“Yes, I would.” I start to rise, but he steps forward and sweeps me into his strong arms again. Before I can protest or panic, he carries me to his large bed and tucks me under the warm coverlet.
“Rest here. No one will bother you. I’ll make sure of it.” He steps away to grab one of the chairs at the table and returns to my side.
For reasons I cannot identify clearly at the moment, I desperately want him in the bed with me, not in a chair at my side.
“Lennox, will you… will you lay next to me?” The words come out barely above a whisper.
His eyes snap to mine in surprise, but he promptly pulls his boots off and places his cutlass on the chair seat. He walks around the other side of the bed and I feel the stuffed mattress sink behind me as he crawls to my side. I remain on my side, still facing the chair, when I feel him curl behind me, our bodies fitted together with the coverlet between us.
“Thank you,” I whisper and sink into his protective warmth.
As the haze from the brandy washes over me, I begin to drift to sleep. I am on the edge of wakefulness, so I can’t be certain, but I swear I hear a whisper against my hair.
“I knew you would be fierce the first night I saw you. Rest, my she-wolf.” Gentle fingers caress my hair as I fall asleep.
Chapter 11
The smoke from the ruined temple chokes me as I run through the narrow hidden passage. Stones bruise my bare feet as I flee in the darkness, too afraid to carry a lamp or candle in case I am followed. Angry voices drift through the air, a mixture of soldiers bellowing commands and my sister priestesses crying out in desperate sobs.
Guilt swells in my chest that I’m leaving them behind, but the only thing I can think of is escape. Refugees that pass through the temple have spoken of what awaits if the King’s men capture me; we are no longer sacred beings who honor the divine. We are whores and heathens to be used as they wish, or burned for heresy. Those are the options left to me if I stay behind.
I will not be captured.
Heavy footsteps echo in the darkness behind me and I run faster on bloodied feet. A hand reaches out to grasp my hair…
* * *
I sit up in alarm. Sweat coats my flesh and the light shift I wear is stuck to me. My chest tightens as my eyes dart around the dim space, pushing the warm coverlet off. A lantern burns on the table on the other side of the bed, illuminating the space enough to spark recognition of my location as it reflects off the now familiar furniture and the form resting at my side, allowing my breathing to slow. I’m in the Captain’s cabin. I’m safe.
Captain Lennox is still at my side, but his body is relaxed in sleep, his right hand resting across his stomach as he lays on his back. I’m relieved to see he is still fully clothed on top of the coverlet. A book rests face down on the mattress next to him, so he must have moved at some point once I fell asleep, but returned to me.
His face is calm, the furrow normally present on his brow softened. Glancing up at his eyes again to make sure he is still asleep, I take a moment to admire his full lips, parted slightly. His lashes are lighter than I expect, as is the barest amount of stubble along his strong jaw — time spent in the amplified sunlight off the sea must have lightened it like it has his dark hair as our voyage continues.
It’s easy to see his life hasn’t been peaceful; the scar on his right brow and across his knuckles are indicative of a life full of violence. With his forearms bare and his eyes closed, I can openly admire the different tattoos that mark his tan flesh. Many are the usual nautical symbols common amongst sailors and pirates — birds and stars symbolizing luck, safe journeys home, and miles traveled. But I was correct before; there are symbols of the Goddess — moon phases, sigils, and stars woven into constellations on his skin.
Who is this man and what does he know of the Goddess?
When I look toward the windows lining the back of the cabin, a hint of starlight shines through the wavy glass. I’ve slept so long that it’s already night. Carefully, so I don’t disturb Lennox, I climb down from the bed and walk quietly to retrieve a glass of water, swishing it around my sore mouth before drinking. Then, I sit on the bench that lines the windows and gaze out at the stars and the thick slice of moon in the sky.
My heartbeat slows, and my nerves calm after my sudden awakening, the twinkling sky soothing the ache in my soul. I know we are traveling down the coast, but I have no idea which of the port cities we will stop at before crossing the sea. I’ve only traveled long-distance once, but it was overland, and I was in such a panic that I’ve tried to forget most of the journey.
My thoughts are arrested by movement on the bed as the Captain stirs. From my vantage point, I watch him reach for where my body should be. His eyes fly open when he finds the space is empty, and he sits up suddenly, looking around the room before locking eyes with me on the bench.
“Are you well?” he asks, standing and approaching me, running his fingers through his hair. Although I trust that I am safe in his presence, my heart stutters a bit as he nears, eyes roving across my body in the dim light of the lantern burning low.
“I am. Thank you. I’ll retire to my own cabin now. I don’t wish to trouble you further.” I stand and move to return my water glass to the table when he reaches for my empty hand.
“You don’t have to leave. Stay as long as you like. I won’t... ” Lennox pauses. “I have no expectations,” he says, delicately stroking my palm. Unbidden, heat pools in my belly as warmth spreads from his touch and I find myself allowing him to entwine my fingers with his, my smaller hand swallowed by his rough palm.
“I know, I just…” I stumble over my words and unlace our hands. “I should check on Lyra.”
Lennox clears his throat with a nod. “Of course.” He straightens and hands me one of his coats to wear over my light shift, then walks me to the door. Before he opens it, and before I can reconsider what I’m doing, I stand on my tiptoes and brush a chaste kiss on his mouth. A stunned look crosses his face, but he doesn’t have a chance to speak before I am out the door and rushing to my cabin.
None of the men on deck pay me any mind as I walk quickly toward the stairs that lead below to my shared cabin. Either they are unconcerned, or are avoiding me after the display earlier. Pausing at the top of the stairs, I take a deep breath, the sea breeze soothing my nerves while the bright stars above ground me.
I am whole, I am strong, I have survived worse than this.
Fortified by my own words, I descend into the damp lower decks.