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Ilifttheglassto my lips, letting the fairy wine fill my mouth. My senses explode and I moan at the taste. It has a magical sweetness to it, swirling with hits of wild berries that give it a tart aftertaste. It’s heaven in a bottle—or in this case, a barrel.
“Told you it’d be good,” Smee says, but I’m already taking another sip, letting my eyes close, savoring the taste. “Come on. Let’s go find the boys.”
She leads me toward Sebastian, the elf—Nevlin—and Zephyr, but others I don’t know yet are with them at a round table. As we near, I eavesdrop, taking another sip of the fairy wine.
“Glad you didn’t die, Captain. Smee would make a horrendous leader,” the elf says, winking at Smee and flashing his teeth. The top of his tongue runs along the point of one of his incisors.
Smee punches him in the arm, making him grimace. “Keep it up. You’ll be sleeping on the deck.”
Still, it doesn’t stop Nelvin from pulling her into his lap. I stand awkwardly, not sure what to do with my hands or what to say, so I keep sipping. Sebastian chuckles, lifting from his seat to offer it to me. “Relax, Smee. He just doesn’t want to be floated.”
“Why do you call it that? Since I heard it earlier, I’ve been trying to figure that out.” I set my cup down on the table and start to lean back against the chair, only to realize it’s a stool and my shoulder blades meet Sebastian’s body. He stiffens for a moment but rests a hand on my shoulder.
Smee smirks, eyeing her brother while answering my question. “It’s what we do to blood witches when we throw them overboard. The ocean rejects them. They don’t sink. They float until some beast decides they’re dinner.”
I swallow hard. So Zelix was right. They do hate the blood witches, so much so that they turn them into fish food. Lifting my glass to my lips, I attempt to use the fairy wine to hide my shock. “How do you know if they’re a witch?”
“They rot,” Nelvin says, his voice angelic, every syllable perfectly executed. He holds a dark glint in his eyes. “Blood witches rot from inside out. It’s impossible to predict how much of a sacrifice they’ll need to cast their spells, so their bodies often have to pay the rest of the price. It starts with their teeth and eyes. Then, well, the whole hag transformation follows—”
Sebastian interrupts him, glaring over my shoulder. “We make sure, Scarlet. Always. We’ve never floated an innocent.”
From the crowd, someone bellows, “We float them ugly bitches, don’t we!” The crowd roars, but Sebastian sighs, drawing out a long exhale as if he’s had enough already.
I force a smile, though it feels more like a grimace. He doesn’t know I’m a witch, and I can’t help but wonder how he would react if he knew the truth. The laughter of the crew rings in my ears, their drunken words echoing like a taunt. Two days. I have two days to figure out how to hide it or to ensure no one sees it. Ever.
Sebastian’s hand squeezes my shoulder, his thumb drawing lazy circles. “Easy,” he whispers, having bent to put his mouth next to my ear. His voice is low and comforting. “You’re not one of them. You have nothing to worry about, and I’ll make sure you never have to see it.”
Zephyr’s fingers intertwine with the man’s next to him. A druid by the look of it, which makes my heart ease a bit. So, it’s only blood witches… Mages and druids are okay with them. They just don’t want those who use sacrificial magic.
His eyes meet mine and he gives a slight nod, silently letting me—or maybe Sebastian behind me—know he understands and changes the subject. “Soon, we’ll get your shadow back. You must be antsy now that we can look on the mainland.”
Shadow? I crane my neck, glancing at Sebastian. His jaw is set, and his eyes are narrowed at Zephyr. Apparently, that wasn’t the subject change he wanted.
“You don’t have your shadow? But I saw you control the darkness…” I whisper.
“They’re different. One’s an element and one is part of my soul.” His eyes never leave Zephyr. “Thanks for that.”
My mind races, but before I can ponder too much into it, Smee nudges my glass. “Drink. I think you’re going to need it.”
The fairy wine is unlike anything I’ve tasted and its warmth spreads through me instantly. After a few sips, the world seems a bit brighter, my senses heighten. As the pirates chit chat and I finish the glass, I’m very aware of the euphoric feeling that settles over me. The noises drift in and out, the room blurring in a way, yet focused in another.
Sebastian shakes his head as if he too is experiencing the same mind-fog. Reaching for my glass, he pushes it away from me. “That’s enough of that. Come on.” I take his hand and my head swims the moment my legs stretch, like a blood rush, or maybe it’s all left my head.
“Where are ya going?” The man holding Zephyr’s hand says, a crease forming between his brows.
“Taking my wife to her room.”
A flurry swarms through my stomach at the mention of Sebastian calling me his wife. It shouldn’t—I barely know him—but it does all the same.
“Not without a dance, you’re not. It’s a rite of passage when someone gets married. We even made Zephyr and Lorian do it.”
I notice the rings on their fingers. They’re married. Lifting my hand, I school my features before they can give away my thoughts. It’s not customary for a royal wedding to have rings. It’s a commoner thing, yet a part of me wants one.
“Fine, one.” Sebastian loops his arm around me, guiding me toward the group of pirates playing music. “Are you alright?” His bright green eyes search mine as he turns me toward him.
“I’m fantastic,” I lie. “I’ve never been drunk before, but I’ve seen others. My tongue doesn’t work. My feet are numb, and I can feel my face.”
He snorts out a laugh, dropping his head forward as he lines up our feet. His hand laces with one of mine and his other presses against my spine, smoothing down the curve of it until it presses to my lower back. When he lifts his head, his smile nearly stops my heart. It’s so genuine… and so much more significant than I realized.
