Chapter 43
Clutching the rails of the quarterdeck, I kept my eyes open as I stared at the choppy steel-blue waters of the Stroud Sea. It hadn’t been bad when the ship first left the shores of Atlantia and drifted seamlessly through the mist. The gentle swaying of the ship had been kind of a fun experience.
But then we’d cleared the mist, and all there was were the deep blue waters that stretched for as far as I could see. It looked as if the sea kissed the sky. I’d thought closing my eyes would help.
Nope.
That was much worse because without my eyes open to confirm that I was indeed standing straight and steady, I felt like I was falling.
What had Perry claimed not too long ago? That I would gain my sea legs in no time? I didn’t think that would happen at all. The small crew who worked the riggings of the masts made it all seem so easy.
“Please don’t vomit,” Kieran said.
I glanced over at him, my eyes narrowing. He’d joined me the moment Casteel had left my side to speak with Delano and Perry on the helm. “I cannot make that promise.”
He chuckled as he turned his face to the sky and the last of the sun. “Well, if you do, please aim for over the railing.”
“I’ll make sure I aim for your face,” I retorted.
That got another laugh from the wolven. My grip on the railing tightened as I turned back to the sea. “You know,” he started, “it might help if you stopped looking at the water.”
“I’ve tried that.” I forced a dry swallow. “It did not help.”
“Then you need to be distracted,” he replied.
“And it’s a good thing I excel at the art of distraction,” Casteel said, striding up behind us. He reached around, peeling my death grip from the railing. “Come,” he said, leading me away as the breeze rippled across his loose white shirt and tossed about the waves of his hair.
“Have fun,” Kieran called out.
“Shut up,” I snapped, walking stiffly beside Casteel.
Perry and Delano waved at us as Casteel guided me to the stairs that led down into the cabins. It was dimly lit belowdecks, and I’d only been below for a short period of time earlier to try and eat something, but I had found the floors of the stately cabin we’d been given just as unsteady as the ones above.
Casteel opened the door, and I inched my way in. Everything was bolted down. The table and two chairs. The bare surface of a wide, wooden desk. The wardrobe. The wide bed in the center of the cabin. The clawfoot tub. The standing dressing mirror and vanity. Even the gas lamps were secured. He led me to the desk.
“Take a seat,” he said, and I started to sit in the chair in front of the desk, but he tsked softly under his breath. Letting go of my hand, he grasped my hips and lifted me onto the desk.
My heart gave a silly little tumble at the show of strength as he opened one of the cabin windows. I was neither small nor dainty, but he often made me feel that way. I watched him pick up one of the bags we’d brought with us and place it by the desk.
“You were about to take my seat.” He returned, taking the chair directly in front of me.
I raised an eyebrow as I gripped the edge of the desk, and he tapped my booted calf, motioning for me to lift my leg. “What are you up to?” I asked.
“Distracting you.” He tugged off the boot, letting it fall with a thump to the floor.
I watched him remove my other boot and then my thick socks. “I think I know what you’re up to, but not even that will distract me from the fact that everything feels like it’s swaying, and we could capsize at any second.”
His brows lifted as he looked up at me. “First off, you should have way more faith in my skills when it comes to distracting you,” he said, and I immediately thought of the night in the Blood Forest. My skin flushed. “And the boat capsizing is not what is going to happen next.”
“What is?” I asked as his palms slid up my legs.
“I’m going to do what I wanted to last evening and fuck you on this desk,” he told me, and muscles low in my stomach clenched.
“This isn’t a table.”
“It’ll work.” He gripped the waist of my breeches. “But first, I’m hungry.”
The breath I took caught. “Then you should retrieve something to eat.”
“I have.”
My face caught fire.
Blazing, golden eyes locked with mine. “Lift your ass, my Queen.”
A giggle crept free. “That is a sentence that sounds wholly inappropriate.”
He grinned, and a hint of a dimple appeared. “I’m sorry. Let me rephrase that. Please lift your ass, my Queen.”