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)
I can’t even think of that.
“Captain?” Drakor says, standing over the iron gate.
I sigh. “Edrik, grab those bouldercrabs and bring them to Zephan, so he can put them in that stew I’m smelling.”
Edrik whelps as one grabs a chunk of skin under his arm and holds on.
“Grab ‘em by the feets, you maladek,” Petr says with a laugh. “You trying to get clawed?”
He can’t get it off, so Briallen follows him into the kitchen, carefully prying the sharp claws open. It’s going to leave a mark.
“Put the traps away,” I tell Drakor. “And the rest of you, grab the rest. We’re not staying here.”
Drakor looks relieved. He’s been terrified of the Sea Wraiths since we’ve been in these cold parts. I don’t think he’s slept one minute in four moons.
We heard them screeching in the distance last night, but they never found our ship. If we can collect our traps and get out of here before the sun sets, then we can keep it that way.
“Isen,” I shout as I walk under the crow’s nest. His old wrinkly head pops out and he gives me a big, toothless smile.
“Aye, Captain?”
“We’re bringing the traps in. Get them on it.”
He nods and disappears.
My heart starts racing as I head to my quarters. I’m always excited to see him. I don’t know why, but I just love staring at his calm, still face.
I’ve spent countless hours at his side, wondering his name, wondering what his voice sounds like, wondering how those warm hands would feel on my skin.
My crew must think I’m crazy. Falling for a shipwrecked wolf shifter… Captains have faced mutiny for less lunacy than that.
As I’m walking across the deck, Briallen appears at my side, handing me a cup of something hot she got from the kitchen.
“Thank you,” I say, breathing it in with a moan. Mint tea. It warms my insides and makes my mouth water.
“How is he?” she asks quietly.
I wrap both hands around the cup and look out at the water.
“The fever broke last night,” I say. “Finally.”
I was worried it would never end. He was thrashing around, sweating up a storm. At one point his skin was too hot to touch. I feared the worst.
But he fought his way through it.
She exhales. “Thank the gods.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
It was the scariest five days of my life.
It may not be over, I warn myself. He could fall back into a fever at any time and I need to prepare myself for it.
Zephan says his wolf is doing the healing. That shifters in bad enough shape will simply shut the world out and repair themselves from the inside, and the best thing I can do is keep him warm and let the process finish.
So that's what I've been doing.
Keeping him warm.
Talking to him even when he can't hear me.
Holding his hand even when he doesn't know it's there.
He’ll make it through. He has to.
I'm aware of how ridiculous I look. I'm aware that my crew is exchanging glances behind my back and doing a very poor job of pretending they're not. I'm aware that this makes no rational sense whatsoever.
I don't care even slightly.
“Calista,” Briallen says carefully. “When was the last time you slept? Properly, I mean.”
“I sleep.”
“In the chair beside your bed doesn't count.”
I sigh as a heaviness fills my body. It’s like finally saying it has made the fatigue appear.
“I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you sleep in my bed for a few hours?” she suggests.
She’s the only other female and has her own room. The rest of the men sleep in the bunks beside the cargo haul.
“I’m fine,” I repeat with a little more emphasis.
She tilts her head and gives me that look she’s been perfecting since she was twelve years old. I ignore it.
“Go check on the eastern traps,” I tell her. “It’s getting dark.”
“Yes, Captain,” she says sarcastically before leaving.
She goes.
I stand at the rail and drink my tea, watching the stars come out in the endless sky. I try to think about where to go now to fill my half-empty cargo hold, but as usual, my mind drifts back to the man in my bed and I can’t focus on anything else.
That night, when all the traps are on board, and I’m slumped on the chair, half asleep beside his bed, clutching his hand, he wakes.
I gasp as I sit up, watching him slowly blinking those eyes open.
There’s no fever. No delirium. No screams of pain.
He moans as he opens his eyes and turns his head, looking right at me.
I stare back at him in awe.
His eyes are green. As bright as my emerald sword and just as sharp. They’re fixated on me with an intensity that should be unsettling, but somehow isn’t.
“Welcome back,” I whisper.
He just stares at me in wonder. I feel a warm sensation tingling from my fingertips to my toes and everything in between.