With all the emotions welling up inside me, I don’t even think before I hurl those words at him. I don’t feel even a sliver of guilt, though, because they’re true. Why would I want to be here? I didn’t come here on my own. He captured me. He’s a grown man. He can take a little dose of truth.
He lets out a huff. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I don’t belong here,Captain.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, his muscles rippling in the moonlight. “You do, but that is beside the point. You still aren’t going anywhere.”
“That may be what you believe, but I will get out of here,” I grind out, matching his stance and crossing my arms, too.
This is not part of my plan. Admitting that I still want to leave is only going to undo any progress I had made over the past two days. But he just caught me trying to leave. That alone clued him in to how I feel, so voicing it won’t change anything.
He jerks his head toward the door. “Go try it.”
I pause, waiting to see if he is serious, but his face stays stoic. Walking to the door, I feel his eyes on me the entire way. The handle turns as I twist it, but when I pull, nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge. I pull harder, quickly scanning for a lock I had missed when I hear his footsteps padding up behind me.
I release the handle and step back from the door as he stops next to me. His gaze holds mine as he reaches out and turns the handle, pulling the door open with ease.
My jaw drops.
His lips turn up in a smirk as he pushes the door closed again.
“See, princess? You aren’t. Going. Anywhere.” The grumble in his voice sends shivers down my spine, and he brushes past me, heading back to bed.
I silently curse the island and the magic, and a seed of doubt sprouts inside me again. Why is it keeping me here? Why won’t it let me go home? Why is it subjecting me to this monster?
I spin around, scowling at the room, hoping the island knows how much I hate it right now.
Weston slides beneath the covers, resuming the position he was in before I tried to take back my dagger. I stomp to my side of the bed and kick off my boots, ready to curl up and sleep away the defeat.
“Clothes,” he calls out, clearly annoyed.
“Ugh,” I groan and grab the shirt from where I had hidden it under my pillow. I quickly undress, sliding his shirt over my head and pulling it down so it doesn’t reveal too much.
Not that he’s looking; his eyes are closed.
I curl onto my side and pull the blankets back over me. My body hums with energy, hyperaware of his proximity, and I readjust every few minutes, trying to find a comfortable position. I’m still way too tense after being pinned underneath him. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to stop the throbbing that has only barely subsided, and let out a frustrated breath.
I need to clear my mind, focus on something else, not every tingling nerve in my body.
Weston sighs heavily from his side of the bed, but says nothing.
I finally find a comfortable position and stare at the wall. If I stare long enough, hopefully the exhaustion will eventually overtake me.
Minutes pass and I can tell he isn’t asleep. He should be able to relax now that the threat of me getting my dagger and escaping is crushed.
I don’t know what makes me ask it, if it’s the energy or the defeat, a moment of insanity brought on by my eyes gawking at his body earlier, or just pure curiosity, but once the words are out of my mouth, I can’t take them back.
“Where’d you get your scar?”
The question hangs in the room between us, and I wonder if he actually is asleep.
A few beats of silence pass and I nuzzle back into my pillow, relieved that he didn’t hear me ask it, and it’s as if I never did.
His response breaks the silence a moment later. “I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.”
The words give me pause. I have no idea what he wants to ask me, and it feels like his curiosity is coming out of nowhere. He hasn’t asked me hardly anything except if I’ve eaten since I’ve been on this ship, and I wonder if now is the time. Is he going to use my vulnerable position to get information out of me?
I can always lie. He can’t see my face, so if it is something I don’t want him to know, he won’t. But if this is it, the inquiry about the healing waters, why would he give me the option to say no?
