Page 32

“Before my mother and I even had a chance to bury his casket, Red Beard assumed me to take over my father’s debts as his only living heir.

” Pulling the center of my tunic to the side, I turn around so he can see the scar just below the left side of my collarbone.

“I was just shy of my sixteenth birthday before he brought his brand to my skin, marking me as his property until all my father’s debts are paid.

My mother tried to fight him, but Red Beard?—”

“Has an army of men and creatures at his call,” Grayson interrupts, his face twisting in anger.

“Yes.” The cuffs in my hair clink together as I straighten my tunic.

“Every member of my crew is indebted to him as well. Their freedom, and mine, is the only reason we took a chance on going after the Serpent’s Key.

Red Beard received word from one of his sources that someone was planning on stealing it from the king.

Once my crew and I received the order, we— I —hatched a plan to steal it from Blythe. ”

Grayson’s lips curve as he runs his fingers over his chin. “Smart move. You avoid taking it directly from the king to prevent any chance of his guard and navy coming after you, and wait for a vulnerable moment in Blythe’s plan.”

“Only there wasn’t truly a vulnerable moment in his plan, and Raven—” I stop, the words still stuck in my throat, even now. I shudder, forcing them out. “And my best friend died because of my miscalculation.”

“And we arrive back at the notion of choice, Little Pearl,” Grayson says softly.

I knew what he meant. That Raven could have told me no. If she didn’t want to engage in the plan to steal the Serpent’s Key, she could have walked away.

But would I have let her?

I have to believe that I would have.

“You have no reason to trust me, Grayson. I know that. But if Thaeto’s treasure is as endless as legend says then increasing my portion will have no true impact on your men. And if you choose to abide by my new terms, I promise I will never try to escape again.”

The last words I speak feel like ash on my tongue as I vow to give him my freedom, however temporary it might be. Holding my breath, I wait for his response. He tilts his head slightly as he peers into my eyes.

“Yes,” he finally says.

“Yes,” I echo back in surprise.

“You may have an increased share of the treasure on the promise that you will not try to escape until the prize is won.”

“Really?”

His brows raise. “You seem displeased. Should I retract my offer?”

“No!” I say quickly. “No. I’m just . . . Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. There is still much to do.” He nods toward the Serpent’s Key. “Speaking of which, there are a few more things I need to settle downstairs. Collin should be back any moment with your rum. Is there anything else you require to unlock more of the puzzle?”

A newfound excitement buzzes through my veins.

Grayson agreed to increase my share of the treasure—and if it’s as substantial as legend suggests, I could pay off all our debts.

We would be free. My crew and I might actually have a way to evade Red Beard’s control over us.

Raven’s death might actually mean something now.

“No.” I shake my head. “The rum is all I need.”

“Good.” He walks back toward the door and opens it, revealing Collin on the other side. “Make sure you keep an eye on this one, Collin.” Grayson glances at me over his shoulder and there’s a hint of a smirk tugging on his lips. “I have a feeling she enjoys being chased.”

A sharp rod of pain stabs through the center of my forehead as I roll over, burying my face in a soft pillow that smells like a warm sea breeze with a subtle hint of cedar wood. “Mmm.” I breathe in deeply, then instantly regret it as another jolt of pain shoots through my skull.

I moan and bring my fingertips to the center of my forehead and push hard. The tension releases some of the pain at first but as soon as I remove my fingers, another dart of lightning hits between my eyes.

“You drank too much rum last night,” Grayson’s voice is distant, sounding as though he’s underwater.

I try to blink my eyes open and regret it the moment the sunlight beams into them. Burying my head back in the pillow, I take in a stuttering breath. Some rustling sounds from behind me and even the slight noise makes my heartbeat thud against my skull.

Through the fog of the pain, I try to think back to the events of last night.

After he agreed to increase my share of Thaeto’s treasure, he went back downstairs for a long while and Collin brought me the rum I asked for.

In fact, he brought me the entire bottle after I kept requesting he fetch me another shot into the waning night hours as I worked on the puzzle.

“Close the curtains.” I groan, waving my hand over my head in the direction I think the window is in. It’s hard to tell which direction is which with the splitting of my skull.

Grayson lets out a soft chuckle before I hear his feet moving across the wooden floorboards. They squeak under his weight before I hear the wisp of the curtains being drawn. Lifting my head from the pillow, I keep my eyes closed for a moment longer, preparing myself for the visual assault.

Slowly creaking them open, I draw my brows against the ache in my head.

The first thing I see is a tall glass of water on the bedside table along with another glass that looks to be filled with mud water.

“Harrick’s cure for hangovers,” Grayson says.

“What is it?” I ask as I slowly flip onto my back and rise onto my elbows.

“Better not to ask, but I’ve seen it work many times before. Here.” He extends the glass toward me. It’s cool to the touch, but the moment I get a whiff of whatever contents slosh against the sides, my stomach roils in protest and I feel bile rise to the back of my throat.

“I promise it works wonders,” he encourages and I pray to the heavens he’s not playing some horrible joke on me.

