by S Lawrence
“You held my hair,” I say and instantly I can see he doesn’t get it. “You stayed and held my hair.”
“I know.” His brows draw down, and I smile at him.
“I’d kiss you but…” I put my fingers in front of my mouth.
He watches me while he brings his face down, and I melt when he presses his lips to my forehead, and they stay there as I draw in a deep breath.
When he moves back, I just stare at him and I can feel tears spring into my eyes but I try to blink them away.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles and leaps from the bed before I can even try to explain.
He’s out the door before I can get myself up. I sit on the bed, swaying slightly as black spots swim before my eyes. I’m still there when the door opens and a young man comes in carrying a jug. He sits it on the table beside the bed and then lays a twig and a pot of sea salt beside it.
“The captain thought you’d like to freshen up,” he says without making eye contact and then grabs the bucket and practically flees the room. I stare after him long after the door is closed then look down at the things he left.
It’s everything I need to clean the residue from my teeth and mouth and clean the sweat from my body. I pick up the twig and rub my thumb over the end, flaring it out, then dip it in the water before tapping it into the salt.
I scrub my teeth and inside of my mouth, repeating the tap and dip over and over until all I can taste is the strangely minty salt. Finally, I rinse one last time, lay the twig down, and pick up the salt container, bringing it up to my nose.
The smell of mint is stronger than the actual flavor. I’ve got to ask who makes it.
Putting it back, I look around and see a small basin on the floor near his wardrobe. I take one more steadying breath and then I stand. I stay put for a moment and then cross to get the bowl before making my way back to the table where the dessert still sits staring at me, daring me to take a bite.
“Not today.” I shake my head, pushing it well away. I don’t even want to smell the sweetness. “Maybe not ever.”
The water is warm but it is cooling quickly, so I glance at the door as I strip. My clothes fall in a heap at my feet, and I pick up the rag that was with the basin and pick up the jug of water in my other hand. Pouring the water into the basin, I glance around as I sit it back on the table.
Soap. Laying the rag on the edge of the basin, I turn around and look at the corner where I grabbed the bowl. There is a small wooden crate, and I cross to it and see a misshapen chunk of soap in it, along with a brush and a few other things. I grab the brush and the soap then go back to the table.
Placing the items down on the table, I grab the rag once again then dunk it in the water. I wash my skin, removing the sweat and grime from the last few days. It had been a few days, but with so much going on, I hadn’t even thought of it. I’m sure I had begun to stink.
I rinse the soap from my skin and pick up another piece of fabric to scrub myself dry. My skin is pink when I finally finish, and I gasp as the door flies open.
Cyder stands there frozen until he hears steps behind him. Before I can blink or cover even an inch of my skin, he slams the door shut and locks it.
We both stare, our bodies locked in place. My skin grows pinker as I reach behind me and pull up a pillow, which was the first thing my fingers touched. I bring it around and cover myself, entirely too late, but it does allow for him to blink, and then the spell is broken.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, then pauses. “Actually, no. I’m not sorry at all but for God's sake, woman, lock the door the next time. I’d hate to have to kill a member of my crew for seeing you.”
I shiver at the tone and promise in it. He wasn’t kidding; he would kill anyone who saw me. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating. I step around the table, the pillow still held to me.
“I’m sorry. You ran before I could explain.” I reach him and press close, letting his body hold the pillow between us. “The tears were for your sweetness, your kindness.” I reach up and touch his cheek, reveling in the silky softness of his beard. “You have stolen a piece of my heart.”
His eyes widen at my words, and then his body relaxes. I know then how worried he was.
“I…” He stopped and looked at me, really studied me. His eyes roam over my face, memorizing it.
I feel his hand move over the bare skin at my hip, lightly sliding around while moving up to my waist.
“I realize now I have no clothes aboard your ship,” I whisper, loving the hunger that blazes bright in his eyes.
“You are tempting me to do things we have all agreed to wait for.” His fingers tighten on my skin.
“I don’t remember being present for this agreement,” I murmur while rising up. I let my lips feather over the skin on his chest along his collar bone.
“Pet, please, I will not disrespect my brothers,” he growls but doesn’t push me away.
“Fine,” I growl right back as I turn, letting the pillow fall. I saunter slowly to the bed and slide under the covers. He groans and I hide a smile. “Your decision... Pet.” I look back over my shoulder at him.
He is holding the pillow in front of him, and I let my gaze drift down to what he is possibly hiding.
He throws the pillow across the room, and it lands at my side. Cyder spins and jerks the door open, slamming it behind him to leave me alone in his bed. I wait as long as I can before sleep drags me to darkness.
I wake hours later; darkness is fading and heat surrounds me. His heat.
Chapter Four
CYDER
She is awake.
Not moving, breathing as slowly and shallowly as she can, but she is awake. Her body tensed slightly when she felt me behind her.
“Morning,” I say the word low and let my breath heat her skin even more.
“I didn’t hear you when you came back. I didn’t feel you come to me.” She sounds petulant.
“I was quiet. You needed to rest.” I kiss the skin just at the base of her neck.
