Page 23

A distant chatter hums through the air as we near the docks. Emerald Cove teems with life tonight as I gaze upon the shore where countless lanterns are lit. A soft orange glow cascades across the doors of various taverns, homes, and businesses.

Embers of peace ignite in my heart at the sight of my home.

While the island wasn’t where I spent my entire childhood, it was where I grew into myself.

Where I discovered the world, made too many mistakes and watched the sunsets with my father as he spoke of life and whatever lessons he felt like passing down to me each night.

Emerald Cove is the place where I witnessed the stout love between my mother and father.

The love that remains a pillar in my soul, despite it being the one thing that ended them both.

Our life on the island had been a good one.

Maybe that’s why it didn’t last forever—no good thing can go untarnished for long in this cursed world.

My eyes meet Grayson where he sits on the bench in front of me while his men paddle us ashore in one of his longboats.

After I walked away from him on the ship, he hasn’t said a single word to me.

The silence is deafening and I find myself wanting to throw something at his face more now than ever before.

He had Tommy tell me that I was to bring the Serpent’s Key with us ashore.

He didn’t want the relic left behind on the ship—which I’m thankful for.

He might trust his crew, but I certainly don’t, and bringing it with along means I don’t have to worry about stealing it later should I have the opportunity to escape.

The boat topples slightly as we arrive at the docks and Grayson’s men work to tie us off to the pilings.

A breeze skitters through Grayson’s inky locks as he rises and surprisingly extends a hand toward me.

I look at it for a moment before deciding to forego his offering.

I stand and climb the ladder rungs until my feet are securely on the wood planks of the dock.

Grayson steps up beside me, casting a shadow in his wake.

I look into the stony planes of his face and wonder if his stormy disposition will pass and if we’ll fall back into the game I can’t seem to resist playing with him.

When his lips part, I feel a flutter in my chest. “You are not to be parted from me while we remain on the island. Do you understand?”

No poke. No prod to annoy me. A simple statement, though I know the significance of the consequences, should I attempt to disobey him. Which I fully plan on doing.

I nod as I bite my tongue, knowing the snide remark dancing on the tip of it will only worsen matters for myself.

Without another word, he walks toward the end of the dock and I follow suit with seven of his men behind us.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Zaos and a few other members of Grayson’s crew on the second longboat.

They’re a few minutes away from the docks, but Zaos finds me across the distance and I see his lips immediately tighten.

If the order to protect me hadn’t come from Grayson himself, I have no doubt there would be a throwing knife in my back and my body would be at the bottom of the Aelynthi Sea.

I peel my eyes up toward the emerging night sky and wish upon the heavens there will be a way for me to send word to Amara and Wells before we leave Emerald Cove.

That I might have a chance to escape the hold Grayson has on me so we can take the Serpent’s Key and venture for Thaeto’s treasure on our own.

If Grayson’s barrelman was correct, the Trinity should only be a day behind us, and it will take more time than that for Grayson to rally his men and restock the ship with supplies.

Tilting my head back, I pray upon the stars.

Not even a whisper of hope responds.

The streets are filled to the brim with pirates, working women, and merchants who think they’re savvy enough to gull our kind into undesirable trades. Grayson and Zaos head our entourage and despite the number of people on the street, everyone seems to make way for us.

Since my father died and I was forced to take over his debts with Red Beard, the people of Emerald Cove have looked upon me with disdain. They know what I have become—a bounty hunter for a crook on the mainland. A breaker of The Code. A target they all want their shot at.

There was never a time when I could simply walk the streets of Emerald Cove as a grown woman and not have someone sneer at me, throw something at me, or threaten to cut my innards out with their knife.

There was never a time when I could walk about freely without constantly looking over my shoulder.

That was until this very moment as I stride behind the most powerful pirate ever known to exist, along with his faithful watchdog.

One wrong look at Grayson and I know Zaos would plant one of his throwing knives into their tender flesh.

I can’t help but wonder what Grayson did to buy his blind loyalty.

