Logan
Sunlight pours over the deck of the Asteria, glinting off the sails. I watch the Artemis drift past, Alex waving from the upper deck before fading into the bright glare of the sun. I grip the railing, closing my eyes for a moment and taking a much needed breath that catches in my throat the second footsteps sound on the stairs nearby.
Sawyer grunts softly as he reaches the top of the steps and turns in my direction, squinting against the sun but smiling as he says, “You settled in?”
I nod, biting back that breath I desperately needed and all the other feelings threatening to make themselves known the next time I see Brie, which is hopefully several hours from now after I’ve had a chance to cool off.
“The Asteria’s the oldest and slowest,” Sawyer says under his breath, joining me at the railing. “But she’s a solid ship. A good girl. My favorite of the fleet, actually.”
“Why aren’t you captaining her, then?”
He grins and shrugs. “The same reason I’m not on the Artemis with Alex. I’m his Beta. If anything happens to him, I’m taking over the pack. He has no heirs yet as it stands, and… I can’t captain a ship in the event we start sinking because I can’t go down with it. That’s your job now.”
I smile to myself. “So you’re not just here to keep tabs on me, then?”
“Not exactly. Although I think Alex might be acting too cautious when it comes to you and Brie. You’re stuck here, and I don’t think either of you are dumb enough to try to breach the veil on your own.”
I glance over my shoulder at the men scurrying around the lower deck, climbing rat lines to adjust the sails. Just below where I’m standing, there’s an indoor cockpit. Unlike the yacht, it’s basic, with almost archaic engine control systems and no weather station at all. It’s easy enough to make this ship move, however.
I would know because my parents died on a ship exactly like this one.
“I gotta ask,” Sawyer says quietly, his hair pulled back away from his face. His dark skin shimmers in the sunlight as he turns to me, leaning his hip against the railing and crossing his arms. “How do you know how to sail? You’re not from here. What I know about Crescent Falls makes it sound like it’s mostly landlocked.”
“That’s true, but you know I’m not from Crescent Falls. I’m from–from Eastonia, technically. I was in the navy for a while.”
Sawyer nods but still looks unconvinced. I spent most of last night, after the kiss that might have ruined both of our lives, talking with Alex and Sawyer, as well as some of their higher ranking warriors, about Eastonia. I answered whatever questions they had about the history, about the downfall of the kings and the rise of Ella and her Firestone line that will soon rule.
I told them about the Deadlands and Tarsian, where I’d served under the crowns of what used to be the Three Alpha Kings… now whittled down to only one, seeing as Tarsian has fallen back to rebels. But their navy is the definition of elite, and joining their ranks gave me three years of experience in the same sea I washed up in seventeen years ago.
But with all of their technology and maps at my fingertips, I couldn’t even get close to Emberfyll. I have no idea where it is. Just like passing through the strait heading to Maatua, the sea beyond the shores of Tarsian and the southern Deadlands grows rough, damn near violent, before becoming unsailable altogether. Storms rage constantly. Winds from hell and rain so intense it could sink a ship make journeying more than fifty miles off the coast impossible.
A week ago, I didn’t care. I was buying a boat, for Goddess’ sake, planning on making the journey despite it being a death wish, knowing I’d never return and likely never land on the shores of Emberfyll.
But now I… I’ve started to question sailing into an inevitable death. I could have a life here–in Eastonia. I could lean into the love Aviva and Ryan offered me that I rejected at every turn because I didn’t want to hurt them when I eventually said goodbye. I could have a house instead of continuing to live in the barracks. I could have a warm bed, and long, lazy mornings spent tangled in the sheets with the same woman who’s likely raging in a stateroom below me right now.
It was easy enough to reject her. It was just a few words. I accept your rejection.
It was the worst thing I’ve ever said.
I hate that it took nearly dying to realize it. She deserves more.
“Logan?”
“Yeah,” I rasp, running a hand over my face. “Did you say something?”
Sawyer chuckles, “I asked about your experience on a ship like this, but you were somewhere else.”
“I didn’t sleep last night. Likely won’t tonight.” I lean on the railing.
Sawyer purses his lips and nods, apparently agreeing that for the next forty-eight hours, we’re tethered to the helm, sailing as fast as possible through endless, but so far calm, open water.
“KiloKilo has some high-tech boats in their armada. Cruisers and speedboats, mostly. Nothing like this, not anymore. Everything they use on the water is powered by the magic of the wizards on the main island, which is roughly three hundred miles from here. But still, their armada is everywhere–an infestation. We’re gonna see ‘em, soon, I think.”
“And what do we do when they make themselves known?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.
Sawyer shrugs, shaking his head with a sigh. “There’s nowhere to hide now, not until we reach the reef that protects Tempest Valley. So, we run, and we pray.”
I run my hand through my hair, narrowing my eyes at the endless waves. I got the full run-down on the Asteria this morning right after boarding the wooden ship. Brie had been there, standing stoically beside me in the cockpit while I inspected every dial and lever, and followed me through the ship's hull, her hands neatly tucked behind her back and her shoulders squared.
Ever regal, ever calm, ever collected, she didn’t make a sound. Her expression never cracked from the mask of cool indifference. Only when my inspection ended, and the trio of ships started off again, heading deeper into open water, did she close herself in our stateroom–the captain's quarters.
That was hours ago. I know she hasn’t eaten a damn thing today.
The worst part of this day had been her scent mingled with mine. I can’t think past what that felt like… what doing that to her made me feel like, and I… nearly just marked her and took back what’s mine. It’s been weighing on me all day.