“Where did you go?”
I don’t speak. Instead, I point at the foot of the bed. Her head turns, and a small gasp escapes as she pushes up. Her hand reaches out for the clothes I had draped over the footboard, clothes that I had pulled from one of my treasure chests. When I had started packing them away some years ago, I didn’t know why but I thought they might be needed at some point.
Maybe it was a hope or a wish but whatever it might have been, I’m thankful for it now. The joy on her face is worth the looks the items had garnered from my men and my brothers.
The clothes are fitting of a queen—dresses, pants, and shirts all in the softest, most brilliantly colored fabrics. Some are from a time before, but others I had made from the pictures in books. I had found a woman who could create anything if you could bring her the materials. She didn’t let me down when I showed her the pictures from the books.
Months later, she had gotten word to me to pick up my order.
Reyna is kneeling, clutching the sheet to her front, but her delectable ass is bare to me, and I hunger to run my hands over it. I desire to grip it tight and drag her back to me.
“Cyder?”
When I look up, she is grinning. Minx.
“Sorry, your ass distracted me.” I won’t hide my desire from her.
“I said thank you and they are too much.” Her fingers stroke the fabric, proving her words a lie. “Where did they come from?”
“I found some here and there. Others I had made.” I raise up, bracing on my elbows.
“Made for who?” She can’t hide the hint of jealousy in her voice.
“You.”
“Me?” Her eyes widen and a smile blooms over her face.
“It seems so. I didn’t have a person in mind but I had them made anyway. And I’m almost positive they will fit you as if they were sewn for you.”
She turns around and comes back to me, the sheet between us but once again her butt bare, and this time, I don’
t stop myself. I grab it and pull her against me tighter, letting her feel what she’s done to me.
Her moan makes me harder.
She slides up my body, and it’s my turn to groan.
Our lips meet in a crash of hunger. She kisses like she is starving, and I let her feast. I kiss her until we are both gasping, but neither of our hungers are sated even slightly. The kisses only stoke the flames higher.
“Reyna,” I murmur against her now swollen lips. “We must stop or I won’t be able to.”
“We keep having the same conversation, but I understand your honor, your promise.” She pushes up some, keeping the sheet pulled to her. “I will stop but I need to put more than this sheet between us, and you need to let go of my ass.”
She grins as I flex my fingers once before letting them drop to the mattress. It is the one thing I can do to keep my honor. She is bringing us to our knees, and we are all happy to be there, her willing subjects.
She grabs a dress at the end of the bed, and I let my head fall back as the sheet drops. Closing my eyes, I try and fail not to picture her. Seconds draw out to minutes and what seems like hours later, I feel her draw near.
“You can open your eyes, Cyder,” she whispers near my head.
I wait a beat then do just what she suggested. She stands before me, looking regal.
My Queen.
A sharp whistle cuts through the air, and she turns her head toward the door before looking back at me. I have already flung my legs over the edge of the bed and I’m pushing up to my feet.
“You slept in your clothes,” she murmurs, and I don’t understand the look on her face.
“Of course.” I frown as the look deepens and she blinks rapidly.
I stop trying to figure it out and step around her so I can grab my boots. Leaning over, I pull on one then the other before I straighten. She is standing right in front of me when I do.
Before I can react, she grabs my face firmly but gently and pulls it down, kissing me. It’s different than the heated kisses from moments ago. I think I might like this one more. It says something that I understand about as much as the look on her face but I can feel it’s important.
I kiss her back and try my best to tell her how I feel, tell us both, since I’m not sure what this feeling is.
We break apart at the sound of another whistle.
“Come on, pet. Someone is needing to speak to us, I fear.” I take her hand and lead her out onto the deck.
The morning has dawned clear and the sky is beautiful but it has nothing on her in the dress. The reaction by the crew that are on deck says they feel the same thing. It is different shades of dark blue, the darkest almost black, and it has silver threads stitched throughout. All she is lacking is the crown.
My brothers have positioned themselves in front of us and dropped anchor. I nod at my first mate and he does the same, lowering our sails, which have taken a beating in the storm.
Fallon swings over as soon as we are stopped. My crew has brought us perpendicular to the others, our port side along their afts. The others follow closely behind him and they all freeze when they see her. Looking beyond them, I see crews from each ship gather at their rails, looking at us. At her.
She is beaming, oblivious of the uproar she is causing.
“Reyna.” Fallon nods his head once, and she dances over to him, twirling, showing off the dress.
“Isn’t it beautiful.” It’s a statement as she glances back at me.
“Yes, it is.” Hagen looks her up and down, not even trying to hide the lust in his gaze.
She blushes but returns his look with one almost as hungry. Wilder watches and I see his eyes narrow before he looks at me. I jerk my head, beckoning him and Fallon to my side while she gets spun around again by Hagen. Her breathless laughter fills the morning.
Glancing around, I want to laugh at the mooning the men are doing but honestly, I feel for the poor bastards. She is the perfect mixture of sweet and sassy, inducing a myriad of emotions. I can tell all my brothers want to both protect her and ravish her. The crews are ready to fall on a sword for her.
