Page 6

“Come here, darlin’. I’ll give you a cock to sit on,” the drunk man slurred over the music and laughter surrounding them.

“Release me,” she demanded, her voice stern.

“No can do,” he taunted as he held her in place.

She lifted her head from his chest, not bothering to will her eyes back into their human form, and stared up at him. The moment his laughter slowed, he glanced down as he clutched her to his sweat-covered front, and all signs of amusement fell from his filthy face.

It sent a jolt of satisfaction through her. Her stare quickly found a few members of the crew, all of their eyes locked on them. She took note of the wrath on Jak’s face while he watched her, completely ignoring the woman kissing the nook of his neck.

“W-wi- witch ,” the man stuttered out, locked in a trance of fear.

Esmyra tilted her head to the side and tsked. “Not quite.” She flashed him a wicked grin as the tips of her canines elongated for only a second before returning to their usual length. She could feel the man’s heart pounding rapidly in his chest.

“What is the meaning of this?” A deep voice holding a near growl made her eyes flare, and she shifted them back to their usual form.

Draevyn Rowe now stood before them, hand on the hilt of his sword as it hung from its sheath.

The drunken man then shoved her into Draevyn, who caught her on instinct in his arms. When she turned to face the drunken fool, he ran off, pushing through the crowd a moment later.

“Coward,” she hissed before peering up into the Phoenix’s gold-flecked, whiskey eyes. Her stare drifted down to one of his hands that refused to loosen his hold on her waist.

“Are you alright?” he asked as his eyes roamed over Esmyra’s body.

Curiosity struck her then. Draevyn was worried for her. He thought he was rescuing a damsel in distress…when the only person he rescued was the foul man who ran off.

How delightful .

“Yes. Thank you for helping me,” she answered as she kept her breathing heavy, pretending to be unarmed and frazzled.

She straightened her stance as he leisurely removed his hold on her. Once his eyes were through inspecting her, Draevyn offered a curt nod. “I will be on my way then, miss.”

He moved to turn around. Eyes flaring, Esmyra reached out on instinct and draped her hand delicately over his shoulder, turning him back to face her before pressing her chest against his.

Draevyn gave her a knowing look with a forced tilt to his lips and let out a huff. “Though you’re very beautiful, I’m afraid I’m not interested in your services. Perhaps you should call it a night. I would hate to see you end up in the wrong bed. One of a man much more brutal than myself.”

Esmyra licked her lips seductively and didn’t miss his stare drifting to the movement of it with a slightly raised brow. He looked as if he was silently pleading with her to not challenge his bluff.

“I think you’re much more brutal than you lead on, Captain.” Her voice was like smoke and honey.

His eyes widened, and this time, when he smirked, she sensed it was more than genuine.

Suddenly, a drunk, cloaked passerby slammed into their sides, spilling his ale all over both of them as he stumbled about without mumbling an apology. Esmyra didn’t have to look to know it was Jak, as if he were urging her to get a move on.

Draevyn grabbed her wrist lightly. “Gods, this place is a fucking nightmare. I have a table in the back. Come with me so I can at least get you out of the center of the madness.”

Esmyra had to suppress a grin as the Phoenix brought her to a secluded corner. He escorted her to an empty booth, only a table away from where his crew lay in wait, and gestured to the seat. She slid in a moment later as he sat across from her.

The captain waved to the barmaid, and she brought over two mugs of ale. This couldn’t have been more perfect—the more booze the man gushed down, the easier it would be to pry his secrets from him. She would hardly need to make a scene, though his crew remaining so close posed a small issue.

Esmyra felt the eyes of her crew digging into her back. With subtle glances around the room, she caught several of their pistols hidden and aimed directly at Draevyn and his crew members.

Draevyn’s gaze found hers, and the siren within her thrashed. It was as if it recognized him—or recognized the threat he was. Her pulse hammered in her ears, not fully understanding what was happening within her.

“Have a name, love?” he asked.

Her eyes glided over him for a few moments before answering, “Esmi.” She opted for her nickname, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Esmi,” he mimicked, as if working to taste the name on his tongue. “Well, Esmi, where were we? Ah, yes. How is it you know I’m a captain?”

Esmyra’s stare roamed over him, taking in the Phoenix’s disguise.

He wore a filthy, loose-fitted shirt, rolled up to his elbows, showing off numerous scars.

