Page 37

“Oh,” Freckles squeaks, and I can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out of me.

“Damn, you’re fucked when Ren finds out,” Tracker warns, sitting down with his guitar. He pours himself a drink and removes my glass from me. “No more for you, darling.”

I frown at him. “You’re boring”—my pout doesn’t last long because I like smiling—“but you’re cute, so it’s fine.”

“Please don’t repeat that around the captain,” he mutters before taking a long drink and playing a fast tune on his guitar.

Wyatt has his hand out for me. “Miry, come and dance with me. We used to dance all the time when we got a chance. Please.” I giggle, taking his hand, and he spins me around. We both look back at Freckles. “Come and dance with us!”

Freckles downs her drink and jumps up, climbing across the table and joining us. I don’t know how long we dance in circles, but I spin around and around, feeling as light as a feather. I wonder if I can fly? No, that’s silly. Or is it?

“You know, I like your freckles,” Wyatt is saying, spinning me at the same time as Freckles. “You’re softhearted too. A rare personality.” Then he nods at me. “Not like Miry.”

“And why is that something I can’t be?” I frown, my lips pouting again.

“Well, you’re too stronghearted to be soft. You take everything personally and react accordingly. But that’s good, or you wouldn’t be here doing this.” Wyatt laughs, but he is right. I don’t care, but he knows me. I hiccup. “You’re tough.”

“What’s my downfall, then? Being emotionally responsive to people isn’t a weakness.” Freckles argues, staring at him. She isn’t dancing anymore. Oh, well. I spin around on my own, seeing Wyatt cupping her face with his hands.

“That most will never like you because being softhearted in a broken world is a strength that the brutal will never understand and always hate.” He taps her nose. “But you are kind and that isn’t a bad thing.”

Freckles nods, and she leaves with a strange look on her face. We both call her back, but she doesn’t stop. “You think my weakness is being tough?” I ask, hiccuping, pushing at Wyatt’s chest. I pick the bottle up off the table and down it as I come back, hearing Tracker swearing under his breath over the music.

“Your weakness, other than falling for my charm…” He grins, taking the bottle from me and drinking the last bit. “Is being naive to that captain, and you can’t see he is using you, and he is not your friend or anything more. I like that you’re tough. It’s the reason you attract attention, more than just your looks alone. Although, the good diet here and exercise has filled out your body, and I must say, healthy looks very, very good on you.”

“He’s not using me.” I chuckle, pulling the bottle off him. Oh, it’s empty. No! “He is…well, Ren.”

“Yes, he is.” He leans up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

There’s a low growl in the air before Ren stomps over between us, taking the bottle out of my hand and holding it above me as I try to jump for it. Shadows dance at our feet and I laugh, running my hand through them. Ren swears, tipping my chin up to look at his face, but his eyes drop. He looks at my black top. “Are you wearing my shirt—” He pauses. “You know, it doesn’t matter. What are you all doing? You realize we are being hunted by the king, this ship could be found any second, and you’re here getting drunk?” He snarls at Tracker, “Did you give the mortals ambrosia, for fuck’s sake?”

“No, Freckles did and forgot they are mortal,” Tracker grumbles. “I was babysitting until you found her.”

I hiccup again. “His weakness is that he is grumpy.” I poke Ren’s chest. He looks at me with nothing but exasperation, and it makes me giggle. “We are talking about weaknesses. Wyatt says mine is being tough and clueless to you. Freckles is softhearted. I think Tracker’s is being slightly oblivious. But yours is that you are Mr. Grumpy.” I tap him on the nose. “Chaos’s is that people were mean to him, so he is mean to everyone else.”

He frowns at me. “Noctaris help me. You need water.” He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, and the world spins for a moment.

“Hey, wait, we’re not done, we’re having fun!” Wyatt shouts after me, but Ren doesn’t stop, and he carries me to his room, throwing me on his comfy bed.

I stretch out like Limi. “I hate this bed because it’s so soft and smells nice! How am I going to go back to my straw bed with lumps after this? You ruined me, grumpy.”

He pours me a drink of water and comes back. “Drink the whole glass and stop talking.”

“No,” I say, sitting up and crossing my arms. “You can’t make me.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” He leans down, his pretty eyes so close. He is so pretty everywhere, and I want to lean forward and taste him. I climb off the bed, brushing away his hand with the water, which spills onto his top.

He mumbles something I can’t hear as I skip to my bag I hid behind the dresser and tug it out. I find the book and hold it in the air. “When we went to that stupid island with those girls that were obsessed with you”—a grunt of disgust escapes me—“who you definitely slept with,” I say, shaking my head, “and I don’t like that…wait, what was I saying?”

“I need to throw all the ambrosia off the ship,” Ren mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Oh, I remember. The book. “I bought you this because I recognized you were missing it from all the others. The man didn’t believe me that you had a collection of them. He said that they’re too old for a collection.” I push the book into his chest, and he touches it.

“You got me a gift.” He sits down on the bed and frowns at the book like it’s an enemy.

“Yes,” I drawl, kicking his leg. “You say thank you for a gift. It’s rude otherwise.”

“Why?” he asks, looking up at me. I step closer, into the space between his thighs. He rests the book on the bed, putting his hands on his knees, his fingers clenched tight.