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I had purchased practical things too. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That’s a trinket.”

It’s not like I had long to shop. By the time I finished buying necessities, I had rushed this purchase. “I can’t play it,” I admitted. “I don’t have magic.”

He sighed and shook his head, like he couldn’t fathom my impracticality. I shrugged. It wasn’t my job to please him.

“We need to apply the ashflower,” he said. “That’s more important than your music.”

I set the phonograph down, carefully tucking it back into my pack.

He was right. The Brand had grown, and so had its calling. The pull had haunted me through the morning, growing stronger, whispering how it would claim me. I worked to ignore it. Whenever I gave into my despair, I could feel the Brand growing, claiming any fraction of my soul that it could. It waited, hungry for opportunity, eager to expand.

Since stepping on the boat, the Brand had grown more aggressive. Somehow, it knew I now stood on a seaworthy vessel. It told me to seize control of this ship. It begged me to surrender to its pull.

The promise of Zayne’s healing touch sounded like relief. When I recalled our last session, the pressure of his fingertips… There was more heat to my desire than the burn of my Brand.

“Of course,” I agreed.

Together, we entered the cabin. Once again, he crowded behind me to sit on the stool. I looked at the bed, large enough for two, but that didn’t mean…

We were sharing this space.

It hadn’t quite dawned on me. At the market, I had tried to prepare. Clothes and food, medicine and hygiene supplies—yes, I had thought of all that. I had forgotten the size of the cabin.

“I tried to trade for a bigger boat,” he blurted out. “Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything Vanessa could manage by herself. If you prefer, I can sleep on the deck.”

There he was, being friendly again. Maybe the hot and cold wasn’t about me. It had more to do with our uncomfortable arrangement.

“We can put the pillows between us,” I answered.

I settled on the mattress with a sigh. Through the port windows, the docks of Port Saundyrs faded into the distance. I began unlacing my armor.

Zayne waited in silence, looking at the floor, the windows, anywhere but at me. My motions were mechanical, contemplating where the leather needed cleaning. I forced my mind to the fae-made tonic I’d purchased for the effort.

Removing my armor, I realized I was still wearing Zayne’s tunic beneath. He saw that too. “It’s yours now, if you’d like,” he said.

“Thanks.”

By Teyr, this was awkward. The heat between us was taut. There was no release, and the tension had nowhere to go.

Our dynamic had shifted so many times I was losing track. Who were we now? Not friends. Comrades, perhaps. Those who had each other’s back because it was safer. Trustworthy, but only out of necessity.

Comrades didn’t need a spark between them. Attempting to be mundane and uninviting, I removed the tunic, baring my undershirt.

At the sight of my skin, I sucked in a breath. My body—my Brand…

My entire stomach had turned, becoming sickly gray. The Brand now stretched up my neck and across my sides, covering my shoulders. It dipped beneath the waist of my pants. The strange, smooth texture begged me to surrender to it. My transformation was an inevitability.

At the sight, I started calculating options, ways that I could overpower Zayne and take control of this boat. I could obey the Brand. I stood, taking a step toward Zayne. My hand drifted toward my dagger—

No.

I squeezed my fist, focusing on the ring. The pressure of it. I allowed the pain to bloom. I clenched my eyes, waiting for the moment to pass.

Zayne’s breath hitched. “Are you okay?”

“The Brand, it… it wants to take control.”