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Chapter Thirteen

I t took three men to load the trunks full of gowns and jewelry onto the ship bound for Tenebris. One shipman groaned loudly as he hefted the last case, his face red with exertion. I shot a sharp look at Nessira and Samsa, who stood off to the side, barely concealing their grins.

“I thought it best to bring options for you,” Nessira said with an unapologetic shrug. “A woman should look impressive when she meets her future husband.”

My stomach churned at her words.

While I longed to leave the kingdom and explore new parts of the world, especially now when I was eager to put some distance between my friends and me, this trip wasn’t about adventure. Its sole purpose was to meet my betrothed, Veric, and bring him back to Athenia for us to be wed.

I had spent the past few days since the Dragon’s announcement wondering what Veric would be like. Would he be as cruel as his uncle? Would he resemble Clay in any way? Would he find me pleasant—or utterly unremarkable? And what would I think of him?

Would he find me attractive?

Did that even matter?

No. Of course it didn’t.

We had a duty to fulfill, and my feelings—and his—were irrelevant .

“It’s time to board, ladies!” the captain called. “We’re just waiting for one more passenger.”

I frowned, confused. “Who else is joining us?”

“I am.”

I never imagined two words could fill me with such immediate frustration.

I spun on my heels, my boots crunching against the frozen dock. Clay stood a few feet away, dressed down in simple trousers and a thick coat suitable for the voyage. Behind him, a palace servant struggled to balance the trunk he was carrying.

“Absolutely not!” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

“You don’t have a say in the matter,” Clay replied, his eyebrow arching in challenge. “I have business to attend to in Tenebris, and this happens to be the most convenient option for me to get there.”

His smile was infuriatingly cocky, and I had to resist the overwhelming urge to slap it off his face.

“And your wife ?” I asked coldly. “Will she be joining us?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nessira shift uncomfortably. She inclined her head toward Samsa, silently instructing the girl to board the ship.

Clay’s eyes flashed golden, his smile faltering for a brief moment before he replied, his voice low. “Elaina, my betrothed, will not be joining us. It’s just you and me, princess.”

“And me!” Nessira cut in brightly, linking her arm tightly with mine. “There is much to do to prepare you for meeting your betrothed, my Lady. You and I will spend most of our time together while we sail.”

Her words were a clear warning. If Clay wanted to get to me, he’d have to go through her first. I don’t know how I got so lucky as to be assigned Nessira as my lady-in-waiting, but I was going to thank the Gods for her every night for the rest of my life .

As we turned and made our way to the ramp of the ship I leaned my head gratefully against her shoulder. “Thank you.”

She sighed, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

Behind us, Clay said nothing. He trailed after us in silence, his presence a heavy weight I couldn’t ignore.

T urns out I wasn’t just bad at drawing; I wasn’t a particularly good sailor either.

The boat lurched to the left over a wave, and I heaved dryly once more. My stomach had emptied itself hours ago, leaving me to cough miserably over the side of the wooden railing.

“Oh dear,” Samsa murmured, patting a damp cloth on my forehead. “Is there nothing I can do for you, my Lady?”

“Do you think I’m powerful enough to lift the boat out of the water and float it steadily all the way to Tenebris?”

I wasn’t. I’d already tried that a few days ago when the first wave of seasickness convinced me I might die before arriving. It had only been three days on this cursed vessel, and there was no way I was going to survive the rest of the journey.

“You’ll get yer sea legs soon enough, milady,” a sailer said to me. “Takes some time, but ye’ll settle, eventually.”

“You said that yesterday, Cerl.”

“And I might say it again tomorrow at this rate.” He grinned toothily .

I wanted to respond, but the boat rocked once more, and I flopped my head heavily over the side again. This torment might actually be worse than Camilla’s shadow monsters nipping at my skin.

“Thea.” Clay’s voice sounded from behind me. “Come.”

Not a request from a friend.

An order from a Prince.

One I couldn’t feasibly say no to.

Nessira’s stomach had turned out to be just as weak as mine, so she hadn’t been able to help steer him away from me after all.

I’d avoided him for most of the trip through an array of excuses, ranging from needing to relieve myself to a sudden fascination with the mechanics of ocean navigation.

And the only good thing about my raging nausea was that it had kept most people away from me, including the prince.