Lash is the last to join us and he pauses on the rail.
I haven’t seen him seem so lost in many years and never for this reason.
Reyna notices him, frozen on the rail, and slows her spinning, then pulls away from Hagen, who starts to join the rest of us.
“Do you like it? Cyder was kind enough to give it to me.”
I’m happy she left out what I told her about having it made for her.
“You are breathtaking.” Lash’s voice is reverent. “A true queen.”
She holds up a hand and he takes it, jumping down. He lands directly in front of her, inches separating them. She stares up into his face, and for a split second, I hate him for his beautiful face. Glancing from side to side, I feel slightly ashamed because I see none of my envy on my brothers’ faces.
“They make quite the couple,” I hear someone murmur from behind us and look back to see at least five of my crew standing and staring.
“I hate that they aren’t wrong,” Hagen grumbles but a small smile is on his face.
“Same, brother.” Fallon chuckles.
They jest, but I spin on my heels to head back to my quarters. I can feel the others’ eyes on me and I flip my middle finger at them. Hagen bellows and I can picture Wilder shaking his head solemnly while Fallon frowns.
It is Fallon’s steps I hear start to follow me.
I throw myself on the couch and wait for the others to join me. Fallon is first, of course, and he glances around, taking in everything from the placement of the bed to the bucket beside it.
“She had a rough night.” I don't elaborate, for there is no need.
“How was your night?” He asks as Wilder and Hagen join us.
“Long.”
Hagen cackles this time. This is the most I’ve heard him laugh in our lives.
“Shut up, idiot,” I growl, and he just laughs more.
“What’s the matter, Cyder? You couldn’t steal any kisses?” He snickers, but his eyes are extremely watchful.
“Not the problem.” Now they all frown, and it’s my turn to smile.
They wait and I draw out the silence, loving the glances they keep throwing at her out on deck. She and Lash are doing some slow dance, and I realize his gold tunic and dark pants look like they were made to complement her dress.
“They look like the paintings in some of the books.” Wilder’s voice is low and filled with emotion.
“He is just as beautiful as she is,” Fallon agrees, and I feel that ugly emotion start to churn.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit, and they all look back at me.
“Did you not connect with her?” Wilder questions, but it’s Hagen that looks at me with understanding.
I’m surprised when he moves to join me. “Can we have a moment, brothers?” He asks, but his tone doesn’t really offer the choice for them to deny his request.
Both just turn and leave, shutting the door behind them. We both sit in silence, listening to the sounds of laughter just beyond the wood.
“We aren’t like them. Never have been,” Hagen starts as he drags his gaze back to me. “That fact is neither good nor bad. It is just a fact.”
I open my mouth to argue on that point, but he shakes his head.
“Wilder will have no problem sharing her love, and she will need his safety and calm,” he continues before pausing once again, glancing at the door. “Fallon, well, she already loves him, whether she knows it or not. They bonded in the cave he woke in and in the darkness of her despair.”
I couldn’t argue with his observations; it is what he does.
“She is drawn to my darkness. It calls to the wildness in her.” He watches for my reaction.
I sigh. “I know.”
“She will be drawn to Lash’s brokenness, his need for someone to love the man he keeps protected and hidden. He will draw her need to pr
otect.”
Great, now I feel like more of an asshole. “When did you get so goddamn insightful?”
“I always have been; I just don’t care to share my thoughts.” He shrugs.
“So like I said, I don’t know if I can do this. She will have no need for me. She finds me attractive but she will not need me.” I sound like a child.
“All the better for you.”
“How exactly?” I scoff, spoiling for a fight.
“Because when she comes to you, it will be because she chooses to for no other reason than yourself. I believe it will be you she seeks when she just wants to be Reyna. Not our queen, not our savior, but the woman she was. You are the one she would have chosen for herself.”
I stare, at a loss for words, and he laughs, his hand coming out to pat me on the shoulder before he rises. I watch as he walks out the door, leaving it open.
She turns when she hears his steps, and concern clouds her face for a moment as we lock eyes. I smile, trying to reassure her, and she returns it with a tentative one of her own.
Lash is standing behind her, and I nod at him before standing up.
‘No sense sitting in here like a child,’ I chastise myself.
I stand then and cross to the door, trying to get my emotions under control in the few steps it takes me. Hagen’s words are playing over and over in my mind. I would have been the one chosen. As I stand there leaning against the frame, I imagine it.
I can see us together in a home, a house in some village filled with our children and her beast. I can practically smell the food on the stove. I can hear her laughter and the giggles of a child. Before I realize it, my hand is over my heart as it clenches in my chest.
How our lives could have been different if the King hadn’t found us.
Of course, life is weird that way. I would have never met her. Or is it that destiny would have brought us all together, no matter what?
Without the King, we would not be who we are. It is our lives that have shaped us. He, no matter how much I hate to admit it, made us the men we are.
“I think we have time,” Hagen was saying, the breeze bringing his words to me.