Rohen loosened a breath, resting her elbows on the table. “Maybe we did need to get off that ship.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Kael mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It seems we’re all a bit high-strung.”
Leilani cut in before I had the chance. “When you first start sailing, the days on end spent at sea can mess with you. The way the waves slam against the hull, the silence that allows your thoughts to run wild, the knowledge that you will face danger and death—it all compounds. It’ll take time, but you eventually reach a point where your tolerance builds from days to weeks, and from weeks to months. Our firsthand experience of that change is why we elected to stop here. To gather our bearings. To decompress. To breathe in air without salt tainting our lungs.”
Bending forward more and craning her neck to face my little fang, Rohen spoke again. “I mean, it makes sense. It's exactly how I felt, thrown in the underground with Malrik Ravelle. Any chance I had to execute a mission was something I never wanted to pass up. Then it grew on me, and I became more accustomed, even though the abuse never ceased.” She didn’t give anyone the leeway to reply or ask questions as she focused on me. “So, say we find this piece of hidden treasure. What follows?”
“I believe you’re fully aware,” I stated matter-of-factly, my lips curling with a mischievousness I knew she understood.
“Caspian?”
Before I could offer a reply, the waitress strolled toward us with our drinks: three lagers topped to the brim, and two more decorated beverages that belonged to the two women keeping us company. Once she finished handing out our selected sins, she took our order, and each of us settled on the special: freshly carved roast with sides ranging from mashed potatoes to green beans.
Leilani, like the ever-pleasant individual she was, offered a curt nod and smile to our waitress. Surprisingly enough, she returned the gesture before stepping away from our table and waltzing back toward the bar.
With their utter disinterest in our arrival, not a single man had glanced over their shoulder or turned our way. Instead, their gazes remained fixed forward as if they were in a trance. They exchanged a few words with their counterparts, and when they chose to, they spoke in near-whispers, as if their silence were a holy vow—a dedication to the secrecy Thornebay embodied.
Interested in their mannerisms, I kept my attention on their minimal shifts and inaudible conversations as I brought my lager to my lips. Indulging myself with a greedy swig, I savored its crisp and refreshing undertones. With it settling in my gut, I pulled my gaze away from my ever-consuming analysis of the human psyche.
Meeting Kael’s stare, I lifted my brows as my next words came, carrying with them the weight of finality and the start to the end of a journey I’d been on since I was fourteen. “Once we secure the Eye, Caspian is next on our list. And once we have him?Anythingis fucking possible.”
CHAPTER 32
Rightful Claim
ROHEN
With my gaze trained on the spanning docks, I inhaled a breath filled with enchantment and espionage. My entire life had been spent underground, bowing to Malrik Ravelle’s demands and all it entailed to be “one of his.” I’d never had the privilege to venture far.
He never believed in the concept of freedom. It was a rule he enforced strictly, especially when it came to me. There had never been an instance in which I was granted the ability to explore, to sail the seas, and visit the other towns that made up the continent. Malrik knew I would run.
It wasn’t strictly an assumption; it was a previous attempt. I was certain he would beat the life out of me for it, and he nearly did.
That night sparked my wrath in a way I never previously knew possible. Most of the rage I carried was because of Malrik, and I intended to repay him for everything he’d done to me. For every rib he broke. For every punch he fractured my jaw with. For the numerous knife wounds he left scattered along my abdomen. And for the way he bent me over the table in front of the entire guild, raped me as a warningto the others, all before I received twenty-three lashings for what I’d done.
Twenty-three, because it had been my twenty-third birthday.
A hand settled on my shoulder, squeezing with a gentleness I’d never received from a man. As I glanced over my shoulder, a golden stare met mine, brows pinched together in what appeared to be concern.
“Everything okay?” Alastair asked, watching as his men made quick work of fastening the boat to the port.
Nipping at my cheek, I dipped my chin. “Yeah. Just got lost in thought is all.”
“Three days at sea will do that to you.” He nodded as if in understanding before leaning forward to whisper, “We all battle demons of some sort, but I feel you, and I may share a similar experience. If you ever need someone to talk to, let me know.”
Before I could reply—with refusal or acceptance, I wasn’t sure—he spun on his heel and made his way over to where the others waited for us.
Kael was to remain with the crew, the townsfolk of Veilmar far too familiar with his father’s greed. According to the prince, the king had established a handful of faulty truces with them, backing out of nearly all of them when he desired something. And while we weren’t incapable of managing suspicions of who we housed onboard, it was a risk that Alastair didn’t want to take while we hunted for Ellira’s Eye. With a small, anonymous group, we were more likely to be left alone.
With an adamant gesture, Percy elected to stay behind. Alastair nodded and turned to glance back at me, offering a subtle dip of his chin.
You’re welcome to come with me.
A warmth bloomed in my chest, a softness settling over my heart at the unspoken words he offered, mixed with the genuineness in his gaze. It was an extension I’d never heard uttered from a man’s lips, an open offer I never envisioned possible from someone of the opposite sex, mainly when my entire life entailed the opposite, from Malrik’s hands or another random stranger.
Caspian.
Why his name came to mind pissed me off. He’d never touched me as every other male lingering in the shadows of my past had, with exploratory hands and lust-clouded minds. But he robbed me of my only chance of slipping free from the collar Malrik had clasped around my throat, only to shackle me with one of his own. It hadn’t been an assault on my body, but an attack on my mind. It was his willingness to hand me off to his men as if they owned me, as if I didn’t belong to?—
