. “The others are already unfurling their sails; are you ready to get under sail also?”
I look to the other ships, just beginning to move away from us. “Let them get a short distance away but keep them in sight,” I murmur as I glance at my quarters.
“Understood.” Travis turns sharply on his heel and starts toward the stairs, but I don’t miss the chuckle he tries to cover with his hand.
He is not wrong in his assumptions; I do want her to myself, unable to flee to another ship. I’ve seen the way she looks at the others. I see how she feels for them already, but there is no look like that in her eyes as she looks at me. Interest maybe, but no feelings. Not yet.
I’ve always liked a challenge.
The biggest challenge in this case will be me. I understand it, but even the knowledge won’t make it any easier for me to change my behavior or be less caustic to her. I don’t know how to be sweet like Wilder. I can’t be the strong silent type like Hagen. Fallon is the best of us, so it’s no surprise that she has fallen for him.
I am not soft or lovable. Staring out at the glassy water, I wonder how I might win a small part of her heart.
The thought gives me pause. I have wanted her since she stepped upon my deck with the beast at her side, but when did that desire change to more? Was it the tender looks she bestows on my brothers or when she dove into the water to save Hagen? Maybe when she climbed into my lap, teasing both Lash and myself.
Glancing back at my door, I wonder how to be a companion to her. Lover, I know, but more than that is foreign to me. I rarely spend time with a woman, and when I do, it’s in the bed, not out of it. How does a man woo a woman?
Jewels, dresses, or win her in bed so she must love you out of it? I can do all of those. I stalk across the deck and head down the stairs. I stride through the ship to the kitchen.
“Oliver?” I get the man’s attention.
“Aye, Captain?” He turns his head but continues to stir whatever he is cooking in the pot.
“Dinner? You know Kellihan pulled out the stops, wooed her with coconut.” I sniff the air, trying to get an idea of what he might be cooking. Spices filled the small kitchen.
He looks offended. “I can out cook that old man any day, and ye know it. I’m bringing the Latin flair.” He lifts the spoon and holds it out to me, his hand cupped underneath it. “I used some of the meat the beast brought down.”
I blow it once before drawing the steaming food into my mouth. The chunks of meat are spicy but not too hot, and the cubed potatoes are perfectly cooked, neither hard or mushy. It is delicious. An explosion of flavor.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Oliver.”
“Thank you for always getting me the spices, sir.” His chest has swelled at my compliment.
“I had confidence in you.” I pat him on his shoulder as he turns back to the pot.
“I’m also making bread and a dessert, Captain.” He preens.
“I’m looking forward to it,” I say as I turn to leave the galley.
I make my way through the rest of the ship, heading to my hidey hole and my treasure. Moving barrels around, I make my way through the maze to the very front of my ship. There, tucked against the sternpost, flush against the keelson, is my chest. My brothers keep theirs in their quarters, but I hide mine away. Trust doesn’t come easily to any of us, but I like my crew and would hate if any of them did something stupid.
Temptation can get the better of any man, myself included.
I’ve caught myself glancing at my brother’s hiding spots more than once. I run my hands over the carved top, where I had copied some of the designs in the book I had given to Reyna. The edges of the designs are worn smooth from my fingers rubbing over them. Hell, maybe I moved the chest here to keep myself from obsessing over it and the items it holds. I can understand why Reyna’s eyes keep returning to the chest she brought with her. It too is covered in beautiful carvings, different from those on mine but similar.
It could mean something, but I doubt it. I shake my head at my own foolishness. I can’t believe I’m getting caught up in Wilder’s fantasies. I agreed to keep her with us because I’m tired of being alone and I want my brothers happy, not because I believe in destiny and magic. Although, her power over the sea creatures does seem otherworldly.
Magic.
If I believe that, I have to believe the rest and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Instead of facing either possibility, I look down at my chest once again. Pushing the secret pin hidden on the back, I unlock the box and lift the lid. It opens easily and reveals its contents.
Wilder had focused on books when we found the city, and the others had each found things that drew them, things they thought would be useful to us. I had focused on finding things like I had seen on the King’s ship, the things that I had been whipped for seeing. He had a trove of jewels and gold and he didn’t like for anyone to know of it.
