Hence the five new soul bonds she forced with absolutely no one’s consent.
Hunky soul bonds. And they’ll get used to them, just give them all time.
You are an absolute menace, I tell her. But rather than feeling chastened, she preens.
Finch and I barely know each other. We’re acquaintances, bordering on in-laws, at best.
And now I can feel exactly where he is at all times, and every so often, I’m delivered an unwanted sneak peek of his emotions.
Right now, that seems to be a whole big dose of confusion.
“Are you all right?” The words fly out of my mouth before I can catch them and cram them down my throat.
His lips quirk into a little smirk that does strange things to my insides. “I’ve been better, love, I’ll admit that much,” he replies. “Yourself?”
Bobbing my head while giving an awkward shrug, I struggle to come up with an answer that’ll encompass exactly how I’m doing. There are at least five possible conversation topics threatening to spill out of my mouth, and all of them are equally awful and awkward.
So... thanks for observing me getting railed six ways to Sunday the other night. Things didn’t quite pan out how we’d hoped, eh?
Good job on smashing up those ships, I saw you gobble up a load of the king’s men like they were a tasty treat.
If you’re wondering where your brother is...
“We should go to your office,” I say, right as another wave hits and I bash into the wall yet again. At this rate, I’m going to end up with a gnarly bruise on my hip, and we’re both in danger of waking Torin and Aster up. Mother Ocean knows they’ve both worked themselves to the bone and they need sleep.
Finch raises an eyebrow at me, and my stomach gives an errant flip, like a dog uncertainly wagging its tail. I’m aware that I just ordered the captain about his own ship. Well, if he doesn’t like that, he’s really going to hate it when he finds out what else I’ve done over the past couple of days.
He smirks at me and gives a little wink, and air whooshes out of my lungs. “Lead the way then, love.”
The sea is choppier around here than I remember the last time we were sailing. I end up clinging to the wall, running one hand along to keep me steady as we sway from side to side.
A particularly nasty wave has my feet losing contact with the floor for a moment, and my knees buckle when I land again. I stagger, and then Finch’s hands are on my shoulders, steadying me until I can get my legs under me. The moment he touches me, a shock of sensation goes through me, and I suck in a sharp breath. All around us are the sounds of the crew groaning in their cabins as they’re thrown around, and there are a couple of loud bumps as someone clearly falls out of bed.
“We, er, we did have hammocks for a while,” Finch tells me. “They’re traditional, you know? Meant for exactly these conditions so that you’re less likely to fall out, but they’re not so easy to wash. I’m not sure if you’ve smelled a hammock after it’s been slept on by a sweaty male that runs hot for a couple of months. It’s not pleasant.”
“Ah.”
I don’t quite know how to respond to him. It seems like we’re going to gloss over the fact that my entire body lit up in reaction to his touch. His hands weren’t even on my bare skin, for goodness’ sake, and yet my skin sang in response.
Because he’s your mate.
That’s another topic of conversation I don’t want to get to, that we’re going to have to tackle at some point. The unwanted mate bond that’s been forced upon him.
We reach his office, and he steps aside, gesturing for me to go first.
I glance up at him as I pass, hoping for a glimpse of his expression to see if he felt the same thing I did, but he looks entirely unmoved.
Does he know that?I hiss at Noush.Does he know that we’re mates?
He must do, right? But Finch has been... elsewhere ever since the bond formed. Not even inside his own body, so maybe he doesn’t know.
Which means this conversation is going to be even more awkward than I thought.
Stepping into his office, I’m aware this is the first time I’ve been in here without Torin’s buffering presence. Having Finch’s attention on me is always a dizzying, intense thing, and right now is no different. He takes a seat perched on the edge of his desk, gesturing for me to do the same with a lazy wave of his hand.
The only chair other than the one behind his desk is one right in front of him, which means I’m practically face-level with his crotch. Averting my eyes so I don’t make any unexpected eye contact, I’m staring at the floor and trying to formulate my thoughts when something tugs at my hair.
Glancing up with a frown, my reaction’s just quick enough to catch the tentacle sheepishly retreating to its position on Finch’s shoulder.
