Page 52 of Virelai’s Hoard (The Dagger & Tide Trilogy #1)

Calla

Calla sat by the edge of the bed, staring at the passed out figure invading her space.

It had been half a day since they’d made it back on the Moonshadow, and Riley still hadn’t woken.

Her breaths were so shallow that Calla felt compelled to check her pulse every few moments.

Other compulsions battled within her, too, as alien as her webbed hands and too smooth fingers.

She’d barely let Haddock, or anyone, look at Riley before she’d taken her down to her cabin. To her bed. To tend to her herself. A few months ago, even a few bells ago, she would’ve been appalled at her own behavior.

But nothing was normal anymore.

The locked chest at the foot of her bed was empty. Her skin, the source of so much anguish and hatred, was gone. Mere confirmation of something she already knew.

Virelai’s Hoard was gone, too. Buried beneath the sea.

Calla hadn’t dared look in a mirror yet. She looked at Riley instead. Patch was sleeping soundly, curled up in the nape of her neck. Whatever had happened between the two of them, the rat had forgiven her.

Calla could not.

Being rid of her skin was what she’d wanted–but not like this.

She could never step off the Moonshadow again looking like this .

She’d just wanted to be human, and now she was neither selkie nor human, but something else.

Something other. She’d seen it in the eyes of her crew.

As soon as they hit land, most of them would leave.

They could stomach her being a selkie when they looked at her human form and could pretend that was all she was, but now her nature would slap them in the face every time she walked amongst them.

She’d wanted freedom, and now her prison was more suffocating than it had ever been.

And Riley, this reckless, infuriating woman, had nearly given her life for it.

Had paid for something Calla didn’t even want.

Instead of being grateful, Calla felt the sharp edge of resentment curling inside her stomach like a tide refusing to recede.

At the same time, worry had her lungs in a chokehold.

She’d tried to wash the marks out of Riley’s hands while she waited for her to wake up, but they stayed unchanged, like ink under the skin.

Riley’s fingers twitched in her hold, and Calla immediately let go of her hand. When had she taken it? What was happening to her?

Jaw locked tight, she watched the woman in her bed stir, shift, her arm curling around Patch instinctively. Eventually, she opened her eyes.

“You’re awake.”

Riley blinked up at Calla, her features twisting in confusion.

Calla remained quiet as she let Riley look at her, her eyes flickering between Calla’s face, her neck, her hands.

Then, slowly, Riley sat up and looked down at her own hands.

She twisted them in the blanket on her lap, wincing as if the movement hurt.

“Yeah.” Riley’s voice was rough, barely there.

Calla stood and brought over a cup of water, held it out.

As soon as the water hit her lips, Riley took deep, breathless gulps. When she was done, she set the cup in her lap, fingers curling around it as she looked down. “Sable?” she asked.

“She left,” Calla said, the words a stab to her chest. “With the Heart. Kittredge is gone, too. We think she went after her.”

Riley exhaled, running a hand down her face. “Shit.”

Yeah. Shit.

Silence stretched between them, long and uncomfortable.

Then, quietly, Riley asked, “Are we going after them?”

Calla looked at Riley then. Really looked at her. “We?”

Riley swallowed, then nodded, not meeting her gaze. “If you’ll have me. Captain.”

“Yes,” Calla said thoughtfully, looking out at the porthole. “We are.” She was tasting the words in her mouth, seeing how they felt.

Among everything, this was the only thing that felt right.