I could see it when we had our tiff on the quarterdeck.

Zaos saw me as a threat to his captain and he wanted nothing more than to eliminate that threat—even if it got him in trouble.

But he seized his efforts the moment his captain gave the order.

It is a strong bond indeed to forgo one’s own instincts at the command of another.

There is something alluring about the power Grayson possesses.

Even before Esoros had become overrun with its blight, I can’t recall the king being revered in the same way.

How they all look at Grayson—not only with fear, but with awe—well, it is an unfamiliar magick.

Whatever his immortal soul is made of charms everyone around him.

A divine trickery that even I have fallen for. Despite my best efforts, I somehow keep finding myself tripping over it again and again.

It irritates me to no end.

Colorful women with rouge painted lips and coal smeared eyes stand outside the brothel as we pass.

Their skirts are hiked up so high I’m surprised there’s enough fabric to hide their cunts as they wave at passersby with a wiggle of their fingers or a flutter of their fans.

I don’t balk at them, because I know Raven would have become one of them.

Much like Raven, the girls we pass by were likely sold into the sex trade when they were young children and passed around from brothel to brothel.

That life is all they know—all they’ve been allowed to know.

One striking blonde with a doll-like face and supple breasts spilling out of her corset saunters up to Grayson. He slows his pace and my stomach tightens as she strokes his exposed forearm.

“Well aren’t you the handsomest devil I’ve ever seen.” She bats her long lashes at him and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to pull my gaze away from his face. I want to see what he says to her. What his reaction is. And I hate how I hold my breath in anticipation.

“And how would you know what a devil looks like?” His voice is low, sultry. My heartbeat quickens. I want to look away. I need to look away, but I can’t. Not as he stops walking and caresses a finger down the side of her porcelain skin.

Several other women file out of the front door of the brothel and Grayson’s men behind me start whistling. I eye them over my shoulder to see a few of them grabbing onto two women at once, whispering promises of how much pleasure they might grant them.

I snort. As if these men have any idea how to please a woman. Their bravado speaks truth enough of how they likely make use of their time in bed. Consumed with their own desires, leaving no room to consider what their bed mate might want.

Tension hikes my shoulders to my ears as I see the beautiful woman lean into Grayson’s touch.

She flutters her bright blue eyes closed as though his touch is the most holy thing she’s ever experienced.

My skin grows hot as I swallow the knot in my throat.

He moves his hand down to her arm and settles it there. A familiar gesture.

“I’ve seen devils before,” she whispers. “You all have the same eyes.”

Her words give her away. She must have great luck with calling strong men devils—making them feel powerful and seductive.

But Grayson Tyde does not need to feel those things because he is power.

He is seduction. And the wench doesn’t know a damn thing about his celestial eyes.

If she did, she would know there is nothing devilish about them.

They are pure stardust floating amongst the bluest ocean.

They are transcendent and . . . they are peering straight at me.

Fucking hells.

As though he aroused an ancient siren’s call from the murky depths to enchant me, his lips widen until he’s smiling at me fully. A knowing look passes over his face and that’s when I feel the snap of whatever spell he put me under break, leaving nothing but icy hot rage in its wake.

Surrounded by his men, I have nowhere to go and he knows it. I’m forced to watch as he leans down and nestles his nose against the woman’s neck. She giggles and I bunch my fists so tightly that my fingernails bite into my palms.

I don’t know why I care. I shouldn’t care.

But fire sears me to my core and it is so damn confusing .

Grayson Tyde is a lethal poison that tastes like the most heavenly sweets.

I both want him and loathe him and I do not understand the feelings raging war within me.

My blood sings for him at the same time my mind screams at me to wring my bare hands around his neck.

I want to throw my dagger at his chest and yet .

. . my fingers ache to know what it might feel like to touch every inch of him.

The same way she is touching him.

I can’t take it anymore—not as she runs her hand up the side of his arm and buries it beneath his black locks as she holds onto the back of his neck.