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“You can trust that I don’t want to drown with my hands tied to your mast.”
“Please,” I call. I think of the moment in the darkened hallway, when he was going to kill Rocco. Gwyn was urging him to do it, but then he didn’t.
Because I asked.
Corrick was right: I do have the captain’s ear. “Please, Rian,” I beg. “Think of your crew.”
He stares back at me, his stormy eyes full. “I always think of my crew.” He sighs tightly, then unhooks his fingers from the rigging. He draws a dagger from his belt.
I don’t know what that means, whether he’s going to untie Corrick or something else.
I don’t get the chance to ask. A loud crack echoes across the sea, just as Marchon leaps down to the deck. “Cannonball!” he shouts.
Just as the ball of black steel slams right into him, driving the man straight through the deck in an explosion of blood and splintered wood.
I’m staring, aghast, when Bella starts laughing hysterically.
“Oh, Rian,” she says between bursts of laughter. “I think this is going to be even better than what my father would have planned.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Corrick
Noise is everywhere at once, the crew shouting, people screaming, cannons booming. I watched Marchon get driven through the deck, torn apart by splintering wood, and the scent of blood and smoke in the air churns my stomach. It’s the most horrific thing I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something.
“Rian!” I shout. “Rian, cut us loose!”
He doesn’t answer. No one answers.
“Tessa!” I call.
Nothing. So many people are shouting conflicting orders that I can’t hear my own thoughts. All the while, Bella is laughing hysterically. The ship dips and sways, water splashing over the edge.
I swear I see one of the crewmen go over the railing.
Maybe these bindings aren’t bad after all.
But then I see Lochlan come up from below, crawling along the deck. The ship is rocking so forcefully that he can’t stay on his feet. Another cannonball comes screaming through the air, and men cryout—but this one smashes through the railing to land in the water below.
Lochlan keeps crawling across the deck. His jaw is tight, his face a mask of determination. His eyes look up and meet mine.
And then I realize he has a dagger in one hand.
My chest clenches tight. I’m lashed to the mast. A sitting duck.
I hold my breath. The ship pitches wildly in the current, but he stays low to the deck and keeps crawling.
“Rocco,” I say. “Thank you for your service.”
He looks over sharply, then follows my gaze to look at Lochlan, who’s gained ground.
Another cannonball flies overhead, and for an instant, the shouting crew goes silent. Then it soars between the masts, narrowly missing the sails.
“Tessa,” I shout, but there’s no answer again. I have no idea whether she can hear me. I yell anyway. “I love you.”
Lochlan has reached me, and he grabs hold of my shirt, dragging himself to his knees. The wind whips his hair around his face, and light glints on that dagger.
The entire ship is probably going to sink, but my life is going to end right here. I can see the hatred in his eyes.
