I glared.
He winked.
I wanted to ask what would happen if I was found guilty—but I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was afraid.
Besides, I knew. Everyone knew. Witches were evil.
Witches were burned.
“Aalto, you’re slow,” Kye said, his smile growing into the side of his mouth. “Did you lose the use of your legs in four days’ time? Would you rather I carry you?”
Halfway through the door of the cell, I whirled on him. “Do not touch me.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” A lazy arm slung against the iron bars, Kye leaned in, golden irises sparkling. “Cranky after the parade of rancid stew? Hungry for something a little more warm-blooded?” He arched his neck towards me. “Go on. Try a taste. I won’t tell.”
Stomach curling in disgust, I pushed past him to climb the ladder. He trailed directly below me, fingertips brushing my heels.
“Well, I’ve personally always found this ship hideous, but I must say the décor has improved,” came his voice from under the layers of my hau bark skirt.
I swiveled just as he reached the landing and shoved him back.
His eyes widened as he fell, and I won’t lie, the muffled thud that followed filled my soul with more happiness than a warm floor and a fish baked in citrus ever could have.
I stalked forward without him, though I had no idea where to go. The ship was a maze of narrow hallways filled so deeply with crates and barrels, I was forced to turn sideways as I worked my way through.
Fingers clawed at my shoulder, shoving me to the side. Kye’s eyes seared into me, blazing and feral as he pressed my spine against the wall. His hips burrowed into mine, his hands stringing my arms above my head.
His chest inflated, heart beating angrily through his jacket.
“Youwillbehave,” he commanded without an ounce of the crooked mischief his voice had held the moment before. “Any misconduct this afternoon willnotwork in your favor.” His eyes trickled over me. “Though if you want to play rough later—”
I threw my weight into him with a growl, and he laughed. “Get it all out now, witch. Once we set foot in the captain’s cabin, there’ll be no opportunities for you to apologize.”
“Yeah?” I glared, my lungs filling and emptying in sweeping gasps. “Where’smyapology?”
I watched his lashes flicker. His gaze softened. He exhaled through his nose, the wind of his breath sending stray hairs flying out over my cheeks. Mint, rain, and something oxidic—the scent of a rusted ship mixed with the salt of the sea, perhaps.
For a moment, I thought hemightapologize. Panic burst through my head—Mihauna, I was little match for his golden gaze. What would I do with an apology from him? Certainly not accept it. But the way he looked at me—
I snarled at him, twisting any way I could to break free from his grasp.
Kye merely watched me, a foolish sadness in his eyes I wasn’t willing to try and comprehend. His fingers loosened a fraction, his body began to tilt away—
“If you’re finished,” came a drawl from the top of the stairs. My head snapped toward it, but Kye’s gaze remained on me. His eyes hardened, his grasp tight once more.
The tall man from the beach stood watching us, his fingertips pressed gently together. Thaan.
He turned and disappeared through a door. Taking me by the shoulder, Kye followed.
22
The captain’s cabin sat in the stern of the ship. After three days in the dark cargo hold, I was surprised at the sprawl of it. Eight arched windows graced the wall ahead, set behind a wooden table that served as a study. Maps sat stacked on top of each other. A knife supplied itself as a paperweight in one corner, and a silver candle holder did the same for the opposite end, its candle thin and half gone, waxy drops hardened down the sides.
A bowl of fresh fruit and a roasted chicken claimed one side of the table, glazed and glistening. Three wine glasses waited next to a corked bottle.
I lunged for the knife, and Kye immediately snatched it out from under my hand. He tossed it into the corner of the room, where naval swords and armaments lined the wall, then pulled me in front of a chair, directly across from Thaan.
“Good afternoon,” Thaan drawled, all hollow cheeks and thin lips. His hair was somewhere between gray and the color of straw, and just as dull and lifeless. He’d tied it back in a low, unassuming braid, though his eyes pierced me with ice. My neckprickled so hard it felt like someone pinched me, and on instinct, I looked out the window at the water calmly stroking the docks below.
