Page 36 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

“Ah yes.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “We need sexual energy, but trust me, our partners must be willing.” His hand lifted as he spoke, and with a single finger, he drew a path from the crook of my elbow to my shoulder, making my skin tingle. I watched as he touched me, slow and languid. If that was a single finger, I didn’t even want to know what it would feel like if he touched me with his hand or his mouth. I suspected that I wouldn’t survive it.

I cleared my throat once or twice. “I would like to get into my tent,” I said, leaving off the unspoken ‘please.’

“Certainly,” Shay said as he dipped down and lifted me with one fell swoop. He ducked into the tent, carrying me like a bride, before dumping me on the bedroll without ceremony. The moment was over way too soon. He lingered for a moment and stooped over in the low tent. “Try not to cause too much trouble,” Shay warned.

I was about to ask what trouble I could get into in a tent, but he was gone before I opened my mouth.

I curled in on myself in the darkness, the bedroll too thin to be of any use on the hard ground. My wrists ached where the wire rubbed against my skin, and my hands cradled to my chest as if I was praying.

My teeth couldn’t stop chattering, the sound loud enough to be heard over the creaking of the trees in the nighttime wind.

I wanted to go back to the water, where I couldn’t feel the chill of the air.

I remained on the border of wakefulness and sleep for hours when I heard shuffling as someone pushed the fabric of my tent door aside. The space was small, barely enough for two people unless they were on top of each other—by design—and I was aware that someone had come into my tent, though they didn’t say a word.

I glanced over my shoulder, unable to move far. My visitor was shrouded in darkness, and fear made my voice still in my throat and my heartbeat roar in my ears.

I didn’t recognize the silhouette, but that wasn’t saying much. I was surrounded by enemies at every turn.

They ripped the covers off my bedroll and stared down at me. My eyes struggled to adjust, but even when I saw their face, I didn’t recognize them.

“It’s sweet of the king to wrap you up for me. Just like a present,” the intruder growled.

My stomach dropped to my knees, and my breath stuttered in my throat.

I was suddenly all too aware of how far my tent was from the others—and even if I screamed loud enough, would anyone come to save me.

The soldier blocked the small opening of the tent, and I knew that even if I managed to stand and somehow get past while bound, I wouldn’t make it far.

“If you touch me, I’ll kill you,” I said, jutting my chin.

The stranger let out a low and throaty chuckle. “Sure you will.”

I was going to be sick.

The stranger bent down, raking his fingers in my hair before wrapping the strands around his fist. Using my hair, he lifted my head until my face met his. His breath stank of alcohol.

“How about a kiss,” he snickered.

“Feck. You,” I snarled, rearing back and slamming my forehead into his. Pain blossomed between my eyes, and I hissed as my vision tilted for a moment. The intruder cursed and swung a punch at the side of my head.

I curled my stomach, lifting my bound legs as I kicked out. He knocked my feet aside as if it was nothing and was on me in a moment. His weight pinned me, and I bucked and writhed, but nothing seemed to move him. I let out a scream, and his meaty hand slammed down on my mouth. I tried to bite him but wasn’t successful.

“Go on, struggle. I like it,” my attacker grunted.

I let out another muffled scream.

Then his weight was gone, and the side of my tent had been ripped clean off.

The moon hung behind Cormac Illfin, illuminating him as he stood over my tent. My attacker lay on the sand, unmoving, several feet away.

Without a word, the mer-king leaned down and took out a dagger. I closed my eyes and waited for the bite of pain—for him to kill me. With a snap, he undid the bindings on my feet, leaving my hands tied together before he grabbed my attacker and dragged him away, leaving me alone in the night air.

I didn’t sleep again but spent the entire night with my back against the tree line and my knees to my chest. When the sun rose, I approached the water and watched the waves roll over one another.

“What’s going to happen to me?” I whispered to the water, but it didn’t answer.

Shay Mac Eoin, the nymph, stepped up to my shoulder. When he looked down at me, his features were sharp and accessing. “We are going to Tarsainn,” he replied simply, not bothering to explain his meaning, but Iknew.

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