I leave Sawyer on the deck with instructions to keep our course and speed. My legs feel heavy with a strange mingled sense of both extreme fatigue and a desperate, nearly overwhelming desire to shift.
It’s been over two weeks since I last ran free in my wolf form. It’s not good for anyone to go that long, especially after a rejection and several near death experiences.
I pause with my hand curled around the doorknob of the captain's quarters. There’s not much to be had in terms of food at this point, it seems. Some stale bread, fruit, and fried fish sit at the bottom of a basket I fetched before deciding to check on Brie after all this time. I did manage to snag a bottle of red wine from Alex before departing the Artemis, however. I know she prefers red over white.
I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. Every minute that has passed since the rejection has been torture, like deep in my soul I knew it was a mistake of my own making. Yet, I did it anyway.
Because I… care about her. I want to–to see her smile more than anything. A real smile–not the practiced regal smile of a diplomat. No, something genuine and sincere with me as the cause.
I already know I’ve changed my mind about Emberfyll but can’t admit to it yet. I feel it in my bones the second I open the door and find Brie perched by the windows overlooking the water, the sun casting her in a halo of light.
I would stay.
But even then, even if I gave up on what I believed to be my life’s purpose, Brie wouldn’t. That was painfully clear last night when I kissed her. She held back, even after returning the kiss. She held back yet leaned in, like it was practice, like she was looking for a taste of what romantic affection is supposed to feel like in anticipation of someone else.
That had been… my undoing, to say the least. The idea of her with anyone else makes me want to do unspeakable, violent things.
Brie looks up at me, sliding off the window seat with her hands woven together over her stomach. I set the food down on a table near the door and tuck my hands in my pockets.
“We’re moving again,” she says, “I can feel it.”
“We’re going to be sailing as fast as possible for the next… day or so. It might be bumpy. If you start feeling sick–”
“I don’t get seasick,” she cuts in, her voice low. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll stay here the whole time. I have no reason to be out and about.”
“While I appreciate your sudden submissiveness,” I reply with a hint of skepticism, “I would like for you to be on the deck.” I meet her eyes. In the sunlight, they glimmer like her irises are inlaid with flakes of gold. “As much as possible, actually.”
“Why?” she asks lightly, smirking, which… makes me stiffen defensively.
I’m not in the right mind. I need to shift to clear my head. I can feel my wolf clawing at the barrier that separates me from that form. This back and forth between us since the day we met has to stop, or I’m going to lose control, I know that much. I’m teetering on the edge of saying fuck it, fucking her, marking her, and dragging her to Emberfyll with me knowing we might not survive the journey… and if we did, that she’d never see her family again.
“You need fresh air. Sunlight.” I wave a hand toward the window. “Sitting behind that glass doesn’t count.”
“You’re always so concerned about me when you don’t need to be,” she remarks with a huff, turning and pacing toward the far side of the room where a door opens to the bedroom… with a four-poster bed nailed down to the floor. Just one bed, of course.
And there are no couches on the Asteria. I checked.
“Eat something, and come up to the deck when you’re done.” I turn for the door before I do something I’ll regret.
“How did you learn how to–” She cuts herself off abruptly, turning a bright pink.
I glance at her over my shoulder before turning to face her, leaning my back against the door. “Scenting?”
“Yeah, that.” She leans on the bedroom door. The distance between us–the space of the entire room–doesn’t feel like enough.
I could light a match, and the tension in the room would erupt into flame.
“I can read, Brie.”
She rolls her eyes, but her mouth twitches into a smile. “You never know with warriors.”
Now, I’m fighting a smile. “Aviva’s people–the tribes–it’s a custom of theirs. They don’t mark their mates until after they’re married at the harvest festival, but sometimes that’s months away. They would do that ritual if mates were separated between tribes until the festival… so their scents mingled, warding off other suitors.” I clear my throat, my gaze honed on the way her blush creeps down her neck.
We had it out about the kiss. I was an asshole, I know. That’s the only part of it I regret.
Brie’s lips part like she’s about to say something but thinks better of it. I have to dig in my heels to stop from asking her if she still plans to hunt for and marry an Alpha after everything that happened to us, if the shipwreck didn’t flip a switch in her brain that finally made her start to think rationally, maybe even selfishly, telling her it’s okay to have wants and desires that only benefit her and not her sister.
“I can’t be down here for much longer,” I tell her. “I can’t mind-link with Alex and Sawyer. I need to stay in the cockpit or at least on the deck.”
“What about sleep?”
“I don’t need it. We’ll be in Tempest Valley in two days. I’ll be fine until then.”
“You didn’t sleep last night.” She holds my gaze with an accusatory glint in her eyes. She’s right. I left after the kiss.
“I didn’t trust myself to stay in here with you.” My words hang in the air between us. I watch her take a breath–watch the way her chest rises, pauses, then falls.
The column of her throat bobs as she swallows–hard. And that blush… deepens.
Her reaction is enough to make me curl my hands into fists to stop from stalking across the room and kissing her again.
“You–you didn’t have to kiss me to prove whatever point you were trying to make,” she hisses.
“You acted like you enjoyed it.”
“What I enjoy,” she says, breathless, “is being your friend.”
It’s like a knife to my heart. It’s the confirmation I needed to know that this… feeling… it’s more than just want. It’s more than what the mate bond could have ever offered us.
I am fucked.
“I can’t be your friend, Brie.”