Page 30 of Dare

Light fades, mist grows, in this Phantom Wild.

It felt as if hours had passed—I’d probably grown decades older on this boat—until the sun flung golden beams across the ripples. I squeezed the tiller. The Summer lyrics churned inside me, along with flashbacks of discovering its secret. Shortly before my imprisonment as a child, I’d seen those lyrics written across a shore. A nameless somebody must have wandered by and sketched the song into the sand, maybe for fun.

I memorized the words, spent hours recreating them, then stared from different angles because something had been strange about their arrangement. Back then, I hadn’t known what.

Later, I finally saw it. My gaze breached the disguise, written in the perfect way. Yes, the words made up the song, but when I looked hard enough, those words became shapes, images stringing together to create a map. The symbols included Summer’s castle, its wharf, a fleet of clouds, the sea, a trio of sun rays, and a floating rainforest.

For years, I’d marveled at this discovery. When I was transferred to Autumn, I had drawn the same images in a pile of dirt on the dungeon floor. Then after I was caught again in Summer, I recreated the sketch in my tower cell.

The words rang through me now. In my mind’s eye, I saw the map, the drawing, and—

I glanced skyward. As twilight gave way to dawn, faint sunrays diced through the storm, their brightness landing on the ocean’s surface like a path.

Sun paths, golden rays, to this Phantom Wild.

Hope burst in my chest. I steered toward the strands of light as they skipped over the eddies, beckoning me forward.

The boat gave a jolt, tilting off course and hurtling me across the deck. My shoulder hit the bow, my molars clattering as the ocean threw a fit. I shook myself, then peeled my body off the deck, realizing the sea’s outrage had nothing to do with me.

It had to do with the male hand seizing the boat’s rim.

12

Jeryn

Infernal bitch. She would pay for this.

First, that sentinel had almost gutted her, a sight that had me feeling murderous, purely because he’d been targeting my property. Nothing more and no other reason.

Second, no rational being would leap into the ocean or pilot a boat during a hellish fucking tempest. The thought of her fighting this storm chilled my blood. She could break her neck. She could drown. Again, let nothing damage what was mine.

This wasn’t about keeping her safe. Not a fucking chance.

I heaved myself over the side, my body slamming like a log onto the deck. Staggering to my feet, I seized the rigging for balance. From several paces away, the tiny fugitive tensed.

“Hello, Little Beast,” I gritted through the tumult. “Going somewhere?”

Standing amid the chaos like an immortal, she took a precious second to scowl. My drenched shirt plastered itself to my frame, and that minuscule excuse for a dress suctioned to her body. Naked under the garment, her tits, hips, and cunt shone through the material, that threadbare layer of film serving as the only protective barrier. Sopping wet, she resembled a drenched mermaid.

The visual pissed me off. Why the fuck did I feel the urge to steady her before she slipped and fractured a ligament? This female had proven half a dozen times that she wasn’t easily breakable.

The tidefarer jolted, knocking us from the bizarre trance. The woman’s hand shot out, using the rigging to stabilize herself, the wind buffeting her sodden rags. In a frantic rush, she hustled to the stern and pulled on the steering rod.

Going somewhere?

She speared me with those eyes again, silently answering my question, her sneer indicating something along the lines of, Yes, cocksucker. And so are you.

My muscles locked. I’d been too incapacitated by the sight of her to notice one vital fact: I stood in the rod’s fucking path.

The beast let go. With the force of a battering ram, the lever swung and slammed into my abdomen, launching me backward. As I crashed, another wave collided with the boat, intensifying the impact. I smashed onto the deck, a shudder vibrating up my tailbone.

Seething, I hauled my upper body off the floor, my muscles screaming with each movement. That maneuver with the lever had been a flagrant overreaction on the captive’s part, this being an inconvenient time for us to flay each other. If she had sense, she would have comprehended that.

The fool grappled the apparatus, directing the boat through the maelstrom. Her gaze fluctuated between two entities—the sails and the rising sun. Whatever the fuck she was looking for, that frenetic energy needed to be contained, preferably before she capsized us.

Flattening my palms on the slippery boards, I hefted myself upright. My rumbling groan caused her to swerve in my direction. As I stumbled her way, she guessed my intention to overtake the lever, panic gripping her face.

A second later, her foot hooked beneath mine. The beast gave a harsh jerk, vaulting me backward yet again, at which point she took a flying leap toward my chest and tackled me to the floor. The planks convulsed beneath us, and the boat went rampant along with her. It shot upward, climbing a wave and plummeting into the mouth of another. A wall of ocean struck the hull, sliding us to the opposite end of the vehicle. And because she’d released the lever, the boat tipped from side to side, careening with the surf.

---