Page 44 of The Stolen Crown

“By you?”

“Yes.” Tait held out his hands, cupped like a supplicant and filled with water. “While I was trying to save you, I decided to strike your skull with a wooden beam a few times.”

I almost laughed. He was such an ass.

“Drink some. While you laid around, I found a freshwater pond nearby.”

“Suffering a head wound does not call for insinuations of idleness.”

Tait’s mouth pinched. Without another word, he tipped his water-filled hands to my lips.

Crisp and cool, the water soothed the burn of my throat.

“Thank you.” I let my head fall back against the sand. “You are half naked.”

Tait adjusted on the sand, his arms resting over the tops of his knees. “It’s strategic. You go quiet when I am. I might simply forego a tunic altogether.”

“This is not the time to seduce me, Hearttalker.”

The strangest of things happened: Tait smiled—sort of. The corner of his mouth lifted when he gestured over his shoulder to the rod where our clothes hung. “When our clothes are dry, I’ll cover soon enough and protect your innocence.”

“I’m not a prude or anything. You’re just not appealing to the eyes.”

“I’ll pretend like I believe you.”

I pressed one palm to the ache in my skull. “Seeing as my dress is there, I assume you undressed me.”

“You assume correctly.”

“I do hope you found a sliver of honor and did not look.”

Tait’s eyes darkened. “Ah, Vicious. Honor is not one of my qualities.”

Good hells, the way he spoke was low, deep, like the grit of sand rattled in his throat. I knew he said such things to set me on edge, but the thought of Tait’s hands on me when I was not even bleeding awake to feel them was horridly unfair.

When I did not respond, Tait sighed and folded his arms over his chest.

“Hells, woman, I didn’t look”—his lips twitched—“for too long, at least.”

“You’re a fiend.” I peered around the small cavern. “What happened? What became of the ship?”

“Since we are no longer sailing, it’s safe to say we shipwrecked.” Tait tilted his head back to study the top of the cavern. “We are now somewhere in the Far Seas.”

“Not the Ever any longer?”

“The storm, or whatever that was, knocked us severely off course. I don’t know these waters.” Tait’s burning gaze locked back onto mine. “We’ll get to the Ever. I swear it.”

“You…you swear it?” I shot upright and regretted the way my head swirled in the next breath. “You don’t know where we are! We don’t have a ship! Gods, where is the crew?”

Each question made my voice grow shriller. My breaths came sharply, almost painful. I added my other palm to my forehead, pressing against the heavy ache.

I jolted when fingers tangled into my wet hair. Not exactly a gentle touch, but Tait tugged on the tresses, forcing my head to turn, forcing me to look at him.

“Listen to me. We will find the Ever.”

His voice was not kind, there was little affection in it, but something about the surety, the firmness, soothed my rising panic.

I swallowed. “All right. Did any of the crew make it here?”