Page 51 of Bloody Black

H olly is still alive when they bring her below decks, her wound neatly stitched. Hopeless, ignorant, I have no idea what I could do for her. What I might say to ease her suffering.

“Go bathe. Change clothes.” Xandretta nudges me aside. “And for gods’ sake, get some sleep.”

I nod blankly, soaked in blood. Bereft, lost, I return to the stateroom. The chair where I sat in Robb’s lap is still in the center of the floor. How much things have changed in the days since then.

Now Rokhur is angry with me; Holly and Robb are injured, Mercy is dead, Prudence mutinied and abandoned me… I peel out of my clothes, swaying on my feet. When I’m wearing nothing but my skivvies and a thin camisole, I lurch to the wash basin.

Water sloshes as I scrub away the blood crusted under my nails. Crimson rivers run from my hands like tributaries back to the sea. Chewing at my lip, I scrub harder. Some of it won’t come off, a permanent stain upon my skin .

Staring blankly at myself in the mirror, I dry off with a lavish, plush towel. I dig through Robb’s drawers and find a fresh shirt. Long, royal blue, the sight of the color comforts instead of haunts me, and I pull it on with my hair still damp, wondering what the hell I’m going to do.

What am I supposed to do? Can I even make it to Celestia? Will the entire crew be dead before we get there?

The door swings open behind me, and even though I hear the creak, I don’t turn. I don’t turn, because I know the sound of his footsteps, recognize the scent of him in the air.

“You’re injured. You should be resting.”

“It looks worse than it is.” Strong arms wrap around my waist.

After the briefest of pauses, I lean back, into his arms. Jagged breaths fill my lungs, my lip aches from me biting it.

“I think,” to my horror, it sounds like I’m going to cry. “I think it would be best if…”

“What’s best for you is me. So I’m not leaving.” Roughened, calloused hands knead my shoulders. “Just breathe for a minute and let me hold you.”

I inhale to the count of three.

Exhale through my nose. Count to five.

In and out, over and over. So far, I’ve gotten the justice I wanted. I made them suffer, I took my pound of flesh. But even though I thought their deaths would rebuild me, they haven’t. Instead of feeling stronger, I feel even more broken. Like an egg without its shell.

My body, my mind, my sense of right and wrong, everything that made me good.

They took that. They took my life, my throne, my crown, my father…

my friends. They stole who I was. And that is someone I can never get back.

No matter how many bad men I kill or good people I save, the person I used to be is gone.

Dead.

I’m dead, and Robb doesn’t even know that, but if he did, he certainly wouldn’t want me. Not to share a bed, not for anything.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” I admit aloud. “I can’t fix it.”

“Tell me what to do,” he says, brushing his lips over my shoulder. “Let me help you.”

Someday these bargains on my neck must be fulfilled. I keep making promises to Rokhur, and I have no idea how I will pay her back. As much as I want to be with Robb, I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

“This–us–won’t work. Not like you want. I wish you’d give up. It feels like…when you’re close to me…”

I choke. I can’t even manage to talk about this. Us. Whatever it is we’re doing.

“What about at The Bitter End? Or in the chair, earlier?”

It isn’t a good idea. I know it isn’t. But I’d do nearly anything to spend one more night alive. Blood and flesh and bones and human, alive and free and willing .

“I wish we’d met sooner. I wish you’d been there before all this. But I can’t go back. I can’t be anything better than what I am.”

“And what are you? A pirate? I don’t give a damn about that.”

I definitely cannot tell him the whole truth, but there’s a long list of things that are awful about me, so I can just pick two. “I’m afraid of you. I’m too afraid, Robb. I can face a sword but I can’t handle you. Can’t have sex with you, even though I want to. ”

“Then let’s fix that. You and me.” His hands graze against my hip, light as a breeze. “It’ll be easy.”

I laugh. If I know anything, it’s that nothing about my life is easy. I start to say no, but the temptation is too great. He’s so warm. With him I am neither princess nor pirate. I’m just me. And he is—

“Who are you, Lieutenant?” I turn to face him. “Why are you here?”

His hands drift up to cradle my face, his lips press briefly against mine.

“The first time I saw you, you were standing on the palace steps, chin high. Every part of you was perfect, except your eyes. Those were sad.” Robb gazes down at me.

“I was a soldier in your father’s army. Nothing more.

Certainly beneath the notice of a princess.

