“Drop it,” he said, capturing my wrist.
I huffed a breath as I released the treasure back into the lining of his pocket. He let me go, patting his jacket a second time to make sure the jewel was still there.
“Nice try, even if it was predictable.”
“What did you expect? I didn’t have many options with you watching my every move.” I dusted off my hands and collected my gear, slinging my pack over my shoulder.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“But what about the treasure?”
“You mean this treasure?” I opened my palm to reveal the jewel.
He frowned and dipped his hand into his pocket, removing the piece of sea glass I’d left behind as a decoy. It had been one of my favorites—pale blue and worn into a crescent moon shape. Pretty rare, and I was sorry to see it go. But I shrugged, satisfied I’d won and closed my fist over the jewel.
“I think it’s rude to always take without giving something back. Keep the sea glass.” I winked. “It’s my gift to you.”
His jaw worked, and he shook his head, tossing the glass into the air with a laugh and catching it single-handedly. “What’s your name?”
I left him standing there and spoke over my shoulder as I walked out of camp. “You like to hunt for rare things. Figure it out.”
And he did, calling me by name when we crossed paths a few months later. I learned his too, and after a few more equally disarming encounters, it wasn’t long before he went from rival to partner.
Another crack of thunder dispelled the memory, and Gavin turned, watching me approach the rail.
“You wanted to talk?” I asked, raising my voice over the wind.
“I see you found my note.” He pushed off the rail; his fingersopening and closing into fists as if he were unsettled.
“Yes, I did. You broke my rule. But I decided to forgive you… Just this once.”
Gavin’s brow creased into an expression I’d never seen from him before. I’d expected a bold smile, confirming my suspicion that he’d gone back for the hair comb. Maybe even a teasing shrug as if perishing beneath a marauder’s blade was a small price to pay for getting the upper hand in last night’s awkward confrontation.
What I didn’t expect was the coiled tension in his movements as he came closer. The way his usually playful gaze had transformed into a pained search as it roamed over my body, his eyes clouded with some undetermined emotion.
“Marin, about last night—”
A roll of thunder swallowed the rest of his words. Wind surged across the deck as the dark clouds unleashed heavy rain in lashing sheets.
“We should talk inside!” I shielded my eyes, water soaking my hair and dress in seconds.
The crew scattered for cover as lightning slashed across the sky. The wind roared. I blinked through the downpour at the now-empty deck, a knot of dread in my stomach.
This storm felt wrong. It was too sudden, too violent. A tempest conjured as if by magic.
A haunting sound rose over the chaos, and I froze. Beneath the waves, a glow pulsed like a beacon, luring me toward its light. Waves crested the ship’s rail, icy water crashing across the deck. But all I could hear was the siren song. The same longing that had urged me to wear the comb now whispered in my ear, coaxing me to dive over the rail.
Come closer. It’s where you belong. All you have to do is jump.
My hand shot to my hair, fingers scrambling for the comb to tear it out and break the spell. But Gavin caught my wrist and dragged me back toward the cabins.
The ship tilted violently.
Another wave smashed over the rail. Water swirled around a net of cargo, the ropes snapping free. Crates careened across the deck, slamming into the barrier and vanishing overboard.
I stumbled over a loose rope and hit the deck hard. Pain burst through my shoulder.
