“His journals,” she whispered before she held my stare. “Caspian has been working to understand the prophecy for years. He has scrolls, books full of information, hand-written notes… And amidst it all, a confession.”
“How the fuck did you…” Trailing off, the question died on my tongue. Rohen Levitte was a renowned assassin, capable of executing such a task undetected. Not only that, but our crew had been cut in half by her blade, making it even easier to slip into Caspian’s quarters. With the thought, my brows furrowed. “A confession? I’m sure it’s something he’s told?—”
“He’s bound, Syoran.” Rohen swallowed, shaking her head. “He couldn’t have shared it even if he wanted to, not without risking his life.”
Alastair sheathed his sword. “He’s the son of Elaros, the God of the Dead, and has reasonable suspicion that he and Rohen aren’t the only ones.”
CHAPTER 46
Royal Invitation
ROHEN
The words the captain of theScarlet Tempestuttered hung in the silence, carrying with them the implications of truth. There remained many unknowns, feelings that settled within me that I couldn’t quite place. And after sneaking into his quarters and flipping through the pages Caspian had left behind, it made me wonder just how much we had yet to uncover.
“So you’re insinuating that there are children of the Damned just running around and the Others are doing nothing about it?” Syoran glanced between us with building disbelief. “Tell me howthatmakes any sense.”
“It doesn’t,” Alastair stated matter-of-factly, “which means we don’t have the full picture. Perhaps there is a reason they haven’t gone after the remaining half-breeds?—”
Blowing out a breath, I shook my head. “I am standingrighthere.”
A grin bloomed on Alastair’s lips as he dipped his chin. “Oh, I’m aware.”
“You’re a prick.”
“Yes, yes, he is.” Where I expected the reply to come from Syoran or the medic, Parran, the honey-filled feminine hum caught me off guard.
Leilani.
She leaned against the doorway to Syoran’s room. Her rich, golden skin caught the sun filtering in through the porthole, bathing her in ethereal beauty. Her dark locks sat partially pulled back, a band holding the upper portion spun into a quick bun. With her preferred hat absent, it became far easier to admire the sharp line of her jaw and her high cheekbones, and I found myself entranced as if one of the gods had taken their time when crafting her.
Gold eyes rolling, Alastair focused on her like the pathetic man he was. “I’m glad to see you’ve risen to take on another day with me, little fang.”
“And I’m glad to see ourguestdidn’t execute lovely Parran.” She nudged herself from the wall, walking into the space. Shorter than me by a couple of inches, the medic's height devoured Leilani’s small, yet curvy frame. “Because if that had been the case, it would’ve been your neck, darling.”
“Sometimes I feel as if you prefer their company over my own.”
Leilani lifted a brow at the man she undeniably loved. “Perhaps I do.”
A light dusting of pink flashed across Parran’s lilac cheeks. “I-I… Um, I don’t want to intrude, truly.”
“This is their form of foreplay,” I interrupted, slipping my hands into the pockets of my trousers.
Shooting me a mischievous look, Leilani smiled. “As much as I’d love to continue indulging, I believe I interrupted a discussion and failed at an introduction.”
Her fingers brushed across Parran’s arm as she passed, and she stepped directly in front of Syoran without hesitation. He merely gazed down at her, his frame devouring her similarly to how Caspian’s had swallowed mine.
While slightly shorter than his captain, Syoran was intimidating in his own right. So believably so that any onlooker might assume the variance in his muscle mass compared to her petite size would make her weak against him. But while I hadn’t seen her oppose a man, the mannerin which she tamed Alastair, combined with cautionary tales from the crew, I knew better.
Men were renowned for underestimating women.
“Leilani Kapule.”
With a lengthened sigh, Syoran accepted her hand. “Kao. Syoran Kao.”
The corner of her mouth curled upward with intentional deadliness. “Happy to have you on board. Though I will warn that if you elect to try anything, I will ensure the men manning this ship strip you of your skin before gutting you alive. Got it?”
Striations danced along Syoran’s jaw. “Well aware.”
