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Anya guides me to the solitary one, nodding at the gilded handle. I enter the room, quickly shutting the rickety door when I spot Soren inside, wiping off the smudge around his eyes.

The sight of him in front of me eases the fear that had been gnawing at my insides. The space is small, but after seeing where the rest sleep, this is a luxury to have such privacy. The room has two hammocks, a small table nailed into the floor with a large, corked container, and an empty bowl. The way Soren uses it suggests we pour water in, gingerly, to avoid spilling out.

“Are there no beds?”

He laughs, the towel scraping against his stubble. “Better not ask that among the crew, or they’ll never let you live that down.” He glances my way, his eyes tired, his lashes slightly darkened from the paint, or ink, he used. “There’s hardly a bed on any ship. They get wet and rot, and this will help stave off seasickness.”

I peek out the small window we’re afforded, seeing nothing but the empty ocean. There’s something about being alone down here that makes it feel like we officially escaped. “I can’t believe we really made it out of there.” I glance at his back, the man’s powerful body moving to remove his weapons and armor. “Are you alright?” I ask, thinking maybe he’s injured and said nothing.

He looks over at me with that pale gaze, smirking. “I’m fine, love. Taking off this constricting shit. We’ll be at sea for at least two weeks, and Tempest has other clothes to wear that are better for the sea. Mold will grow, believe it or not. Damages the leather.”

If it weren’t for the darkness hanging over me, I almost might laugh at how interesting that is.

He grins slightly. “You think it’s funny?”

“No,” I quip, straightening my back, moving to a hammock to inspect it. “I just always thought pirates were fascinating as a kid, but I was never allowed near them. Never even realized they might be dressed differently because of the ocean.”

He pauses for a moment, like something crosses his mind that he might share, but tucks it back away. “There are bandanas, too. Keeps the salt off your hair.”

It’s so hard to hide the excitement of wearing a bandana on a pirate ship, let alone theSea Wolf.

“It’s nice to feel you happy about something for once,” he loosely comments. “Take off your clothes. Dry them out and put these on.”

I rock my hip to the side. "What if we’re ambushed? Those clothes don’t look as protective.”

“No onechallenges the Sea Wolf in open water.”

“Blackwell has a god on his ship.”

Soren unbuckles his pants, still staring me down, those forearms working in distracting ways. He walks near me in the confined space, speaking lowly, “There are rumors that Tempest is entwined with the ocean god herself. Misery can’t touch her out here.” He leans in slightly. “Don’t repeat that. Don’t know what her crew knows, or what’s just a rumor.”

I’m a lost cause, because even the man simply undressing is an event of temptation. Everything he does is done withthis undertone of cocky confidence that I find so annoyingly provocative.

It’s not even thoughts of Misery that repress what I feel, but more so, I can’t stand to think I’m wasting time on a ship when I could be training. I feel like a treasured jewel everyone keeps delicately passing around, and not a person whose heart festers with revenge. Or a person who has time to engage in anything romantic with another.

Especially after our escape just now.

Soren slides his belt out in a fluid motion that it completely pulls me out of a trance… maybe just anhourwith him. He places it on a hook on the wall and then comes over to touch my hair. It’s so damn calming that I have this overwhelming need to bury my face into him and pretend like none of this has happened. Staring at his muscled chest donning the Zenith tattoo brings me right back to all the times we spent alone in rooms such as these.

“Until we’re back on land, enjoy the safety of being on the Sea Wolf. There’s nothing safer on the ocean. We’re only docking because we can’t hide on the waters forever. At least Tempest needs to resupply for that, if it comes down to it.”

I want to be vulnerable with someone, and desire Kathleen without thought, from habit. He grips my hair and pulls my head to the side. “You can be vulnerable withme.”

I can’t help but smile, my bones melting at how uncouth he can be, especially when he wants a part of me.

“I feel like this is why I’ve been running for my whole life, and I also can’t escape it. Whilealsofeeling like I just want to breathe every breath with the intention to kill Misery.”

He seems to think on that, a dark approval lacing in his gaze. “I’ve lived with that very revenge for years, Jane. I know what it means. You can join in on the mock combat when it happens ondeck, and we can plot whatever, too. It doesn’t have to be wasted time.”

I stare into his gaze that darkens, knitted brows crowning them, and I give him a questioning expression. “Does it bother you to let that go? That revenge?”

Soren’s gaze roams my face before pulling back to sit on his hammock, his entire abdomen flexing as he sits. “No. I trust you’ll find her, and that’s the important part. If anything, the world is playing out in ways that make sense now.

“I tried to befriend Matthias, actually. Slowly, because of his connection across the Black Sea, where I thought my sister was. Until my instinct screamed to stay away from him. Now I know why.” He chuckles, and I start to remove the top layers of my clothes while he watches. “Can’t believe you’re a Zenith slayer. Didn’t realize the danger I was in back in the Black House.”

My attempt to stifle a laugh is a complete failure. “I kept telling you, you were lucky I was bound.”

A crooked grin spreads across his face before he looks down to laugh more, then flits that icy gaze right back up at me, tilting his head slightly. “Would you kill a Zenith for me?” he asks, although it’s more like a fun question than something serious, like he’s curious what I’d say.