Page 58 of Wicked Tides #1

Dahlia

There is no curse so great

as seeing a future you cannot have

or a past you cannot change

~Alisaen Ducroix

“Where is your sweet admirer?” I said, announcing my presence as I neared Vidar’s makeshift camp.

He glanced my way and I was struck by his firelit brown eyes. His mouth curved into a smirk as if my question pleased him in some way.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he played.

“You do. You only danced with one girl tonight.”

“She’s sleeping, like all the rest, I suspect.”

“Your men are being hauled off like corpses to their cabins. Seems they cannot hold their drink when it is made by foreign hands.”

I stood beside him, looking up at the carvings to find he was studying a set of figures hunting a massive whale with tiny boats and spears.

Nearby, a carving of the sirens swimming in a skryll beneath a canoe led to other carvings deeper in.

I didn’t know what to say. I was certain the depictions were as confusing and foreign to Vidar as they were to me.

We both just stared at them, likely thinking the same things.

“The world has been making less sense to me since you slithered back into it,” Vidar finally said, sighing as he stepped over to a stone and sat himself down.

He jammed the torch down between two rocks, standing it at an angle before he perched his elbows on his knees.

That’s when I noticed his leather folder full of drawings on top of another stone and the charcoal stains on his fingers.

He’d been copying the images from the wall onto his own paper for safekeeping.

I found another stone suitable for sitting across from him and took a seat, watching the firelight make flickering shadows on the walls.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked.

“I knew there was more on these walls than you let on. I needed to see it.”

“Always searching for new knowledge.”

“Always.”

“Why learn about us when you just intend to kill us?”

“I take it you’ve never heard the saying, ‘Know thine enemy,’ before.” I shrugged in response. “My father thought he knew his enemies. It got a lot of men killed.”

My eyes wandered for a moment, thinking back on that day. “I didn’t know my enemy, either. I didn’t know how cunning he could be until I unlocked his little cage.”

“Deep down, we both know we cannot blame each other for what happened that day.”

“And yet we’ve held onto it for eighteen years, letting it kill us and keep us alive at the same time.”

Vidar scrubbed his face, taking another long look at the walls of the tunnel.

“Well, it’s been exhausting. I’m here to make sense of things,” he sighed, picking up a stick and breaking off little pieces to toss in the flames of his campfire.

“What things are you trying to make sense of? ”

“You, for starters. You defy everything I’ve ever known. It was all black and white before I saw you on that cursed island. Sirens were creatures of evil. We were the ones to rid the world of them. Deep down, I knew you weren’t like the rest. Not yet. And I used that to my advantage to survive.”

“I am like the rest now.”

He snorted, running a hand over his hair. “I’ve never met a daughter of the sea that has to convince herself so often that she is awful.”

“Awful creatures can do good things and still be awful.”

“Then I am no less awful than you. You, Dahlia, are an enigma. Born from the vilest creatures to ever rule the seas and yet you released a boy from a cage so he would not get eaten. You saved young girls from men and sailed with your greatest enemy to see them to safety. You freed my… David from certain death when you could have let him drown to spite me.”

“Are you here to reason that I am a virtuous person under the ugliness, Vidar?” I said, glimpsing the walls. “Do you see these carvings and wonder if I am not the monster you’ve always thought me to be because the Maruhk somehow avoid war with humans?”

He tossed his stick into the flames with a groan and shook his head. “Perhaps I am.”

“The Maruhk are sirens, but they are not the Kroan. Just like your nuns and priests are human, but they are not hunters.”

“And what are you?”

Our eyes locked and I opened my mouth to defend myself only to find that words had abandoned me. I was no more Kroan than he was. I was nothing. I was just… me.

I understood myself just about as much as Vidar did. After the time I’d spent with him and his crew and with the girls, I was starting to think it felt nice not to be looked at like an evil menace.

“You should go back. It is cold out here,” he said flatly.

“I don’t need—"

“I know. Your warmth is deep, as you said. ”

I pulled my coat tighter around me, leaning in toward the heat of the flames.

“My warmth is deep,” I spoke, pausing a moment to wonder if I should go on. “My heart is even deeper.” I lifted my eyes to meet Vidar’s again, a knot in my chest making it hard to think. “But it’s there, I assure you. Buried beneath armor far thicker than your own.”