She recalled his worn leather belt, strapped with numerous weaponry—a cutlass, daggers, and two pistols.

And then her stare lifted to the bandana tied loosely above his brow as his dark hair poked out beneath.

Its fabric was a deep scarlet color, possibly to resemble the countless blood he’d spilled or the flames he wielded.

Draevyn Rowe’s disguise was certainly a convincing one to the untrained eye, until her stare fell to his hand resting on the table.

Her fingers gently danced across the table until they trailed along his own resting atop the splintering wood, her touch tracing over his ring.

“You wear the mark of a king, Captain. Was an easy guess.” She winked, and his eyes flared as if he was just now realizing he forgot to remove one of the few things that could give his identity away.

“Tell me. What’s a man such as yourself doing in Anchorage Cove? ”

He cleared his throat, and she leaned back in the booth, making sure her bottom lip pouted outwards as her breasts peaked in his direction. His eyes drank her in as he gulped down a sip from his mug.

“You don’t have to do all your acting around me, love. Don’t waste your efforts. My statement from before remains.” Another swig of ale. “Bold of you to continue to try to throw yourself at a known man of the king.”

Esmyra’s jaw locked, and she placed her hand on her lap beneath the table as her talons threatened to extend at the sudden surge of anger. “And what efforts do you speak of?” Her voice feigned innocence.

“For one, I can tell you’re no true member of a brothel.

At least not of this isle, and if you are, well…

you aren’t very good at it.” Her brow furrowed.

“Men were ready to throw coin at you left and right, yet you didn’t take any of them on their offers and instead continued to waltz right by.

In my direction, may I add.” All hints of seduction dropped from her face.

“No need to act with me. Now, why is it you wanted my attention? Consider it received.”

What the fuck?

Her eyes darted back and forth between his, trying to think of where to steer the conversation. Aggravation flooded her.

The way the man looked at her, challenge in his eyes yet a hint of lust, made her believe seduction wasn’t entirely off the table. Perhaps he was just looking for something a bit more .

Now, she could play this one of two ways—force her way into his secrets as planned, which would surely end in a blood bath with both of their crews lingering. Or she could attempt to get aboard his ship, where even more secrets regarding the crown could emerge.

She didn’t hate that new idea. A burst of excitement surged through her at the thought of uncovering more of Lephyrin’s treachery and wielding it against their tyrant king.

Esmyra swallowed, praying to the lost sea goddesses that her acting would be convincing. “A man of the king may not be as cruel as those who reside at this isle. Would you not agree, Captain? Many eyes and hands have felt entitled to my body.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “If you’re truly in this line of work, then there’s not much I can do for the behavior of the men in Anchorage Cove. Perhaps a new way to earn coin would better suit you.”

“Do you have a ship in the harbor, Captain? ”

Draevyn cleared his throat. “I do.” His voice was rough, as if irritated by her question.

Esmyra swallowed and hesitated before asking, “And what would you charge a mere woman like myself to board your ship to start a new life somewhere?” She paused. “Not all ships are safe for such things.”

His stare softened as he looked over her once more, and that was when she knew continuing to play the damsel in distress would be the best approach.

Draevyn leaned back in his seat and let out a sigh as he scratched at his facial scruff—a dark brown color that showed hints of red in the lantern light, much like his hair.

“I wouldn’t charge a woman coin for refuge or seeking safe travels to a better life. ”

A better life. As if women in the line of work she was claiming to be had a better life in his kingdom, using their bodies and any form of drug they could get their hands on to make their lives more bearable.

A false smile leisurely climbed her lips. “Then you are very kind.”

His smile moved to match hers, but then turned menacing. “I wouldn’t say that, love. But if you’re looking to leave this isle, I’ll grant you safe passage to another port. We leave just after dawn. We were only passing through.”

“And what brought the king’s men here in the first place?” She pushed, and his smile dropped.

“That’s the business of the crown.”

“Aye,” she whispered. “Of course. Apologies, Captain…” she dragged out the word, wondering if he would provide his name willingly, but he only gave her a wary look. “Do I get to know my soon-to-be savior’s name? You know mine. ‘Tis only fair I know yours.”

He cleared his throat. “Captain will do for now.”

Esmyra’s lips twitched into a smirk. If he wished to play games of the mind, he would soon learn that she never lost. “Aye… Captain .”