My skin on my back crawls, the scars tightening as the memories cascade through my mind. I can feel the whip cutting my flesh, and my fingers tighten on the chest as my breath comes in gulps. Sweat drips off my nose, the drops darkening the fabric that covers my most prized possession .
It has been a very long time since the memories have taken hold of me like this. Reyna is stirring up things I can’t control. I hate being out of control, for it reminds me too much of before we were thrown from the King’s ship.
My grandmother’s face floats in fro
nt of my eyes. It is an exact replication of the last moment I saw her, hands outstretched, grasping at my sweater as I was ripped from her. I had screamed for her until I watched him kill her, his eyes focused on my own. It was the first of many acts meant to break me.
Shaking my head, I force the other memories threatening my sanity away, back down to the bottom of the deep, where I keep them locked for everyone’s safety. Each of us have demons; I just can’t let mine out. Unlike Lash’s, who is happy between a woman’s legs, or Hagen’s, who is calmed by weapons, mine wants only to destroy.
I destroy everything and everyone around me. I revel in the chaos I create and the pain I cause until I gain control, and then the regret crushes me. Travis and the rest of the crew recognize the signs of both phases. Unfortunately, they have had to deal with the fallout from more than one episode.
This time, instead of blindly letting go of my control, I try to focus on why I came to my chest, to my treasure. Reyna.
I look down at the priceless items, my hoard. My fingers touch a ruby before moving to a diamond necklace. I had found these things throughout the city. Shops had stood forgotten, dust inches thick over cases filled with treasures. I had loaded carts full of things long forgotten and rarely seen since the battle. Some things are on my brother’s ships—chandeliers, paintings, statues—beautiful things that deserved to be brought into the world once more.
Things that deserved to be loved. Things like Reyna.
Where are these thoughts coming from? Love? Cherished?
Has she changed us so much already?
“Obviously,” I mumble as I focus on my treasure once more. “Why else are you here looking for something to win her over?”
I’m right and I’m talking to myself. I shake my head as I try to find something perfect. What would be perfect? I don’t know her well. I don’t know what I’m even looking for.
My fingers stray to the emerald green cloth and I smile. I had been surprised when I found it in the shop so long ago. It had been out of place among the jewels. It had been old, very old, ancient even, and it had called to me, resonated like a crystal bell inside me.
Unfolding the fabric, I look at the pendant and the delicate looking chain it hangs on.
Unlike the other things in the store made of gold or silver and encrusted with jewels of every color, this necklace was simple. The bronze was worn and tarnished, and even the chain was old, made from loops of the same bronze. It should be easily bent and broken but it’s strong.
Rocking back on my heels, I find myself shaking my head once again. Just like Reyna is strong. Damn Wilder and his stories of destiny and magic. I run my fingers through my hair, my eyes locked on the necklace. Maybe I should start with something less important, less symbolic.
Shifting, I look at my other container, the one that contains paintings. I think of the ones I had taken from the museum, but none of those seem quite right. Then I think of the small gallery that stood between two antique shops. The artists had been locals, the images painted of the city and area around it and its people. I had taken many of them, but one is vibrant in my mind. The woman was breathtaking, and the artist had captured her lost in thought. Even I could tell he had loved her.
I pull at the side of the crate, opening the panel, and move the canvases around until I find it. Sliding it free of the crate, I hold it out at arm’s length. Bright colored hair frames big eyes, and she is caught in a shaft of light as she sits beneath the branches of an old oak tree, moss hanging down to wrap her in an air of mystery. A man watches her from beneath another tree. I don’t know if I had noticed him before, but now my eyes keep focusing on him.
“Because you have been doing the same damn thing, you fool.” I have been watching Reyna, letting her look at my brothers with so much feeling in her wide eyes. “Time to join her or walk away.”
The painting is perfect. An offering for more. A promise of more.
Setting it to the side, I push the panel back into place, then move the other things back in front of the crate. I wrap the necklace back in the green fabric before closing the lid of the chest, listening for the click of the lock. It only takes me a few moments to put the wooden crates back around my treasure trove. Standing, I pick the painting up and then as I move through the maze, I shift different crates back into place, hiding the way to my stash.
I can smell dinner as I make my way down the narrow hallway. I pause outside the galley once more, saying nothing.
“I’ll be right behind you, sir.”
I nod. “Take your time.”
Stepping away, I continue through the belly of the ship, passing members of the crew, nodding at some, ignoring the looks of interest from others.