I lost myself in his eyes and he in mine as if some thin shroud had been lifted and our vision was clearing. Vidar was the first to divert his gaze only to toss another stick into the flames. A flurry of red sparks flew up between us.

He cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Would you ever tell me how to get through that armor?”

My stare remained on his face, which had become blurred by smoke. “No.”

He smirked faintly. “So, I’ll have to figure it out on my own then.”

Finally, I let my eyes fall to the fire. “I fear that you will,” I said so softly, I wondered if he could hear.

When Vidar stopped poking at the fire, I knew he understood. I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze again for some time after those words had slipped. Not only did I fear what he would think of them, but I feared the weakness I had just exposed.

When I could finally bring myself to look up, Vidar was leaning forward on a long stick, his hands overlapping the top of it for him to rest his chin.

He was just staring at me, no readable expression on his face for me to scrutinize.

I cocked my head to the side, admiring the strong angle of his jaw.

The quirk on his lips. The strength of his cheekbones and brow.

Then that young woman slipped back into my memory and a wave of uncomfortable heat roiled in me. I narrowed my eyes at him and when he noticed, he raised a brow.

“What are you thinking about, Dahlia?” he whispered.

“That woman you were dancing with. Do you desire her? ”

He set his stick aside and slowly unfolded from the stone, coming to his full height. I stood, wanting to be on equal ground as he stepped toward me.

“What if I did?” he said. My jaw tightened at the idea. “She was beautiful, was she not? Young. Human. And she has never wanted to kill me. Or eat me, for that matter.”

I took in a deep breath, but that only filled my lungs with Vidar. The heat inside me was both irritated and desperate and it sickened me to think I had no control over it.

“Why would you care about what I think of her if I did go to her tonight?” Vidar added.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” I confessed, stilling myself as he moved in closer to me.

His head canted to the side. “Why would you hurt her?”

I peered up at him, pleading silently for him to understand. The mere thought of him wanting her made my fists clench. I swallowed down any response I might have given him and watched as the realization dawned on his face.

“I do not even know her name,” he finally confessed, his eyes dropping to my mouth in a way that made my body shudder with excitement. “Dahlia,” he emphasized, his hand slowly coming up to slide around the back of my neck.

He fisted my hair and tugged, pulling my head back.

The burn that radiated across my scalp at the pressure made me gasp as I was yanked against the heat of his body.

Could I have fought him and pushed him off of me?

Yes. But that nearness was something I’d been wanting for days.

Ever since he’d cleansed me of my guilt with harsh and rewarding pain.

Ever since it was his hands that pulled me from the edge of the ship and kept me from jumping into the sea where the sons were waiting, I’d wanted them on me again.

I wanted to say it, but the confession felt like defeat and stayed lodged like a piece of glass in my throat.

Vidar’s other hand slid up to grasp my jaw .

“Do you want me?” he whispered, his lips hovering over mine. I thought he would kiss me before he suddenly twisted us around and slammed me against the cold, hard barrier of the cave wall. “Or do you just hate the idea of another having me?”

“Perhaps I do. But if I am to confess something so outrageous, perhaps you can divulge why you stole me from the railing the other night when I was about to surrender to the sons. You could have been rid of me. So why’d you do it?”

“That is easy. You called to me.”

“Did I?”

One hand released my hair, sliding down my body, through the opening of my coat, to the drawstring of my leggings.

I pressed my hands to his chest, but I did not shove him away when he slid past the waistband and delved between my legs.

My heart was racing at his touch. I parted for him, unsurprised that he found me wanting and wet.

“I imagined it, then,” he said, his fingers parting my folds. “What wonderful timing.”

“Why did you pull me back?”

“Why would you want to hurt a woman simply for dancing with me?”

Two of his fingers slid into my entrance, stretching me around him. I gasped when his hand closed over my throat and squeezed. Heat enveloped my body, coiling deep inside as his fingers thrust up inside me again.

It was exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to touch me. Hurt me. I wanted his attention, as pathetic as it was. I wanted his eyes on me and his hands against my flesh. I clutched his coat in my fists and dragged him closer, spreading my legs as he played against my clit with his thumb.