Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
“He looks dead, Captain,” Edrik says, squinting. “His head is lolled back and his eyes are closed.”
“Prolly a wolf shifter,” Petr says, spitting overboard. “This here is dem parts.”
“Let’s pick him up and kill him,” Valther says, grinning.
“We’re not doing that,” I snap. The humans and the wolves have a treaty. I’m not about to break two centuries of peace for a half-dead floater.
“Lower the skiff,” I order.
Valther turns to me in disbelief. “For a fucking wolf? Let the fucker drown.”
I step up to him, getting right in his face. He’s about a foot taller than me and probably about double my size, but I don’t care.
“The skiff,” I snap, standing on my toes. “Now.”
He takes a deep breath and lowers his gaze. “Aye, Captain.”
“And for the insolence,” I say, “you get to paddle.”
“Aye, Captain,” he grunts.
I point at Drakor and Petr. “What are you two gaping at? Go help him!”
They rush to unload the skiff while I hurry back to the edge, keeping my eyes on the floating man as we drift closer. He’s out of it. He may be dead already.
A small spark in my gut hopes that’s not the case. I can’t take my eyes off him. He seems to be naked and his arm looks pinned to the crook of a branch, his shoulder twisted in an unnatural position.
“I’m coming,” I whisper to him.
“Skiff is ready, Captain!” Valther bellows.
I take one last look at him and hurry to the rowboat.
Chapter Three
Calista
The skiff cuts through the cold mist as it glides along the calm ocean. The only sound is the steady rhythm of Valther's paddles breaking the surface.
My heart is beating frantically. I keep my eyes locked on the dark mass bobbing in the light waves, terrified I’m going to lose sight of him. The sun has fully set and the moon is nothing but a sliver over our heads, barely lighting our way.
“Be careful, Captain!” Edrik shouts from the ship behind us.
I’m not worried about myself right now, only the figure in the water. I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m staring at him, completely enthralled. Like my heart will stop if I can’t get to him in time.
It’s the strangest feeling and it gets stronger with every inch we get closer to the man. It feels as if I’ve been heading toward this exact moment my whole life. Like I just found something I didn’t know I’d lost.
My whole body is on edge with impatience as we glide closer.
“Hurry,” I snap at Valther. “Put some strength into it, man.”
He picks up the pace, paddling harder. It doesn’t do anything to stem the need to get to him.
Something’s up…
This is not normal.
I’ve spent my whole life surrounded by men and not one of them has ever made me feel a pull like this. So why is this man, half-dead and unconscious, pulling these sudden, intense feelings out of me?
It may be a trap.
I’ve heard all of the old stories. Every sailor has. The hungry sirens of the deep who call to you in the dark—urging you forward with a feeling of irresistible need and promises of overwhelming beauty—and by the time you understand what’s happening, you're already in the water with something cold and ancient’s hands around your throat.
This could be that. A hungry siren playing games with my mind, tricking me with an irresistible allure and feelings of inevitability.
It may be something dangerous.
But I’m going anyway. That’s how strong the pull is. That’s how powerful it’s seizing my soul.
I can’t imagine turning around right now. I can’t even think about leaving him on the open sea. I’ll take my chances that I’ll be pulled into the dark waters and devoured by a siren. At least, I’ll have this warm, wonderful feeling to keep me content in my final seconds.
A gentle wave turns him just a little as we get closer and I suck in a breath when I see his still face. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The sight of it stuns me to my core.
I’ve navigated violent storms that have made grown men weep and call for their mothers. I’ve jumped between giant livid men—knives in their hands, mead on their breaths—and stopped them from killing each other. I’ve faced down bloodthirsty Sea Wraiths in the dark with nothing but my emerald sword in my hand and an unbreakable fierceness in my heart.
I’ve done all that… And I’ve never felt so helpless as I do right now, looking at this man’s still face.
I want to save him. I want to put myself between him and whoever did this to him. I want to hold him until the cold leaves his body and his eyes slowly open. I want it so badly it frightens me.
“His shoulder is mangled,” Valther says. I’m so focused on the man in the water that I forgot he was behind me. I nearly jump out of my skin, I’m so startled.