by Eve Langlais
“I know.” In those two words, she heard so much more. Heard how Cam didn’t want it to be her that Roark hated. How this would help force the separation they both needed. How he loved her.
She reached for him and hugged his big body briefly. “I love you, too, you big oaf. But you have to go. Now.”
“I’ll keep in touch. Be happy.” Cam gave her a short smile then left.
She remained staring until Roark joined her, Charlie on his hip. “Where’d your brother go?”
“Away. I told him you were going to kill him.”
“Call him back. I’m not going to hurt him. He did what I would have done given a chance. Can you tell Casey why?” Roark asked his daughter, shifting her in his grip.
The princess leaned her head on her father’s shoulder. “The first rule of survival is trust no one.”
“That’s right, and if they betray you once…” he said softly.
Charlie finished. “You get rid of them before they can do it again. That’s why you killed my mother.”
He winced. “You know?”
The princess hugged him around the neck. “It’s okay, Papa. I know she was a bad lady. I love you.”
The moisture in the air made Casey’s eyes tear. Thankfully something blew up elsewhere before anyone would notice.
Boom!
The explosion had them eyeing each other.
“I think it’s time to go,” he said.
They raced down the stairs—way too many—and ran into Tanzie waiting at the bottom. They emerged into chaos. A furor had erupted, the street outside filling with people, all of them crying the same thing, “The king is dead.”
Boom! Shake! Shudder!
And it appeared a struggle over power was about to ensue.
It was a man with dark braids across the street who yelled, “Get your arses moving, you lazy lot. We sail tonight!”
“Uncle Darius!” Charlie squealed.
They broke into a jog, Tanzie in the lead, while Roark, carrying his daughter, kept pace. Casey guarded his flank. The pirate greeted them with a grin.
“You little monkey! You gave me the slip,” Darius chided.
“I came to see my aunt before she died.”
Roark stumbled. “Excuse me. How did you know she would die?”
“Because I see it in my sleep.”
When Roark might have stopped to question, Casey put a hand on his arm. “Later, you can explore her gift. Right now, we need to get out of this city before it implodes.”
The sounds of violence increased, as did the gunfire. The smell of smoke in the air didn’t reassure at all.
Casey barely noticed the streets they ran down. The pirate and Tanzie shoved a path through any that might stand in their way.
The port was a grander version of the one she’d seen in the Haven Outpost, comprised of wood and stone docks. A great many metal boats were berthed.
She stared in awe at the one Darius boarded. The princess wriggled free of Roark’s grip and ran ahead, snaring Tanzie’s hand and racing onto the ship.
Whereas Casey hesitated and swallowed. She’d seen an example of what lived in the sea. Seen pictures.
“Maybe I’ll take the road north out of town, instead,” she said, backing away.
“We don’t have time for you to be a coward,” Roark said, a solid presence at her back, his darkness swirling to wrap around her.
“I’m not scared.” She said it, and yet her feet froze to the ground.
“Whatever. Acting more and more like a lady who doesn’t want to get her feet wet each day.” He swept her into his arms.
“Put me down,” she huffed.
“Make me.”
She might have, only he’d started crossing and she could see the water on either side, which meant, if she struggled, she might end up in it. She did slug him when he set her on the deck.
As a crewmember hauled in the plank, she saw Sachi run up the board and leap lightly to the deck.
Darius bellowed orders. “Aquata, unmoor us. Clyde, get in the nest and watch for snipers. Jorah…” The pirate stomped off as the vessel hummed.
Her heart fluttered. It helped to see the princess following Darius to a strange metal cabin atop the deck.
Roark remained with Casey. It took her a moment before she’d gathered herself enough to glance at him and snap, “Did you want to say something?”
He smiled. “If I said forever, would you hit me?”
She froze. It was a big thing to say. A commitment. She’d just gotten out of a long-term sibling one. Did she want to get involved with someone that quickly?
Gazing into his face, she cocked her head and, with a small smile, said, “Yes.” Then hit him. Not hard, though. She cast him a grin over her shoulder as she joined the princess and her uncle.
Apparently, the pirate—having missed the battle in the tower—knew a bit more of what had happened when the city erupted. The king had indeed died, but not of his illness. A knife stuck in his chest was the actual cause of death. The princess was missing, and the duke had declared himself interim leader with his first order being to bring the former Princess Shereen to justice on charges of patricide.
