“Part of earning that trust,” Thomas said, “means you don’t stand idly by while others fight. You have a duty to protect your own life, and I expect you to fulfill it.”
She gripped the staff close to her chest. Hadn’t she just protected herself and Theryn?
Something else burned beneath Thomas’s warning. A deep anger edging his tone. When she met his eyes, their depths sliced her to the core. He blamed her for Mather’s death. If Theryn had died, she doubted even Jon could have stopped Thomas from pitching her overboard.
“Time to work.” Thomas placed his feet shoulder-width apart. “Hit me as hard as you can.”
She clenched the staff, a deep ache burning in her chest.
“Come on, Jàden,” Theryn shouted. “Kick his ass.”
The others laughed at the words and added their jeers.
Releasing a held breath, she closed her eyes and swung the stick, hitting his solid form. She froze on contact and cracked an eye open. The tip of the staff pressed against his shoulder.
“I said hit me.” Thomas’ voice grew sharper.
“You feel anything, Thomas? I sure didn’t see anything.” Theryn leaned against the rail, a woman to either side of him.
Jàden hunched her shoulders and pulled the staff back then swung it again, hitting further down his arm.
“I said hit me!”
She jumped then swung as hard as she could, the wild movement slamming the staff across Thomas’ jaw. Her mouth fell open. “I’m sorry! I—”
“About damn time.” Thomas ripped the staff from her hands and swung.
Jàden flinched and shielded her head.
He stopped a hair’s breadth from her neck. “That’s how you fight. All your strength into every hit because you never know which one’s going to be the last.”
He smacked the staff against her burn. “Again.”
She seethed under the fiery sting in her hip. He’d smacked it dozens of times over the past few weeks, always saying the same thing over and over.
“You fight with the pain, or you die.”
The crew laughed. Made fun of her. Shouted comments to both her and Thomas as he put her through an excruciating training regime.
Every inch of her body burned, ached and throbbed. Sweat poured down her neck, under her arms. All the while, Jon watched, never speaking a word. The jeers were easy to ignore; she’d spent two years taunted by Frank. But Jon’s silence was getting under her skin.
“Pay attention.” Thomas stripped the staff from her hand and slapped it against her shoulder.
The hit stung.
“Sorry,” she muttered when he handed it back. She wiped a hand across her brow, sweat and cold drizzle making her palms slick. Her eyelids were heavy and her stomach growled, but she held the staff tight.
She pulled back to swing.
But Jon caught her wrist. “Not like that.”
He moved directly behind her, sliding her hands along the staff until she held a wider grip. Jon pressed her shoulders down, moved her arms into a stronger alignment, then grabbed her hips and shifted her stance.
Fire ached in her gut from the intimacy of his touch. She held her breath, barely able to focus with Jon standing so close.
“Like this.” His breath blew across her ear, raising bumps on her skin.
“Don’t swing with your arms. Use the power within your body.” He laid his hands over hers and slammed the staff forward, straight into Thomas’ jaw.
Thomas stumbled away, holding his cheek. “You fucking ass.”
Laughter erupted across the deck.
Jàden clenched the staff, Jon’s warmth enveloping her hands.
“Feel the speed,” Jon said. “The power coiled in the movement, not in your grip.”
But the only power she craved in that moment was Jon’s mouth against hers. She dropped her eyes, biting down on her lower lip so no one could see her longing.
“That’s enough for tonight.” Jon released her and stepped away. “Get the other horses handled. Then go rest.”
And like that he ignored her again.
The horses were already bedded for the night, so that was one thing she didn’t need to do. Clenching her jaw in frustration, she handed the staff to Thomas before disappearing below deck. Dressing her wounds, she dug into her gear for a fresh blanket and retreated to her sleeping space. Picking up the thin wool coverlet, she frowned at the datapad nestled beneath. Exhausted by Thomas’s aggressive training schedule, she’d forgotten all about it.
Jàden rifled through Jon’s saddle bags for a firemark. Curling up with the blanket around her shoulders, she pushed away thoughts of returning to Jon’s side. Maybe a woman would seek out his company, though that needled a jealous pang into Jàden’s heart.
But Kale always had a way of making her smile, and tonight she needed to see his face. Jàden pressed the glass orb into the small indention on the front of the datapad.
Violet light traced across the seams and lit the screen. She pressed her thumb to the bottom corner so it could read her biometrics.
“All right, Kale. I need a little help here.”
CHAPTER 26
The Lonely Sea
Pain shot into Jon’s leg as the ship crashed over a swell. Éli’s sword had cut deep, and the sting lingered long after he’d sewn the opening back together. He considered heating his knife to burn the wound closed, but he welcomed the ache to distract him from thoughts of Jàden.
Jon smoked the last of his cigarette and tossed it over the side as laughter erupted from the women near Theryn.
He was in no mood for it, mostly because he so desperately wanted his wife tonight. To pull Jàden into his arms and smell the sweetness of her skin against his. He still hadn’t told her the truth about their bond, but she seemed persistent that their connection was only shared energy.
