I roll my eyes. Iambad luck for them, but not for the reason they think.
“That’s enough,” the captain says.
“I was just saying—”
Erik’s chair scratches against the wooden floor and teeters on its back legs momentarily. He stands and prowls over to the man’s chair. He grabs the back of the sailor’s shirt in one heartbeat and yanks him into a standing position.
“I said,” the irritable captain growls between gritted teeth, “That’s enough. I don’t like it either, but youwill notquestion my decisions.” A smack fills the air and a red mark blooms on the man’s cheekbone. No one breathes as the sailor tumbles to the ground, falling with athump. The poor man is alone and without help as he scrambles to his feet and hurries out of the room.
A chill skitters down my spine. The captain has made his dislike of me obvious. If I could speak, I would’ve goaded him at this moment. This feels personal, and I want to see how far I can push him.
Opportunity lost.
I sit in my chair, and Conrad goes to the bar to get two plates of food for us. He smiles warmly when he hands me mine, and I return the gesture with a delicate shrug.
Ugh. I am even starting to annoy myself.
When I look up, the scowl has returned to the captain’s face. He watches me with such fierce intensity from across the table. If looks could kill, I would have two holes burned in my forehead by now.
“If any of you touch…her, you will be thrown overboard to visit all the Mer females you want. Perhaps they will spare your eyeballs when they feed you to their pets,” Captain Erik says, warning his crew.
The rest of the meal passes in complete silence, and the captain never stops staring at me. Surely the others notice, but no one comments on it further. It doesn’t take a genius to realize they’re afraid of him.
After eating, I allow Conrad to take my arm and guide me back to my room. I’m the perfect, mindless doll for him. He doesn’t seem to mind that all I can do is nod and smile when he says something.
He lingers momentarily at the door, but I fake a yawn and slip inside, shoving the door shut. I hope Conrad doesn’t notice how much force I put behind it.
I let out a long exhale and stretch my arms, allowing the idiotic smile I’d left plastered over my face to melt away. My fingers loosen the band I’d wrapped around my rib cage to give the loose tunic some form. As I toss it on the bed, one side of the shirt slides off my shoulder, and I slide out of the black legging-like things.
A firm knock sounds at the door, and I roll my eyes. Conrad certainly is persistent. I walk over, wondering if baring so much skin is a bad idea. There’s no peephole to check who’s on the other side.
If it’s Conrad, I’m angry enough to shut him down here and now. He’s too eager, anyway—mindless bastard.
I yank the door open, fixing my face in my most withering stare. A pair of brown, black-fringed eyes glare back at me. I take a step back at the intensity brewing within the captain’s eyes.
“Did you enjoy making a spectacle of yourself this evening?” he asks, leaning against the door frame.
I shrug, and more irritation builds in his eyes. Pushing this man’s buttons is kind of fun. Especially after a night of Conrad’s idiotic pining.
“So, you’re a mute?” Erik asks, pushing past me and closing the door. I try to ignore how he smells like sea salt as I shake my head.
“No? So what is this, then?” he gestures to me.
I shrug again, and his eyes widen a fraction of an inch. He clenches his teeth, a vein pulsing in his neck. If he were a dragon, he’d be breathing smoke by now.
The thought makes me smile, and my lips tilt into a wide grin. Somehow, he becomes even more frustrated, his nostrils flaring dramatically.
Pushing past him, I grab the small notepad and sit. Scribbling at a rapid pace, I write,
Can’t speak. Dad exchanged my voice for legs.
I shove the pad at him. His eyes fly over the text, squinting for a moment.
“What the hell, Princess?” he starts. “Your handwriting is terrible.”
It’s my turn to scowl. I go back to my pad and draw a quick sketch. Once again, I shove it at him and watch his face expectantly.
For a moment, he looks confused, and then the anger flushes his face. “Why, you spoiled—” he throws the rough sketch of him with a pirate hat and a giant stick up his ass. I let out a silent laugh so violent that it tips my chair backward.