“Look, darling.”
I do, only to see the magic water’s lost its glow, slipping between my fingers as ordinary as anything. But my hand is not. In fact, the closer I look, this hand is not one I recognize at all. Every scar I bore—the jagged one along my pinky Aidan put there when trying to teach me how to fish, the calluses from my garden, the ragged ends of my nails I constantly chew to the pink. All of it is wiped clean, leaving soft, perfect skin.
I’m still staring when Faolan exhales, heavy and low, thencorks the bottle firmly. He pats my thigh twice in a sign to get up, and I do on legs as weak as a newborn fawn’s.
Then it’s just us. Alone, in the cabin, rumpled and breathless as we were only a few hours ago. The knot at Faolan’s throat bounces when he swallows, and I barely keep from reaching out to see how it feels beneath my newly healed skin.
A knock sounds at the door. “Captain? You’re needed on deck for questioning.”
Faolan weighs the bottle in his hand, eyes never leaving mine as he calls out, “Aye, we’re coming.”
We.As though it never crossed his mind that I wouldn’t be included. A shiver races up my spine. Slowly, Faolan steps past me to the bed, where he lifts the mattress and tucks the bottle back into its hiding space. I don’t move until he’s nearly reached the door.
“Faolan—”
“Best keep that secret between us, aye? My mother…” He clears his throat. “It was the only thing she gave me. Wouldn’t want to waste it.”
My head jerks in a nod. He grins.
“There’s a good girl.”
—
By the time we reach the deck, the husband who cradled me below has vanished. In his place is a man who looks every inch the Wolf of the Wild I’ve heard about for years.
“What have you got out of him so far?” His voice doesn’t waver, but neither does his smile. That’s what makes him so dangerous, I realize now—the charm and easy grins, the flirtation and stories. They all hide a cunning mind and a deadly bite.
“Nothing we don’t already know. Maccus sent him and the rest after her.” Tavin nods at me, and I falter a step—then almost slip in a pool of blood. Faolan’s quick to catch me by the waist, but even once I’m steady, he doesn’t let go.
“And why is that?” His eyes lock on the blond man, and I can see now that while one eye is untethered and useless, the other is as gray and cruel as before.
“What do you think happens when you steal someone else’s property, mate?” The words are awkward as they tumble through blistered lips, and I have to look away lest I lose whatever is left of my stomach.
“We’re properly wed. The entire crew bore witness—and my cousin—so whatever claim the Stone King thinks he has on her is done.” Faolan’s fingers tighten below my ribs. “Or does Ríona Kiara’s mark of amnesty mean nothing anymore?”
A strangled laugh escapes the blond. “Means less than you think, these days.”
The crew shifts around us, wood groaning beneath their boots as Faolan cocks his head to the side, jaw twitching once. “It means enough. But very well. We’ll leave the queen’s protection out of it.” He finally releases my waist to step close to the man. Close enough that I wonder if he’ll be smelling burned flesh for days to come.
“That woman is not property, nor did I steal her.” Seizing the blond’s shirt, Faolan drops his face a scant inch away and points back to me. “She is mywife. She rests undermyprotection. And you can tell tha’ son of a bitch Maccus if he wants a war with me, he’d damn well better prepare his funeral pyre.”
My ears ring with his words. I try to swallow. Fail.
It’s not real. I know that.
But Nessa steps to my right, bloody sword in hand, and Lorcan braces a strong hand between my shoulder blades. Like I’msomeone worth protecting. A treasure of their captain—no. The woad wolf at my wrist proves I’m one of the crew.
Just when I think Faolan is about to step back, he shoves his shoulder into the man’s chest and, with a grunt, tosses my assailant neatly overboard. It’s only then that I see the silver-painted ship drifting on the water beyond, half its sails engulfed in flame. Bodies bob along the waves in between.
“Even if tha’ bastard doesn’t survive the swim, Maccus will understand the message clear enough.” Faolan catches my hand on his way to the bow and I fall numbly into place. “Tavin, prepare to sail.”
My feet grow heavier with each step as disbelief replaces the awe until my insides swim with it. I wrap my free arm over my middle and watch the ground. Once we’re out of earshot, I can’t help saying the words aloud.
“This marriage isn’t even real, Faolan.”
I hate the words nearly as much as I hate myself for reminding him. His affection is intoxicating.
To my surprise, he rounds on me, walking until I’m forced to retreat. My back hits the nearest railing and his hands meet the wood on either side, trapping me between them.