Jon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He should be resting too, but Jàden’s steady breath on his skin about drove him mad. If he went below deck now, he may not be able to resist his desperate need to kiss her. Guardians be damned, he hadn’t had a woman affect him so much in years. Maybe ever.
“You’re different.” Snow scattered across Malcolm’s beard as he lit up a pipe and leaned against the rail. Mist rose off the barren, watery landscape that stretched to darkness in every direction. “I thought it was the mountains at first, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Nothing’s changed.” Jon breathed in the frigid sea air. It kept him sharp. Kept him from hastening below deck and doing something stupid. He popped the firemark out of the strange black weapon Jàden found, the seams of color going dark.
Malcolm chewed on the stem of his pipe. “Known you far too many years, son. I daresay your mind is more occupied these days with that woman.”
The wind blew flurries across each swelling wave. Jon scratched his chin, a rock in his chest hardening. As much as he wanted to deny it, Malcolm wasn’t wrong. “We need to find this Kale fellow quick. He and I have a few things to sort out.”
A scream ripped across the night.
Jon whipped around to Jàden shouting at the sky with a slim silver block in her hand. Whatever had triggered her this time ripped through their bond, a wave of rage speeding up the rhythm of his heart.
“You fucking bastard, Frank!” She scrambled for the rail and chucked the silver item into the sea. Jàden climbed the wood planking as if she planned to jump over.
Jon pocketed the items in his hand and raced across the deck. Fire surged in his veins, a sharp indicator that she was about to release her magic, as he grabbed her around the waist to pull her back. The last thing he needed was his men and horses dead at the bottom of the sea.
“Leave me alone!” She twisted in his arms like a terrified child.
“Relax,” Jon whispered in her ear.
“I saw him.” She tried to squirm away. “Let me go.”
“You’re safe, Jàden.” The s
mell of the sea clung to her hair, but beneath that lay a hint of fresh flowers after a fall rain, a scent Jon identified as solely hers. His chest tightened at the strong warmth in her frail body—he didn’t want to let her go.
“I’ll never be safe.” Jàden screamed the words, but she had no fight left. She collapsed against his chest as sobs wracked her. “I saw them. They’re going to find us.”
Jon held her tight against his chest. Only one thing made Jàden lose control of herself: the men who tortured her. Flashes of her screams from the glass sheets rippled through his thoughts. He was going to kill those men.
He leaned his cheek against her head. “Come with me.”
Away from the eyes of Naréa and her crew. They’d already witnessed too much of Jàden’s eccentric behavior, and the whispers about it only increased with each passing day. Some of the women wanted to pitch Jàden overboard and let her drown—they didn’t like unpredictable passengers.
Jon guided her down the stairs and back to her sleeping spot. As he passed Thomas, he gestured a few silent commands with his hand. Wake everyone. Be alert.
Thomas nodded and quietly began waking the others.
Each time Jàden went into a panic, something bad happened. Jon leaned against the wall and pulled her to his chest, gently soothing her hair away from her temple.
“He knew,” she whispered. Jàden curled her arms over her head and sobbed against him. “Kale knew he was going to die.”
Jon closed his eyes, the ache to protect her so strong he had an itch to draw his sword. Instead, he slid his hand into the hair curling her neck.
Jàden was his, not Kale’s.
With that thought, he embraced her tighter. He had to tell her the truth about their bond, that the day she tied her magic to him, she’d made him a husband. All his life he craved what his parents had, a strong connection with a lover. Jon craved intimate moments of peace, no matter how the world swirled its anger. He wanted a life away from the Tower, a family of his own, and yet people treated him the same—as if he were a terrifying predator.
But Jàden wasn’t afraid of him.
He spoke softly to her again, hoping to ease some of her pain. “We’ll be at the boundary soon.”
“Kale said it wasn’t my fault, but it was. So many people died because of me—Kale, my grandparents, the other experiments. Some of them at least.”
She had to stop beating herself up. Jon had seen her on the glass sheets, the torture and the cages. How she screamed and doubled over, unable to move, as if some invisible force held her pinned to the ground. A sea of white, just like she’d yelled about in the mountains.
Yet as he tried to comfort her, he listened for any off sound—anything to alert him to danger.
Andrew edged into sight and gestured silently: two below, others on deck.
He nodded and ticked his head to tell Andrew to go. With his men awake and alert, he could relax a few more minutes.
Jon slid his hand along her jaw and tilted her head toward him. “None of this is your fault. Put the past behind you and focus on what’s in your life right now.”
It was the only way to live, in the present, especially with enemies tracking their every move. Guardians knew, Jon was calling the kettle black—he still couldn’t stop blaming himself for what happened to his family or for Mather’s death, but he couldn’t bear the sorrow etched in her dark eyes.
“You’re not alone, Jàden.”
Jon traced his thumb down to the corner of her mouth and leaned in, aching to show Jàden she had him, and not just as a protector.
Tears flooded her eyes again as she tightened her grip on his shirt. “Always alone. Isn’t that what you said?”
As her stinging words rolled over him, he froze barely a breath from her mouth. Jon sighed, the hurt in her voice touching the ache he carried with him through each day of his life: refusal.
