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I did enjoy her bite.
“If you’re looking for more of my mouth, I’m afraid I can’t tonight. I’m watching the deck, you see.” I opened an arm and gestured to the empty ship, taking too much pleasure from the rush of blood to her cheeks.
“I wasn’t, I didn’t . . . gods, you’re an arrogant sod. I couldn’t sleep and needed some air. There were no thoughts of you.”
I laughed and leaned my elbows onto the rail again. “Not safe wandering on such a ship. Might stumble into the crew’s chambers and I’d never know. I’d never hear you scream.”
“Do you intentionally cause people to imagine the worst at all times?” Her shoulders rose and fell with sharper breaths. I studied her ritual, curious to learn more, and hating myself a little for it. When her pulse raced, Livia always clenched her fists, or her jaw, or she’d close her eyes. I waited and . . . there it was; she drew in a long, quiet breath through her nose.
I cupped the back of her neck, drawing her face close to mine. “Breathe, Songbird. You’re at no risk here. It’s only me tonight.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “And you are the problem.”
A thousand meanings laced her words. My gaze dropped to her soft lips. Thoughts of taking them again, tasting her, knotted in my gut. For a long, heated pause we attacked each other with our eyes, as if holding the stare the longest would peel back all the shields between us. When she grew too close to victory, I released her. “Go sleep. We’ll arrive by sunrise.”
“I can’t sleep,” she admitted with a touch of reluctance. “Sewell has swallowed a boar. It is the only way to account for why the man sounds the way he does.”
Before it could be stopped, a laugh rolled from my chest. “When his skull was broken, it wrecked his face. Something in his nose, I’m told.”
Her lips quirked with a reluctant grin. I tried to seehim, tried to see her as the enemy, but all I saw was her. The blue of her eyes under the sparse lanternlight gleamed like a raw cut sapphire. Every flame brought out a warmer shade in the dark curls of her hair.
Livia hugged her middle and stepped back. “I’ll just find somewhere else to sleep on this horrid ship.”
“I believe you mean magnificent.”
“This vessel”— she waved her hands about — “is the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen. What sort of ship has broken spikes everywhere, floorboards soft with rot, and those . . . fire weapons that will light the sails ablaze? A reckless choice, if I might say, for your prized monstrosity.”
“The wood is not rotten. It’s made from unique lumber in the royal city that is designed to give and bend to survive the Chasm. Quite expensive.”
“Ah, I’ve always loved a man who tries to impress me with his purse.” She arched a brow. “It’s usually compensating for other, lesser qualities.”
Her eyes danced down to my damn trousers.
“Oh, you speak dangerous words.” I leaned my face alongside hers, just enough to touch her cheek to mine. “But if you’re curious about my ship, or possibly other things, you need only ask.”
Her eyes bounced between mine. “I don’t want to know anything about your ship and certainly have no interest in anything else.”
“Ah.” I went to one of the ember spears and rested a hand on the sleek barrel. “So, you’ve no interest in how these work?”
She folded her arms over her chest, smug tension on her mouth. “A type of magic, I’m sure.”
“Not at all. The ember spears are designed entirely from resources in this kingdom.” She faltered. The barest glance of her eyes to the oil-glossed barrel gave her up. I opened the door where the cinders were loaded. “A lot of intricate mechanics, really. But I forgot, you’re not interested.”
Livia looked to the side, jaw tight, then huffed and stormed over to me. “Fine. Tell me. Better to know how something so dangerous works. I wouldn’t want to blow off my hand before you have a chance to cut off my fingers.”
“I take no joy in fingers,” I said, flicking my brows. “I prefer softer tissues. Eyes, tongues, bellies.”
“You’re a wretch.”
I merely shrugged. From a crate beneath the barrel, I removed a burlap pouch and showed her the contents. “The ember spears use these.”
“What are those? Crystals?”
“No,” I said, lifting one from the pouch. A soft, black sphere with red veins glowing as if flames were embedded within. “We call them cinder stones. Once used as a mere fire starter, but now we mine them for several uses. Hand me that bottle there.”
Livia licked her lips, but lifted the glass bottle beside the crate.
“Pour out a healthy dose right onto the cinder stone.”
