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“You think so?” I say, giving the cat a bit of a smile. Once upon a time I could communicate with all the creatures that lived under the sea.

Which does make me pause.

What if I still could?

“Mew,” the cat says and seems to nod.

I am most definitely imagining that.

“Can you understand me?” I ask it, my voice barely a whisper. Even though I’m alone in the captain’s quarters, I still feel a tad silly for talking out loud to a cat.

The cat raises its paw.

I still don’t believe it.

“Could you go and…” I look around the room for something. “Knock that crystal off the bookshelf.”

The cat cranes its head and looks at the bookshelf where the captain has a row of crystals displayed like some fortune teller’s shop. Then it looks back to me with an unimpressed look on its face.

I hold my breath and wait. Even if the cat could understand me, it is still a cat and they don’t listen to anyone. The queen had a pair of Siamese cats that ruled the palace and terrorized everyone. I didn’t see them often and I never got the impression they understood me. Then again, I never tried to talk to them. Humans would deem that crazy.

“Meow,” the cat says lazily, then turns around and pads over to the shelf and jumps up on it. It goes right over to first crystal it sees, a black tourmaline tower, and with a tap-tap-tap of its paw, it pushes it off.

The crystal clatters to the deck but doesn’t break on the wood planks.

The cat does understand me!

I look over to the row of weapons the captain has. The cat follows my gaze. It couldn’t bring me a pistol or a sword but maybe it could take a small dagger in its mouth and—

The sound of the door unlocking interrupts my thought and the cat jumps down from the shelf and scampers away to the corner, hiding behind a chair just as the door swings open and the captain steps in.

I want to ignore him. I want to look away. But he has this strangely compelling and commanding presence about him that I find it hard to keep my gaze away, even when I’m filled with hatred for him.

It doesn’t help that he’s handsome. He doesn’t have the refined blue blood of Aerik which shows in his smooth skin and stiff posturing, but what the captain has is both rugged and shadowy. Enigmatic. His jaw is sharp under his beard, chin strong, his nose distinctive but doesn’t overpower his face. Lips that are full and expressive. His low dark brows give a brooding quality to his dusky blue eyes, yet even though he looks dangerous—even though heisdangerous—there’s always a twinkle to them. Though it speaks more to his wickedness than to his frivolity.

The most mysterious thing about him is the lack of scarring he has on his face. He doesn’t have the weathered sea face of a sailor, or the marks and blemishes of someone who has no doubt been involved with many skirmishes. The pirates I’ve heard stories about all have missing eyes covered with eye patches and scars running down their faces or missing limbs. His crew all seem very intact and rather fresh-looking.

Because they’re monsters, I hear Daphne’s voice in my head.All of them.

And yet I was a monster once too.

“And how are we this morning, your ladyship?” the captain says as he strides over to me.

“This morning?” I exclaim.

A corner of his lips curls into a crooked smile. “You mean you don’t know how long you slept for?”

I blink. The last thing I remember was sitting back down in the corner of the cage after I threw the water at him. I must have fallen asleep but I didn’t think I’d sleptthatlong.

“And you haven’t even touched your food,” he says, eyeing the bag. “Well, if you don’t mind, I might have to take the rum back. I thought it would help you with the pain, emotional and, well, otherwise,” he nods at me, alluding to the brand, “but…”

He crouches down and reaches through the bars for the bag, sifting through it for the bottle, and before I know what’s happening I’m launching forward, my finger splayed out and I dig my nails into his forearm, deep enough to draw blood.

He yelps and withdraws his arm, holding it to his chest.

“Aye, alright, Princess, you can keep the rum.”

“You deserve that and more,” I tell him.