It was a good time to leave.
As they sailed away from the port, Casey did her best to forget the water under her feet. She leaned against a bulkhead. Roark had gone casual and sat in a chair. Sachi deigned to bathe herself in his lap. Charlie bounced all over as Darius guided their ship in a complicated-looking dash.
Only once he declared them, “Out of the bay and not a scratch,” did she almost relax.
Which meant Charlie finally had to face what she’d done.
Her father eyed her and said, “You are in so much trouble. What possessed you to escape? How did you make it here? Do you know how dangerous that could have been?”
“Could have been, bah. The girl has a talent for avoiding trouble.” Darius stuck up for his niece.
“Don’t encourage bad behavior,” Roark snapped.
“I’m sorry, Papa.” The child sniffled.
Whereas Casey snorted. “Don’t apologize. I have to agree with the pirate. A child should be allowed freedom to explore.”
“Explore in a safe manner under supervision. She traveled across the Marshlands alone. She almost got killed.”
“Looks fine to me,” Darius proclaimed. “Not even a scratch, eh, moppet!” He beamed with pride.
“I hope one day you have a daughter. Make that two,” Roark threatened, his gaze narrowed on his brother.
Charlie was the one to make her uncle blanch as she said, “He’s going to have four, actually.”
And when Roark couldn’t stop laughing, Charlie shut him by saying, “You and Casey are going to make me three brothers and two sisters.”
That was when Casey, for the first time in her life, passed out.
Epilogue
“Say it,” Roark cajoled, dangling it out of reach.
“Give,” Casey demanded, reaching for the treasure.
“Not until you say the magic words,” he teased.
“Why can’t you just be happy with please?”
“Please what?”
“Please don’t make me withhold sex from you, Your Majesty.” She cocked her head and held out her hand.
“Was that so hard?”
“Yes,” she hissed.
“It’s worth it, I promise.” Roark handed her the dagger he’d had specially crafted for her. It held some of the bloodthirsty shadow from the tunnels in its hilt. Each bite of life’s force made it stronger.
“Ooh. Shiny,” she exclaimed, stroking it in a way that almost made him jealous except he knew she’d be touching him even more nicely later.
“So I figured out how to get you to say, ‘your majesty.’ What’s it going to take for you to agree to be my wife?”
She wrinkled her nose. “One, we don’t call it that in the Wasteland. It’s called being promised. And two, the answer is still no.”
&n
bsp; “You’re killing me,” he growled.
“If I were, this knife would be in your gut. I am not getting promised to you so that people can start calling me queen. Bad enough they keep saying lady.” She visibly shuddered.
“I will change your mind.” Not by force but by loving her.
She eyed him, naked but for the dagger in her hand and the naughty glint in her eye. “I won’t, but feel free to do your best.”
In the end, he settled for her yelling, “Fine, you win. I love you.”
“Love me what?” he’d asked with another flick of his tongue somewhere sensitive.
“Love you, Roark.” Because in bed, he was just a man worshipping his queen. Maybe later he’d tell her the first of the babies Charlie prophesized was already in her belly. But only after he’d disarmed her first.
After dropping off his brother, Darius briefly headed to the nearest island looking for news. The uprising in the royal section of Port City rippled outward. The king was dead. His daughter missing—probably for the best given it seemed her father was actually murdered. The Enclave fought amongst each other as to who would take over in their stead, with the duke’s declaration being challenged.
The citizens down below wanted nothing to do with their power struggle and declared the port city a democracy and said they would vote for who would be in charge. Which led to even more fighting.
Not a man who enjoyed politics, Darius and his crew made the decision to remain far, far away from the unrest. Far away from the niece who thought she could curse him with daughters. As if he’d settle down.
Never.
Since the wine selection in his room had dwindled, he headed down to the cache in the storage room. The door initially stuck when he pulled on it. A mighty heave yanked it free and he found himself face to face with the biggest blue eyes, almost the same turquoise as the ocean he loved. He knew those eyes. Recognized that face because he’d seen it once before in person.
He groaned. “Oh no.”
But denying it didn’t change the fact that stowed away in the belly of his ship was the Princess Shereen. The woman everyone was looking for. The one with a price on her head, worth even more if brought back dead.
So many choices and ways to make some money.
But then she said the one thing even a pirate couldn’t refuse.
“Help me.”
Can the Iron Pirate save a princess with a price on her head?
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