I’m rewarded with her laugh. A real laugh—not the snort she gives everyone else who tries to cheer her up. Her laugh isn’t the giggle Sabrina has, either. It’s throaty, husky, and involves her whole body as she vibrates hard enough to send her hair flying. I’m dazzled by the lightning that flashes in her eyes and the little pink tongue between her pearly, white teeth. They are slightly pointed for a human, but perfect for someone born a kraken.
“Cannons secured and snipers in the ratlines, Captain,” Eze says as he jogs up the stairs. He frowns at me but continues to debrief Betts. “What are our orders?”
“Man your stations as if it’s a normal night. Day crew can sit quietly below deck, except for those with the long rifles in the rigging. They must look like regular climbers, manning the sails. Night watch too. They must be ready to help me turn the boat in a hurry.”
“The extra mateys in the ratlines will make turning this ship easier than the girls turning tricks at Maude’s tavern. Don’t worry, we’ve got this,” he replies with a sarcastic salute that makes Betts snort.
Not a belly laugh to release her emotions—a snort for polite company.
After he leaves, Betts is back to Captain Betts. Her posture is stiff. White knuckles hold the wheel where she’d hung limply before our interruption. I missed my opportunity to ask if she’s still a kraken, but I hold her adulterous secret to my chest like a prized jewel. I’m relieved the ire between us has nothing to do with me.
“I guess you didn’t help me escape my stormy bath because of some revenge plot against the pastor?” She gives me a guilty grin before shaking it off her face.
“I didn’t help you, because I had a decision to make,” she says with a deep breath that blows the hair on her forehead into the wind. “Flint, your father lied. You aren’t aboard to be an apprentice. He hired us to—”
“Krakens! Kraken attack!” Greenhorn yells the signal from the Crow’s Nest.
“Flint, use your sleeve to block the lantern’s light and then lower it to let the light flash. I think the other boat is sending a distress signal,” Betts commands as she spins the wheel to port.
“Port aweigh!” Her yell is repeated along the ratlines as the sails turn. The boat lists hard to the side with the swift change in direction. My body is flung onto the railing, which punches me in the gut. I lift my jacket so the broad panel blocks the light of the lantern, then lower it in short bursts.
“The other boat is responding,” I shout while repeating my cadence of flashes and blocks. Sure enough, the prize responds with the same rhythm. “She’s calling to us.”
“Her biggest mistake yet,” Betts says with a wiggle of her eyebrows. Her feet are planted wider than her shoulders as she struggles to maintain the boat’s tight turn despite the listing. If she falls, the wheel will spin. Will we capsize?
Bettina’s so small and fragile—barely taller than the wheel itself. Why isn’t anyone helping her? Is everyone too busy to see her struggle? Is that by her design? Well, not while I’m here. Something inside me shifts, and I’m at her back as the next wave bats the hull.
“I’m not taking this from you,” I whisper in her ear as she stiffens between me and the helm. “Tell me what to do. Let me give you my strength.”
“Hold me steady,” she says through clenched jaws. Nothold the boat. Not holdhersteady. Holdme. The difference isn’t lost on me. When was the last time someone held her? If her last embrace came from the pastor, it doesn’t count, because his fake embrace tore her apart.
“Brace yourself and throw your arse to stern!” Chub’s yell from the cannon galley pulls a gasp from Betts’s lips. He’s hoping everyone leaning in the opposite direction will save us.
My hooves rub her leather boots as I frame her. I hold the wheel at waist height to cage her in place. Her soft curves fit perfectly against my body as my heat warms her. Red hair tangles in my horns, tying us together. I hold my breath as the planks groan, the sails glide over us, and the water splashes over the sides.
The crew cheers when the boat rights itself, facing the boat in distress. I’m silent as I breathe in the scent of the sea on her skin. My eyes close as images of us float through my head. Her breathing calms to match mine. Our heartbeats align. My hands creep upward on the wheel in hopes of touching hers.
“Don’t move,” she whispers. “The boat is fine, but I still need this—just a few more seconds.”
“Bettina, a pack of rabid husbands couldn’t remove me from your side.”
11
Just Betts
What’s one more woman who uses his comfort? At least my clothes stayed on, right? I hate to add my name to his list of conquests, but I need to feel less alone right now. It’s my first battle as Captain, and I’m terrified. I’ve no marriage or sacred hold on my virginity to add to his collection. If I were like Sabrina, I’d take what he offered and then some. She didn’t ruin herself before she found Teeth. He saw her as an exotic, sexual creature that he had to love…despite the number of men she’d pleasured. Is Teeth the only man—kraken now—who wouldn’t judge a woman for taking what a man offers?
Why is the woman the strumpet and the man just fulfilling his needs?
A question I must ponder or ask Sabrina when our lives don’t hang in the balance. Looking at the philosophical paradox is easier than admitting I judged Hybris before meeting him, and I shouldn’t have taken the contract with his father. Even those sour thoughts are better than the one floating at the root of it all: Can he give me the happiness my sister found, or am I replacing her with Hybris because his wild ways remind me of her? On a boat full of men of every color, creed, and species—why am I attracted to him?
Yeah, definitely not the right time to tackle that one.
“Teeth and Sabs are doing a number on that boat,” Hybris whispers in my ear. “Do you think it will sail after we leave?”
“I can’t think about that, or I’ll compromise our crew. Their safety belongs to their captain. I must put us first. If we take the birds aboard, we’ll offer a place on our crew to any who wish to defect.” My answer is vague, but it’s all I’ve got when my thoughts buzz in my head like a hive of bees. I’m grateful he’s focused on the mission and leading me to safer thoughts, because his presence at my back is maddening. As much as I need him to back up so I can concentrate, I crave his strength more.
“Sail ho! Sail ho!” The men in the rigging call out the warning of another ship as if this were the first time they spotted the prize in distress. It adds to the illusion that we didn’t plan our meeting days ago.