You didn’t see me, but I saw you, Anne. Saw you training for that tournament, watched you practice sometimes. ”

Robb gently traces my cheekbone. “You fought like a storm. So brave it took my breath away. After you vanished, I searched high and low. Every harbor. Every market. Every street. But I never thought to search the sea.”

Floored, I stare at him. “You recognized me at the tavern. The night we met.”

“I don’t know many men who wouldn’t recognize the most beautiful woman they’ve ever seen.” He hesitates, one beat, then two. “If you believe in Fate, as I do, then you know that you need to stay with me. Do what I tell you to do.”

“Just when I thought you were likeable—”

“I want to kiss you.” He makes a show of putting his hands on his head. “Tie me up if you need to, but let me kiss you before I go mad.”

It’s ridiculous, the effect he has; immediately, desire floods me.

My will to resist him evaporates. I lean into him, placing both hands on his chest, surrendering to his mouth with a feeling of profound relief.

I sink and sink into blue oblivion, lost in the waves, floating through space, grateful not to think.

He groans, and the rumble of his voice vibrates all the way down to my toes. Robb is honey and fire, and when the kiss finally ends, my arms are wrapped around his neck, clinging like ivy.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Look at me.”

My eyelids drift open. He stares down at me, sea green. He hesitates. Waits.

I make a noise of assent, then start to unbutton his shirt.

His tanned skin, his tattoos, his muscles—I need to see them.

I want to feel them beneath my palms. But I have to pause our kiss to glance down, because each of the buttons are stiff, and they won’t release their hold. Frowning, I tug at one, then another.

“Allow me.” Robb grasps the white fabric and yanks, ripping his shirt open. Buttons fall like rain, making dull pinging sounds on the floor.

“That’s one way to do it.”

“The fastest,” he agrees, placing his hands back on his head. “Speaking of shirts… are you wearing anything under mine?”

“I do normally, yes.”

“I’d better check. I’ve been told that military policy is trust but verify.”

I shake my head at his playful smile. “Fine.”

Robb’s hands slip down my body slowly, cupping my ass, where he’s rewarded with cool skin and absolutely no trace of underwear.

“Why, you little liar.” He’s careful though, not to hold me tight. Not to make me feel penned in.

“I responded with a true but irrelevant fact. Those are, after all, my favorite kind.” I break off with a sigh when he lifts me. Wrap my legs around his waist as he trails his nose up my throat.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to pick me up.”

Robb gives my bottom a squeeze. “My mistake. Are you going to punish me?”

Maybe later. For now, I lean in, breathing against his skin. “Be a good boy and don’t move.”

“Okay.” The faintest groan escapes his lips, but Robb remains completely still, waiting for me.

He smells delicious. It conjures an image of me, licking up and down his naked body.

Praying for courage, I palm him through his pants. I can almost hear his heart pounding. When I kiss his neck, pressing my lips against his throat, his head falls back. His curse is so soft, I almost think I’ve imagined it.

“What are you thinking?”

“That I need to touch you. That I want my tongue inside you. That I want you in my bed, screaming my name. But you’re not ready, and that’s okay. No matter how long it takes. I’ll wait.”

I take a deep breath. “Waiting sounds great, but also, could you take your pants off? ”

The man doesn’t hesitate. He’s naked within two seconds, although he winces as he does it. I glance down at the bandage on his thigh, wrapped tight, starting to go red.

“Er… Maybe we should ask Tremaine to see about that wound again?”

“Sweetheart, I could be on fire and still want to have sex with you.”

What a great idea for an epitaph.

“Lie on the bed.”

It takes him a minute. Meanwhile, I fastidiously avoid looking at his length, as if I have some sort of allergy. Robb adjusts, and I can feel his smirk from several feet away.

“Are you going to ignore me, or…?”

Or . Definitely or.

But still, I stand here like an idiot, until I finally have no choice but to return my eyes to the bed. To where the lieutenant is casually lounging. We’re at a precipice, and he’s giving me the time I need to gather my courage.

I take my time admiring his body. His chest is tattooed, just like his arm.

They are standard fare, common to sailors– a rose, a swallow, a ship, a rope.

The nautical compass. Besides his lips and eyes, there’s no trace of softness.

His muscular abdomen looks like it was carved from stone.

Bizarrely, I wonder if I could eat meals from it.

I drag his shirt over my head, toss it on the floor. Now he can see every scar, every mark, every dark burn across my skin. Thick-thighed, muscular, I am only small compared to him .

“Damn, look how beautiful you are.” His gaze is all praise. Not even a hint of disappointment. The look he gives me is warm yet intense, all teasing gone.