I climb up into the afternoon sun, stunned that the light makes the painting and the woman in it even more beautiful. Crystals glisten like diamonds, replicating stars in the woman’s eyes. Others tinted slightly green twinkle within the tree’s dropping branches. I can see golden ones shimmer in the night sky. Fireflies. Lifting the painting close to my face, I try to make out what the artist had used but there isn’t a piece big enough to identify them.
The person was a true artist, the strokes delicate but bold. My collection of books consists of legends and art. People who create fascinate me.
I stood staring at the painting long enough for the sun to sink lower in the sky. A noise forces me to turn, and there she stands with the door to my cabin open, her eyes locked on the painting in my hands.
“It’s beautiful.” Her voice is breathy and filled with emotion.
“It’s for you.” I hold it out as I turn to her. “A gift.”
“For me?” She steps away from the door, and now those brilliant eyes are locked on my face.
“Yes. I thought…” I pause, unsure of how to say what I’m thinking. “I thought you might want to hang it, to make my home your home.” I don’t say ‘to choose me, to love me.’
She smiles shyly, moving closer, and I let her take the canvas from my hands.
“I love it.” She lets her eyes travel around the woman’s face, almost caressing it. “She is magnificent.”
“Shall we see where to hang her?” I ask, holding out my hand and hoping she takes it.
She nods as she transfers the painting to one hand then places her smooth palm into mine. My fingers close around hers slowly, and she tightens hers around mine, starting forward and pulling me along behind her. The beast is lying across my couch and doesn’t even pretend that he might get down. She stops near the table, releasing my hand and spinning around to look for a spot for the woman.
“She needs to be in the light but not directly, so she doesn’t fade.” My voice is low but it draws her eyes to me once again.
She nods and looks around once more. I have my bed across from the window so I can wake to the morning light. She chews at her lip.
“What are you thinking? Ask,” I urge her, wanting to hear her wants.
“I was thinking it would be beautiful to wake up and see the sun on it.”
I blink, imagining it—her naked body against mine as the morning light glimmers over the painting, lighting it from within. Her body would be glowing just like the painting in that morning sun.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped.” She looks away.
“No. Let’s move the bed. It would be beautiful.” I don’t add the thoughts I had about her being beautiful in the same light.
“Really?” Her happiness will be worth the work this will take.
I nod as I turn to call for help. She doesn’t need to move the hulking bed frame. When I turn back, she is standing on the mattress and holding the painting up at the wall. She glances at me, and the smile on her face makes my heart stutter.
Footsteps force me to shove the emotions roiling just beneath the surface down.
“Captain?” One of the younger, newer boys stands in the open door, waiting for instruction.
“I need you to help me move the bed to the opposite wall
.”
Reyna jumps down, moving aside as he moves quickly to the other side across from me. I move to the edge of the bed and bend down, grasping the carved wood. I had found the bedframe in the city and forced the others to help me get it to the ship.
I had often wondered how our ships had gotten to the city. They were unlike any others we found there. Five ships from days long gone moored all along the river’s bank. At first, I thought, like the others, that they had been sailed there right after the battle, the city found by survivors. But long ago, I realized if that had been true, surely there would have been people living in the city. But there was no one. It was a ghost town. It was as if all of the destruction of the war had been wiped away.
Hagen had found a small globe of glass with a city inside it, and snow fell when you shook it. That was what New Orleans had been like, a city under a globe.
We set the bed down, having shifted it across the room. I had liked the bed because the headboard and the footboard were the same, with delicately carved designs in hardwood, wood polished and oiled until it is almost black.
Once we get it set into place, the boy leaves the room silently. Her fingers run over the carvings, like they had the door to Fallon’s quarters. I cannot boast doing these myself; I don’t have the talent he does. But the sight of her fingers caressing over the wood causes my stomach to tighten. Need crawls through me. Her fingers fall away as she moves back to the wall, and I watch as I try to control my desires.
Thunder claps loudly. I glance out the window, seeing clouds rolling toward us. She looks back at me and then out at the clouds.
“Can you hold it?”
I nod and join her in front of the wall, taking the painting from her. She spins away, throwing herself onto the covers. Laying back, she curls on her side, tucking her hand beneath my pillow. Her eyes are fixed on mine, and I don't try to hide my desires this time.
