Page 18 of Depths
I turned back to the rebel, who’d tilted his head and was staring at me with something akin to curiosity.
“My apologies … you haven’t given me your name.”
“Watkins.” The shark shifter set his elbows deliberately on the table, fisting one hand and cupping that fist with the other as he studied me steadily.
There was something the tiniest bit unnerving about his gaze, perhaps because he was a shark shifter. My stomach gave a nervous little flop, and for a moment, I felt like prey. I was relieved when someone shoved some parchment and a quill and ink at me, all magicked so they wouldn’t be ruined by the water.
I opened the ink and dipped the quill. Then I tried to hand it to him. “Why don’t you go ahead and list your demands …”
“Why? So you can write them down and laugh over them?” His voice grew so feral it was practically a growl. His eyes dipped to my quill, then lower before his nostrils flared and he gazed back up at me, twice as angry as before.
“So I can discuss them with my advisers.” I tried to keep my tone even. Was he furious with himself for gazing at me? Was he gazing at me?
“You won’t do that,” he scoffed.
“Of course I will.”Why would he doubt me?He didn’t even know me.
“Royalty don’t give a shite about—”
“Here I am, saying I give a shite, and you’re the one refusing to take advantage of this opportunity.” I gestured at the crowd, making a wide, sweeping arc with my arm. “You obviously were chosen out of your little group to approach me. How do you think they’re going to feel when they know you wasted the opportunity?”
For some odd reason, a smug expression came over Watkins’ face. His eyes took on a gleam that hadn’t been there previously.
“What?” I snapped, a bit irritated and too tired to hide it at this point of the night.
Watkins’ grin only grew, and it was the kind of grin that sliced one open, cut through flesh and made the heart pump frantically. It was the kind of grin I felt quite certain he gave a fish right before he caught it. “Oh, I wasn’t the only one who approached you tonight.”
I blamed exhaustion for the fact that it took me a second to process what he said, but once I realized, the implications were as loud as a gong in my head. I’d invited those protesters as a show of good faith, but clearly, they had absolutely no boundaries. They’d gone about distracting Sahar and impersonating actual competitors! Why? Just to humiliate me? That seemed likely, since they clearly didn’t take my offer to discuss things seriously.
I set down the quill and carefully closed the ink bottle so as not to disclose my rage. But inside, I was smoldering.
I didn’t think it was possible, but Watkins’ smile spread even wider, like he knew what was going on inside my head.
Internally, I dissected every interaction of my evening. “Third nipple, that was one of yours.” I didn’t even phrase it as a question.
I saw surprise flicker across Watkins’ face. Had he not expected me to discern what he meant so quickly?
“What about the man who groped me in front of his mother? That one yours too?” I fiercely hoped so, because I really never wanted to interact with that idiot again. He’d given me a serious case of disgusted shivers. If he was an actual competitor, I wanted to disqualify him.
Watkins gave the world’s most frustrating, most infuriating shrug. As if this were all some game and not my future they were messing with.
I snapped. Later, I’d blame it on exhaustion, but I was honestly utterly livid in that moment. They’d warped my kind gesture and used it to torture me.
“You know what, I don’t think I’ll be writing that list after all.” I folded my hands demurely on the table, my face stoic. I’d learned from years of playing cards with Declan not to tip my hand too soon.
Watkins’ face twisted in fury. “I knew it—”
“It’s going to take far too many conversations to understand exactly what you want. So…” I turned in my seat. “Sahar, come here for a moment, please!” I called loudly.
She swam quickly,confusion on her features. I don’t think she’d ever heard me yell before. But I kept up my theatrical tone so that it carried throughout the room. Nearby, sea people had already turned to witness the commotion. “There’s been a mistake. Watkins here wants to officially register for the tournament.”
I enjoyed the shock that rippled across his features, dragging under that smug look like it had been caught in an undertow. I stood slowly so that I was above him, breaking one of Sahar’s cardinal negotiation rules. But this wasn’t negotiation. This was punishment.
“I do hope you aren’t the first to lose.” I put on a sickeningly innocent expression. “I wouldn’t want you to be utterly humiliated.”
Watkins had no words. I’d made a man speechless.
I turned to Sahar. “I trust you can arrange it.”
