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“Promise you won’t float me.” He darts his eyes away, and I chuckle humorously. “That’s what I thought.” My heart feels like it’s being squeezed as I realize that there’s no way to make him understand. “Just like everyone else... I can plead until my face turns blue, but it doesn’t matter. You’re always going to believe what you can see.”
I turn away from him and let the towel fall to the floor. “Go ahead, Captain. Convict me.”
Standing here, bare and vulnerable, I wait for him to make a move. But he just stands there, staring at me. My breathing comes in shallow gasps, and just as I’m about to turn around, warm hands gently scoop my hair out of the way, resting it over my shoulder. He remains silent, and I know he’s getting much more than he asked for. He’s realizing just how real his little nickname he’s stolen from Eva truly is.
His voice is barely above a whisper. “How did you get this?”
My heart races, knowing that whatever I say won’t change his mind. Sebastian and his crew have been tormented by blood witches for decades, watching them burn villages to the ground. There’s no accepting this for him, and I know that now. My voice is barely audible as I reply, “I’m not a blood witch. I’m a mage. I’ve never used sacrificial magic—”
“Enough!” he cuts me off, his voice stern and unyielding. “Don’t lie to me. The evidence is right here.” The words strike me like a physical blow, and I close my eyes, biting my lip to stifle its tremble. Straightening my shoulders, I say the only thing I can.
“I understand… I won’t blame you for floating me. Despite everything, I truly hope we can find each other in the next life,” I say, not bothering to hide the tears streaming down my face.
He doesn’t speak, his fingers still lingering over the mark on my back.
“Didn’t you hear me?” I say, whirling around to face him and finding him closer to me than I anticipated, putting my face an inch from his. Still, I stay the course. “Float. Me.” His intelligent green eyes toggle between mine as I stare at him, tears blurring my vision. “Do whatever you need to do to feel better. I never planned to live this long, anyway.”
Sebastian’s face softens for a moment, and he lifts a hand to brush my hair away from my face, swiping up my tears with his thumb. He stares at me, searching for something. “Why do you want to die so badly? Were you raised to be the lamb, or did something make you want to become one?”
I turn away from him, unwilling to answer his question. I don’t need his pity or judgment. He could see, plain as day, exactly what made me become one. As I stand there, exposed and vulnerable, I feel his fingers against my back again.
“Who did these?” he asks, tracing the raised lines around my mark—the ones that my mother didn’t give me. “Come on, Scars, at least tell me that.” His voice is calm, sweet even. But I can’t bring myself to answer him.
“Someone I loved, but sadly, he turned out to be a monster too,” I whisper, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. I don’t want him to see me like this, broken and defeated. I want to be strong, but now it feels impossible.
His hands slide down the length of my arms, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake, and his lips press to my shoulder, warming my skin with his breath. I don’t know what to do or what to say. I just stand here, frozen in time. Then he’s gone. Turning around, I catch him slipping out the door without another word.
23
Hook
Steppingoutofmyquarters, I find Zephyr waiting for me. He leans to the side, trying to peek past me, but he quickly averts his eyes.
“Tell me you didn’t,” Zephyr says, his tone disapproving.
Ignoring his question, I ask, “What’s the gauge on the crew?”
Zephyr sighs and falls into step with me. “They’re mixed. Most believe a blood witch is a blood witch and Scarlet shouldn’t be treated any differently. Smee, Nelvin, and Lorian are among them. Others, though far and few, say she has never been anything but kind to them, and they’re not sure where to stand.”
“And you?” I ask, my voice tense. “Where do you stand?”
Zephyr purses his lips, clearly struggling with his answer. “I think we need more information before I can truthfully say.”
Hearing what the others have to say about Scarlet makes my chest tighten. I care for her, more than I’d like to admit, but I know if my crew wants her gone, it’s a battle I can’t fight alone. I’m not sure I could fight it at all.
“Did you talk to her about the mark?”
I shake my head. “She won’t answer much, but she swears she’s not a blood witch.”
Zephyr runs a hand through his hair, inflating his cheeks with his exhale. “That’s tough… I think we have some truth tea left. We could give it to her, and force her to answer. She might never forgive you for it, though. But I don’t think you’d ever forgive yourself if you shoved her off the ship, only to find out she was telling the truth.”
As we cross the deck, Smee falls into step beside us, having overheard our conversation. “It’s illegal, even in Solaria, to mark someone as a blood witch without proof,” she adds with a scowl. “She’s lying.”
Pursing my lips, I shake my head. There’s only one way to put my mind at ease. It’s not foolproof, but it’s something. “Brew the tea.”
Smee rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath before addressing us more firmly. “We need to have a meeting when you’re done with your little interrogation. By then, I’ll know the extent of the damage to the ship and what’s fixable.”
Zephyr nods and sets off to prepare the tea, while Smee and I wait in tense silence. My mind races with possible outcomes, weighing the consequences of each decision.