Pinching my nostrils shut, I put my lips to the edge of the glass and down it. As soon as I swallow the last mouthful, I feel my stomach tightening like a vice and I nearly wretch all over the bed.

“Deep breaths,” Grayson croons in a soft voice I didn’t know he was capable of making.

I glare at him, but heed his advice and breathe in deeply through my nose before sighing it all out through my mouth. I do that a few more times until my stomach settles and the pain in my head starts to subside.

I look at the glass, where remnants of what tasted like moldy tree bark taint the sides. “That was awful.”

“But it works.”

I look up at him and nod. “Yes, I think it does.”

Grayson is dressed in his all-black garb this morning with his belt secured firmly around his hips and his bandolier strapped across his chest. His eyes are a vivid blue that shine brighter than they have the past two days and he looks well-rested.

Not like he spent most of the night sitting downstairs drinking rum with his men while I worked the night away uncoding the Serpent’s Key.

He looks like a god ready to go into battle and I feel like . . . death .

Swinging the duvet to the side, I’m met with an assault of goosebumps that spread across my bare legs.

Bare. Legs.

Mouth ajar, I stare at my naked skin and it takes me a moment to register that I’m lying in bed with nothing but my undergarments on and Grayson is only a few feet away. Heat flushes my cheeks and I scurry to grab the duvet and cover myself.

“Did you undress me last night?” My voice squeaks as I wrap the duvet around my shoulders and make sure all my important parts are hidden from sight.

Grayson laughs and I hate the way it sounds like a smooth roll of thunder beckoning me from across a stormy sea. “Taking advantage of drunk women isn’t my thing, Rowenya, if that’s what you’re getting at. But to answer your question, you started undressing yourself when I came back up to the room.”

I blink at him slowly, trying to recollect the memories of last night after I got deep in the bottle. My head spins as I pull for them, but nothing comes. I rub my open palms against my shut eyes before looking back to Grayson.

“I undressed myself? In front of you?”

His smirk crinkles the scar over his cheek making him look dangerously handsome. “You asked me to help with your pants.”

I blanch as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“You were having considerable difficulty with your weapons belt.”

My mouth is dry as dust. Darting my tongue between my lips, I try to wet them to no avail. “And did you help? With the belt?”

His smile is serpentine and I find my toes curling against the sheets under the duvet. He’s silent for a few beats, letting my torment build. Then he finally says, “You managed to get it off yourself. But it was certainly a joy to watch you struggle.”

I throw the pillow next to me directly at him. He doesn’t move this time as the pillow hits him square in the face and a few white feathers shoot out of the sides. A single feather clings to one of his shoulder-length curls.

“So violent,” he purrs. “If only you would have engaged me like this last night while I watched you undress. Things might have turned out differently.”

“Ugh! You are insufferable!”

He tosses the pillow into my lap and the scent of the ocean mixed with cedar wood spills into my nose.

His scent . He slept in the bed last night.

Blessed stars! He slept in the bed last night . And I was too drunk to even recall if anything happened between us.

Grayson must see the questions running through my mind because he says, “Like I told you, Little Pearl, taking advantage of drunk women isn’t my thing.

” He stands and ambles toward me. His large frame blocks out most of the light coming from the curtained window behind him as he leans over me, taking my chin between his fingers.

“But should you find yourself undressing in front of me without having too much rum in your belly, I can’t promise that things won’t end differently.” Those ocean eyes peer down at my lips as he brushes the pad of his thumb along my jawline.

Then before my foggy mind can comprehend what his meaning is behind those words, he lets go of his hold on me and heads for the door.

Feeling suddenly exposed despite the blanket that covers my body, I look around for my clothes.

They’re not on the bed, or on the small chair in the far corner of the room.

Leaning to the right, I look at the bedside table and then to the one right next to me, but they’re all devoid of my belongings—including my weapons.

The only indication that I spent any time in the room at all is the Serpent’s Key with a few more notches released and the two empty glasses that sit on the bedside table.

“Grayson, where are my things?”

He stops with his hand on the doorknob and turns toward me. “Your daggers are being sharpened by the smith, and your clothes . . .” He wrinkles his nose and my neck heats with embarrassment. “Your clothes were long overdue for the trash bin.”

I gape at him as embarrassment quickly flashes into anger. “You threw my clothes away?!”

“Don’t worry.” He shoots me a smug smile. “I made sure to purchase you some new ones, which the lady’s maid down the hall has ready for you after your bath.”

I ignore the way my shoulders melt down at the thought of a warm bath. It’s been far too long since I’ve scrubbed myself clean and I can feel the weight of the oils in my hair.

“I’ll see you downstairs for breakfast once you’re done getting ready. We have a lot to tend to today.” Grayson slips out the door and the handle snicks shut when I realize he said the lady’s maid is down the hall .

“How am I supposed to get down there without my clothes?!” I call out after him. The door remains shut, but I hear the faint echo of laughter that sends a racing chill up my spine.