Page 149 of Crown of the Courtesan

With a feral roar, Rett rushes toward him, a hulking mass of muscles under his leather tunic. “Give me a sword, and we’ll sort this out now. Man to man.”

I quickly wedge myself between them. Ashland presses against my back, breathing hard through his nostrils, but I warn him, “Don’t.”

“You promised to become my wife,” Rett yells so hard that he spits in my face, his tusks pointed at me as his mouth gapes open. “Make it right.”

Before I can react, Ashland snatches my elbow and pulls me behind him. “Control yourself, or gagging you will become the least of your concerns once I chain you to the mast and leave your flesh for the ravens.”

Ashland’s words fall on deaf ears as Rett looks down at his arm, no longer paying him any attention. Groaning, Rett rocks on the balls of his feet. The lines unfurling from his ring finger have grown to consume every inch of his hand, front and back, with no green skin visible anymore. Rett yowls, tugging the ring on his finger, but it won’t come off.

I’m frozen with panic as I watch the crimson lines glow and multiply past his elbow, crawling up his arm.

“Rett—” I call out.

Hunched and writhing, he doubles over. I shouldn’t have allowed it to get this far.

“Make it stop!” Rett explodes, pulling at his hair while the veins pop in his temples, and blood vessels burst in the whites of his eyes.

“Please!” I beg, searching for mercy from Ashland’s cold face. “Please, help him!” Tears fill my eyes, overflowing immediately.

“There’s nothing to be done without a witch-healer,” Ashland says through gritted teeth. “Look where we are!” The cerulean ocean surrounds us on all sides, rocking the ship back and forth.

Rett froths at the mouth, giant strings of saliva hanging down as he violently punches and claws at his cursed arm. One of the crew members tries to restrain him, but Rett nearly throws him overboard, causing the other sailors to spread out as they watch in horror.

I clutch at Valora, sobs racking my body. “You told me there’s always a way⁠—”

Rett’s agony drowns out my voice. He rips his tunic off, beating his chest with abusive slams.

I cover my mouth as acid rises in my throat. His entire arm and shoulder turn crimson, the lines swirling up the pillar of his broad neck.

A fresh burning under my own skin makes me examine my hand. The crimson lines are also spreading up my wrist, making my heart hammer with every shooting sensation of pain.

Rett unsheathes a massive dagger from his belt. Before I know what’s happening, he hacks wildly at his elbow joint.

Valora holds me back as I shriek, “Stop! Please, stop!”

But his eyes are deranged and unaffected. He mangles his forearm, splattering blood and sinew across the deck, but the bone prevents him from cutting all the way through. Instead, chunks of flesh hang off his arm.

Sobbing, I beg anyone—anyone—to intervene. There’s pandemonium while the life pours from Rett, his face draining of color, his body going limp as he stumbles around.

A tall, cloaked figure pushes through the gathered crowd.

Captain Lir appears.

The sun shines behind his sandy-brown hair, casting his freckled features into shadow, his sightless eyes fixed ahead.

A sob chokes in my throat as I realize it’s him. The captain who held me every year on the day of the Bidding Ceremony. The man who was too good for me, and so I set him free.

I’m not imagining it.

“Don’t move,” he orders, his tight mouth setting into determined resolve, “or it’ll be your neck.” He draws his cutlass from the lopsided belt at his side, and in one swift motion, he slashes his blade down, severing Rett’s arm at the elbow.

The swirling lines disappear from Rett’s slumped chest.

My eyes snap down to study my own hand, but the curse remains—pulsing angrily and creeping further across my skin.

A wet sound attracts my attention upward. I stare mutely at Rett’s severed limb, his blood trickling down the deck, soaking and turning the hem of my gown the deepest of crimsons to match the lines on my hand.

Valora hands me to Ashland, who tries to support my crumpling body, but I push him away, running and burying my face into Lir’s chest. He grunts from the impact, but he breathes in my scent from the top of my head, his voice catching in his throat with recognition. Those familiar arms wrap around me as I sob.