She was still in love with a dead man, and he would never be more than second best. He pulled back a fraction, his muscles taut to hide the pain. If only he could make her see how much she still clung to that dead lover of hers, a man who would never again exist the way he did in her head. Maybe she needed more time to grieve, or she might never let him go.
But Jon wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
Clenching his jaw to find the right words, a soft noise bumped the outer hull of the barge. He snapped to alertness, lifting his head away from Jàden and cocking it toward the outer wall. The merest hint of a voice caught his attention, and he reluctantly released her and put his ear to the wood.
Another bump—this one louder. There should be nothing but sea to the horizon. He pulled Jàden toward the other end of the stall and peeked around the corner.
“What’s happening?” she whispered, clinging tighter to him.
The corridor beyond their sleeping space was too quiet, but the horses were alert, their ears forward.
“Son of a…” Jon slipped the metal weapon from his waistband and pressed it into her hands. “Someone’s boarding us. Take this and stay near the horses. You’re the only one who knows how to use it anyway.”
She reached into his pocket for the firemark, her fingers brushing his leg.
Jon barely stifled a groan as he unsheathed his daggers. “Stay here. I’m going to pitch these assholes overboard.”
He grabbed her chin. “No magic. Unless you have no other choice.”
No way was he going to stop her from saving his men again, but this time Jon was determined to get rid of the problem himself.
He leaned in close to her ear. “Always alone. I was talking about me.”
CHAPTER 27
The Lonely Sea
Jàden’s gut ignited with heat as Jon’s beard prickled against her cheek. By the light of the Guardians, she needed to feel this man’s kiss, and she’d just had to open her big mouth when he’d tried. The change in his demeanor was instantaneous, from gentle and intimate to steel in his eyes and body coiled like a viper.
Something knocked again on the ship’s outer hull, and Jon disappeared to the inner corridor.
She cursed under her breath and slammed the firemark into the gun. Violet light bled through the seams from the butt to the tip of the barrel, powering up her shots.
She pressed her head to the gun, another wave of fresh sobs gripping her chest.
Kale was really gone, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to bring him back. She’d only wanted to see his face and feel like she wasn’t fighting for a dead dream.
But Jàden would never be able to erase the video of Frank Kale in full Guild Command regalia speaking at his son’s funeral, talking about how Kale’s urn only held a piece of the ship as there was nothing left of his body. As if he actually cared about his son.
“Fucking traitor,” she muttered, jabbing the rear sight repeatedly against her forehead.
“Oh, little darlin’.” Frank’s deep voice reverberated from the top deck. “Three warm bodies inside the hull. Do I shoot one down or start with these bastards on their knees?”
A shudder raced from the top of her head to the burning ache inside her gut.
Frank would keep coming after her, and she had no one left.
Kale wasn’t able to protect her anymore, and she couldn’t hide under the covers and hope the bad man went away. She pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress a scream of frustration.
Courage cannot awaken without fear, Jàden, Kale’s voice whispered in her thoughts.
Terror squeezed her throat like a vice. He’d always wanted her to understand that it was okay to be afraid, but now that fear was all she knew.
I have two rules: stay dry and stay alive. This time it was Thomas in her head, his sharp tone needling her body to move. To fight. But she didn’t want to be alive anymore, not if her future lay trapped between glass walls. She should tell Thomas to fuck off and just drown herself beneath the waves, cradled in the embrace of her bonded moon.
>
But a hint of Jon’s scent filled her nose, his heat clinging to her cheeks. Put the past behind you and focus on what’s in your life right now.
Jon. She had her protector. The strength in his blood rippled through their tied energy. He was up there somewhere with Frank, except Jon wouldn’t have a gun. As strong as he and his men were, they only had their smarts and steel weapons while Frank had an arsenal of firepower at his disposal.
Without Jon, she really would be better off dead. She couldn’t lose him too.
But as the heat from his embrace, the closeness of his mouth, washed over her again, Jàden lowered the gun to her side and peeked around the stall. Time to show her courage.
As the large object bumped the hull again, a scuffle broke out on deck, followed by gunfire.
Her shoulders bunched up tight, but she had to protect Jon.
Theryn’s muffled voice filtered below, and by his cocky tone, he was probably going to get everyone killed.
A single shot fired, and tears slid down her cheeks.
She couldn’t be responsible for another death. Jàden held the sight to her eye the way Kale showed her years ago, but nothing moved in the outer corridor. If Frank really was monitoring heat signatures, he’d be able to see by her stance exactly where she was.
His voice washed over her from the deck again, loud and clear. “I have a secret, darlin’. Wanna know where he is?”
Pain stabbed through her heart. Kale.
“That boy used to look too much like his mother, but now he’s got my features. My grit. Maybe I should brainwash this bastard and turn him into the son he should have been.”
“Fucking…” She slammed the butt of the gun against the stall, her hatred producing a fresh round of tears. Her hands shook so hard she had to clench the gun tight to hold on. Frank had taunted her like this for years, and there was always a truth to everything he said. She had no doubt he’d found Kale and would hurt him just to torture her.
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