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“Why? I’m your wife. That’s what married people do,” she stammers. I turn around, running my hands through my hair. Her eyes search mine. “I’m your wife.”
“You’re also my prisoner,” I remind her. “You may be my wife and legally share my last name, but I have no intentions of falling in love with a witch. No matter how deliciously tempting she may be.”
Her eyes fill with hurt, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to reach out and comfort her. Instead, I force myself to open the door.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “It has to be this way... at least for now.” With those final words, I step out into the hallway, leaving her behind.
As I close the door, I nearly collide with Nelvin, who’s shirtless, pants-less, and nursing a drink in his hand. His eyes narrow, then stretch wide as he glances from the door to me, taking in the fact I’ve yet to put my shirt on. It’s still in my hand. “Did you just come from...” he trails off, pointing toward Scarlet’s door.
“Keep your mouth shut,” I warn, my voice low and dangerous, using the skeleton key to lock the door. Without waiting for a response, I step into a shadow, disappearing from his sight.
27
Scarlet
Whatjusthappened?Iknew Sebastian could vaguely feel my emotions. It’s how the blood bond works. I knew he could sense my unease, or my longing, my fear, but I was trying so hard to keep my mind blank.
That book was the only thing Smee left behind and I picked it up, thinking that getting lost in some adventure or story would help keep my mind off Sebastian, not summon him involuntarily. I wanted to forget all the things happening in the real world, to pretend for just an inkling of time that it wasn’t crashing down around me. But what I found between those pages… Let’s just say I’ve never read something like that before.
Romance books aren’t foreign to me, and I read a little of everything. Almost all genres have a place in my heart and a time in which I crave them, but never in all my years have I read something like that... I could feel everything the character did like I was living inside those pages. And if I’m honest, it hit a bit too close to home, with the protagonist being a siren princess and her love interest being a ship captain. What are the odds of that?
I’m starting to think Smee left it behind to torture me. At first, I thought it might’ve been her way of showing sympathy, giving me something to read to pass the time, but now… I’m not so sure. I can vividly picture the way her face twisted in disgust when she discovered my mark like I was the most wretched thing she ever laid eyes on. It hurt… Out of everyone on that deck, she and her brother were the only two people I prayed would look past it. They knew me better than anyone else, but it wasn’t enough.
I’d started to think of Smee as a friend. Spending time with her in the storage bay was the closest I’ve come to a friend since Amara joined the Bekorium Order. Sure, we still had our secret notes, but I miss having someone to confide in and talk to, or simply just be around. Smee started to be that for me, even if that time was just a blip in our lives.
Maybe this was Smee’s way of torturing me. She can’t hurt me physically without disobeying her brother, but leaving this book here, knowing I was coming back to this room? She picked it specifically because it would pull my heartstrings. I just don’t think she understands how deep my blood oath with Sebastian runs, and that it wasn’t just me she was getting at, but him, too.
Hell, I didn’t even know. Not until he barged in here. I knew he could feel things to an extent, but I thought it was more of an intuitive sort of thing, not that he’d literally feel everything I do. That my lust from reading would transfer to him.
By the gods, the man looked ready to commit murder when he stepped into this room. The sight stirred something within me. Those stone-cold, green eyes sought out mine and blazed, and a dark part of me enjoyed it. It wanted to see just how far he’d go. Especially after I figured out that it was my thoughts that got him so worked up.
He’d been so... I’m not even sure there’s a word to describe it. Unruly, maybe? His shirt was untucked, nearly unbuttoned halfway. His hair looked like his fingers had run through it countless times. I could smell the sweet, fruity scent of fairy wine that surrounded him and gods... I’ll never get enough of it, especially mixed with everything masculine about him... It’s a contradiction that could stop hearts.
Above all else, it was the way he looked at me, his gaze so intense—so predatory—it left me breathless and sent a thrill racing down my spine. I never intended to make Sebastian feel like that, so fierce and out of control. Yet, seeing him so made it that much harder to turn my thoughts away from it, my body responded to him without conscious decision.
None of that matters now, though... What I took as him giving in to his heart was truly him just wanting the urges to end.
He took something so sacred and sentimental and made it into nothing, like he couldn’t care less about how I felt--Like I meant nothing to him. It was transactional and I hate him for it. At least I want to hate him for it.
He’s been gone for over an hour and the weight of his words still weighs heavily on my heart. The sting of betrayal is still fresh, the sensation of his touch still haunting my skin.
The soft glow of the lanterns hanging on the wall sends a flicker of shadows around the room, and though I’m alone, each one of them makes me think of him. A naïve piece of me is waiting for him to step out of one, to tell me he’s sorry, that he didn’t mean it. That he was wrong, but that’ll never happen. It makes my teeth grit and tears sting my eyes, making my vision blur.
I hate that no matter how furious I am at Sebastian, I can’t blame him for this. At least not all of it. If the roles were reversed, I’d never sleep with someone and break their heart, but I’d be just as cautious as he is. There would be too much riding on my decision. Being wrong endangers dozens of lives in his charge, and I can respect him caring about his men enough to put his own wants aside to protect them. But he crossed a line... I wanted him; I wanted everything we did, but he shouldn’t have touched me if he was going to follow it up by saying he could never truly love or care about someone like me.
I touch my fingers to my lips, still raw and bruised, and trembling with unshed tears. It felt like he struck me with more than just words, that a wound opened in my chest, that refuses to heal.
Even then, if it was just me misunderstanding, or being naïve... If I could tell myself I’d been played that it was all an act on his end or some cruel game, I’d be able to wrap my mind around it right now. I’d know I messed up and trusted the wrong person. I’d build a wall and swear to never go there again. But I can’t even do that.
My hand grips into the pillow beside me and I launch it with everything I have at the wall, growling out a string of curses.
Every time I close my eyes, I see him... I see the way he looks at me and I can feel it in my soul that what he said is a lie. But how can I believe that when I watched him walk out that door with my own eyes?
How can someone be so sweet, so gentle, so loving, one moment, then switch like they’ve become lucid and be the exact opposite? He’s so confusing and complicated, and I don’t know if I want to keep trying to figure him out. Not when it hurts like this.
Fury burns through my insides, knotting every muscle until my hands clench, biting crescent shapes into the palms of my hands. I sit up, dragging my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
I will not cry for this man. Not anymore. If all he’ll see me for is a witch, then maybe it’s about fucking time I start acting like one. I’ll get off this ship. I’ll find somewhere quiet to live out my life, but I sure as hell don’t need him to do it.