Until now.

“No,” I groaned, unable to collect my thoughts enough to think of a new reason to escape his presence.

“Now.”

Once my stomach had settled, I was going to give him a piece of my mind. If it ever settled, that is.

Pulling myself off the rail, I followed him downstairs to the chamber he’d been occupying during the journey. It was a small space with a simple single-person bed and a tiny wooden desk cluttered with open books and notes.

Clay avoided my gaze as he shut the door and locked us into the tight, damp space. He was in a vicious mood. He radiated irritation, and I had no doubt that he was angry with me for having stopped talking to him. Did he really expect us to proceed as we had been, though?

Did he expect me to carry on treating him as my friend even though every time I looked at him I pictured another woman’s hand in his ?

He went straight to the desk, gathering the parchments and tossing them into his trunk in exchange for a single candle. Without a word, he exhaled a quick burst of dragon fire, igniting the wick so that its flame flickered dimly between us.

“Make it float,” he instructed, holding it in the air between us.

For a moment, I was back on that terrace with him.

He held the rose out to me, flat on his palm between us. A thornless rose, pulled from the shadows and held between a Descendant of Zion and a Descendant of Hyrax.

“What were you feeling?” he asked.

“Afraid,” I whispered, acutely aware that even though I was alone with the Crown Prince—a man who had been nothing but ill-tempered with me—I didn’t feel afraid anymore.

I shook my head violently to clear the memory away. “Clay—”

“Just trust me, Thea.”

I glared at him. My trust was something he had lost the second Elaina answered his door.

He sighed and threw back his head, as if realizing how disastrous his own words were the second they left his mouth. “Please.”

Gods.

My wretched heart had the audacity to flip when he said “please,” as if it refused to understand reason.

Although, it always had refused reason when it came to him.

I’d fallen for Clay even though I knew it was wrong, even though we both knew it was wrong, and now my cursed heart was going to have to deal with the pain that came with that recklessness.

Wordlessly, I lifted my hand, grasping the candle magically and holding it steady in the air.

“Good.” He moved to stand behind me.

Too close behind me .

I could feel the warmth radiating off his body, like an embrace around me. Slowly, his hands reached toward my wrists, holding them with a feather-light grip as he traced small circles on my skin.

His touch was far too soft and far too personal.

Warmth radiated down my spine, my body already softening and breath hitching. I felt my pulse like a steady drumbeat throughout my body. He was only touching my wrists, and that small touch was all I could think about.

“No,” I protested, attempting to pull away even as my voice betrayed the effect he was having on me

“If you drop that candle,” his voice was nothing more than a whisper against the shell of my ear. “This entire ship will go up in flames.”

I gasped, realizing at the last second that my loss of focus had left the candle falling toward the wooden floorboards of the ship.

My power lashed out, grasping it in the nick of time and raising it back into its position in the air.

Clay only laughed and returned his fingertips to my wrist, beginning to trail them up the insides of my arm.

His fingers climbed further, their touch impossibly slow and tender. He traced the bare skin of my collarbone before resting his hands on my shoulders. When his thumbs pressed into the tender flesh there and began moving in firm circles, I almost moaned aloud.

Dear Gods.

“What are you doing?” I asked, hating how breathy my voice sounded.

Despite all the reasons I was angry with him, I was entirely unable to stop myself from relaxing under his touch as he began massaging out the tension I’d been carrying in my shoulders since first discovering my unavoidable seasickness. Somehow, that made me even angrier.

“I’m distracting you,” he whispered, lips tickling my ear. “And I think it’s working. ”

Well, yes. He was certainly distracting. With every delicious circle of his thumbs against my shoulders, my stomach quieted until the only feeling left for me to focus on was the heat in my lower abdomen and my irritation at feeling it.

Traitorous heart.

Traitorous body.

I didn’t want to be so consumed by Clayton Vail, but he was my light in a midnight world. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, helpless to do anything other than fall hopelessly for him.

“You’re wicked.”

“You have no idea princess, but one day I am going to show you just how wicked I can be.” He reached across my neck to pull my hair back. I shivered at the sensation of his fingers trailing across the delicate skin. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I’m sure you could convince me to distract you another way.” His voice was thick with double meaning. “I would be more than happy to oblige you.”