Page 28 of Freeing Hook

I’ve changed my mind. This is worse than seeing him shirtless.

I pad toward him, carefully, since I’ve learned that the boat is liable to sway underneath me at random moments. He waits patiently, his green eyes marking my path toward him as he leans against the bedpost. The way his arms are folded against his chest highlights the divot between the muscle and bone in his forearms. I try to avert my gaze to some part of him that’s not so tantalizing, that doesn’t make my head swirl, my legs tremble with the desire to come closer. But there’s not exactly anywhere to look that serves that purpose unless I’m going to block my eyes again.

As I come closer, the scent of teakwood envelops me, quickening my pulse.

“You’re trembling,” he says, rubbing his short-cropped beard with his forefinger and thumb.

“I never know what you’re going to do to me,” I say, though I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth.

He grunts, then goes back to crossing his arms. “Vorin told me he saw you the other night.”

“Who’s Vorin?”

“The unfortunate sailor tasked with guarding the bunker now that we have a thief on board.”

The taste of faerie dust lingers in my throat. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.”

The captain takes an exaggerated step backward, then rounds the other side of his bed, undoing the chain that once kept me secured to the bedpost. My throat starts closing up, but I remind myself that if the captain wanted to harm me, he’s had plenty of opportunities.

“It was a test, you know. Earlier, when I gave you the key to this,” he says, gesturing to the shackle in his hand.

“I doubt you were expecting me to pass, anyway,” I say, voice flat.

He flicks his gaze up at me, staring through those long, dark eyelashes. “No. And yet, somehow, I’m still disappointed.”

And how disappointed would Astor be if he knew about the pouch Peter gave me, the one that’s still tucked underneath my waistband?

When he advances, I back up, but only a step. Nothing useful. He’s close now, close enough that if he were to breathe a shade deeper, his chest would brush against mine. “That’s all you’re going to do?” he asks, running his thumb over the chain in his hand. “Back away from me?”

I swallow, then retreat again, but the captain is faster. He grabs my wrist with his left hand, the grayish Mating Mark on his forearm appearing as sickly as ever. I tug my arm away. His grip only tightens.

“What’s wrong?” he barks in response to my whimper. When I turn my face away, he ticks his tongue. “Look at me.”

I do.

“That hurts,” I say, my voice catching as he digs his fingers in tighter around my wrist. I hate the way my voice trembles. How weak and terrified and pitiful I sound.

He holds my gaze, and I’m transfixed by his green eyes. There’s a rage burning in them, and I wonder if he’s about to throw the plan to fool the Carlisles overboard. Go ahead and take whatever revenge on me he’s been plotting. But then he says, calmly, “If it hurts, then fight back.”

A wry laugh escapes my lips. “What would be the point?” I glance at his sharp-tipped ears that mark him as fae, the muscles wrapping around his arms, his sheer size compared to mine.

“Because then at least you could say you tried. That you went down fighting.”

“It’s foolish to engage in a fight you know you’re destined to lose,” I say, to which the captain twists my wrist.

I let out a gasp as pain spikes through me, but the captain’s movement was deliberate. There’s no cracking of bone.

It’s when I choke back a sob that he shoves me to the ground.

It’s so sudden, I hardly have time to register what’s happened until my back hits a basket of folded blankets. They break my fall, but they also close in over me, making it difficult to regain my balance as I struggle with the moving ship to get upright.

The captain strides toward me, green eyes vibrant and flaring, his face one of nightmares. “Get up,” he says, the anger in his expression absent from his voice.

“You’re the one who pushed me down,” I cry, my limbs still trembling too much to support me. I struggle to rise, and when I finally succeed, the captain shoves me down again.

I let out a whimper as my back hits the floorboards this time. The captain towers over me, stalking me in circles.

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