Page 91 of Wrath of the Dragons
“Have you ever thought that perhaps I’m busy?”
“In the middle of the ocean?” he kicks off the wood, his heavy steps eating the distance between us. “You’ve read three books and take two out of three meals in the sky, and you’re a terrible actress because yougiggleinto your pillow while you pretend to be asleep.”
“I am a phenomenal actress.” I flick my curls over my shoulder and cock a hip. “And it’s frowned upon to stalk people.”
He crosses his arms. “You’re my wife.”
“Congratulations, that was almost an intelligent observation.” He tucks his tongue into the side of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Is there something in particular you’ve sought me out for or were you just craving the pleasure of my presence?”
“More like the punishment.”
I shove him in his chest, which vibrates with his chuckle, and turn in the direction of the dining cabin. His eyes rest heavily on my back with every step, and I know each second ticking by is bringing us closer to an inevitable conversation.
After a tense dinner, and an even tenser night, I spring out of bed. Though I know my dragons want me to ride them, I stay on the ship and perch on a barrel while I sip chilled lemonade and stubbornly stare at Cayden, who isn’t shy about meeting my eyes across the deck. It’s another sweltering day beneath the sun, and Finnian is hiding in the shade of the sails as he rubs lotion on his reddening skin.
“I’m never going to survive this kingdom,” he grumbles.
“You’ll be fine.” I smirk as I sharpen another knife. “If you find someone attracted to strawberries you’ll have an ardent admirer.”
He sticks his tongue out at me in response, and I giggle while popping another raspberry into my mouth. Cayden and Ryder discardtheir shirts and lift their fists as several soldiers cheer them on. The pair circle each other, and I’d probably be able to hear the taunts they’re firing at each other if I wasn’t so focused on Cayden’s sculpted torso.Good gods.Fruit juice dribbles down my elbow, and I don’t even realize I’ve squeezed the raspberry I’m holding until Cayden winks at me, breaking my trance.
Saskia scoffs from where she cools herself with a red satin fan that matches her off-the-shoulder two-piece set. It’s in a similar style to mine, sheer flowy fabric cuffing around our ankles and wrists, but mine is lavender and encrusted with pearls instead of jewels and shows off more of my stomach. “You’d think they’d use their free time to behave as something other than brutes.”
“I think you set your expectations too high.”
“My turn!” Finnian shouts, shooting up from the shade and crossing the deck as the soldiers cheer when Cayden pins Ryder face down on the wood.
“Get him, Finny!” Finnian is the clear underdog of the fight, but I increase my cheering the more Cayden stares at me. There’s a challenge in his eyes, and even Saskia joins me. Finnian strips himself of his shirt and I try not to cringe while looking at his sunburned skin. How did he manage to get burnedunderhis clothes? Cayden easily dodges Finnian’s punch and twists his arm behind his back before locking an arm around his throat. “Oh, Finny.”
“Elowen, your husband is trying to kill me!” Finnian shouts, clawing at Cayden’s arm despite him not utilizing even half his strength. Finnian just survives on dramatics.
Cayden rolls his eyes. “You asked to spar with me.”
“Spar doesn’t mean strangle.”
“You annoyed me.”
“That’s surprisingly easy,” Finnian huffs as Cayden releases him and takes a tankard of chilled ale from a chuckling Ryder.
I hop off the barrel and stride toward the sparring circle, stepping past the soldiers and standing toe to toe with Cayden. His glistening chest rises and falls, nearly pressing into mine with each breath. Heseems lighter than he has the past few days, but the darkness lurking beneath the surface—which wasn’t there before the ritual—is still present. I wonder if a foreign power thrums in his veins, building and choking him from the inside since he wasn’t able to expel it. If he’s also blessed by the gods, I wonder in what ways it’ll manifest.
“You want to spar with me?” he asks.
Up close, it’s even harder to ignore the pull I feel toward him. He’s all hard lines and dark ink, and the memory of him pressed against me…pushing into me…my mouth goes dry. What I truly want is to guide him back to our cabin and lock the door.
“I do.” He licks his lips, calling for two dulled practice swords, and I wrap my fingers around the hilt, testing the weight of it as I slowly circle him. “But I want to make it more interesting.”
“A bet?”
I shrug, looking up at him beneath my lashes, the picture of innocence he knows I’ll never be. “That’s your area of expertise, is it not?”
I don’t mention the tavern, given we’re surrounded by people hanging on to our every word, but Cayden catches my meaning and looks even more intrigued. “What do you want?”
“A favor at a later date.”
“Fine.” He chuckles, stepping closer to me so only I’m able to hear his prize. “If I win, I want you to wear another one of those lacy sets for me.”
“Deal,” I whisper, my body heating from his raspy tone. “The winner is whoever disarms the other first.”
