Sighing, I run a hand through my sweaty hair. Anders hands me a towel from the pile, and I start to dry off. I dry my hand on a nearby towel. “I’ll deal with that while you make sure the men get back to work.”
He nods, handing me my phone. “Right away, Captain Erik.”
Grunting a response, I tighten my fist around my phone and head to the shower. If she wants to talk about what happened, then she'll have to wait until I'm ready.
* * *
Thirty minutes later,I’ve washed off the sweat from the fight. Pulling on black sweatpants, I grab a plain, black t-shirt and yank it over my head. I chug a glass of water before collapsing into my office chair.
“Rip off the bandaid.” I give myself a little pep-talk and set the glass down. Unlocking my phone, there is a message for me, but not one that I was expecting.
Unknown: Update on the cargo.
A pit forms in my stomach as I stare at the text, reading and re-reading it. Four words. That’s all it takes for reality to come crashing down. I’ve already made up my mind. I won’t be doing what the King is asking of me. But… if I don’t play along for a little longer, there’s a chance he sends his Elite after us.
And that, more than anything else, is the thing that has caused me so much inner turmoil. Those ancient, high-speed swimmers were proven through blood and brutality. They'll tear me to shreds and kill my entire crew in retribution for my actions. My sailors’ faces flash before my eyes as I stare at the message. They are my responsibility. Their lives matter, even if mine doesn’t.
When the King finds out that Helena is gone, I hope my crew will have disappeared like fog on a sunny day. I will stay behind. They have a much better chance without me and my Fortuna-cursed life.
Me: The cargo will be disposed of before we reach land.
I press ‘send’, and almost instantly, three dots appear on the screen. Dropping the FaePhone on my desk, I stare at it. My back is stiff as my eyes are glued to the three dots. One minute ticks by, then two, before a short burst of vibration shakes my desk.
Unknown: You have one week. Send a photo of the body and destroy this phone.
There's no use responding to the message, so I toss the phone on my desk before banging my head against my hands.
This entire day has been a shit show. Between the fight on the deck and nowthis, it’s just been a reminder that my life is short. The sad reality is… I probably won’t even live to see the end of the month. My fate was sealed the moment I saw that damned Mer prince.
If only I had known that his sister would torment me as well. As if on cue, someone knocks on my door. The sound reverberates in my skull.
“I’m busy,” I shout.
There’s no response, but the knob slowly turns. Irritation rises in my throat but is stifled as a white napkin is thrust into the room and waved about. Lithe gray fingers hold onto the fabric. My phone dings and I snatch it up.
Princess: I come bearing chocolate beignets and coffee. Truce?
Instantly, my whole mood changes. If I'm going to end up in Tartaro anyway, why the hell not indulge a little? Even men on death row are usually offered one delicious last meal. I could get over my anger if it meant touching her soft skin again. Even the thought has a pleasant warmth running through me.
“Come on in, Princess.”
Moments later, the door swings wide open. Helena holds up a finger before bending down and giving me a prime view of her glorious, heart-shaped ass. I forget to be mad about her throwing the fight.
She’s changed and is standing barefoot in the hallway, wearing a pair of form-fitting leggings and a soft gray t-shirt. She must have showered after me because her hair is in a wet knot on top of her head.
There's a tray resting on the floor, laden with a coffee pot and two mugs. The platter of promised beignets sits in the middle. I remember the manners my mother pounded into me before she died. My chair scrapes on the floor before I hurry over to the door. “Let me, Helena.”
She stares at me, raising a brow before stepping back and gesturing towards the tray. Bending down, I make sure to take my time and give her a show. It's heavy, and the aroma of the coffee is enticing.
Placing the tray on the table, I straighten. The hairs on the back of my neck tingle, and I know Helena’s standing right behind me. If I turn around, I could wrap my arms around her and pull her flush against me. She would gasp silently, her cheeks would flush, and I would kiss her until her fingers wove through my hair.
Instead of stealing the moment, I stop myself and say, “So, you threw a fight.You lied. Didn't think I could handle losing to a woman?"
A long beat of silence passes before my phone vibrates.
Princess: You needed the win more than me. Your men needed you to win.
“Did you even consider that I wouldn’t want you to do it?” I whisper.