Page 19 of The Crown's Awakening
He steps toward me. I move back too quickly, my hand catching the edge of the bed to keep myself upright. The floor does not respond the way I expect, the motion of the ship out of sync withmy body. It takes more effort than it should to hold my balance. “Don’t touch me.”
“I’m not asking you again.”
“I said no.”
He reaches for me anyway. "There is no time for this, Asharin."
I twist away, but I am too slow. His hand closes around my arm, firm enough that I feel it immediately, and I pull against him, forcing my weight back even as the room drags sideways beneath me.
“Let go of me.” My voice is louder now, carrying across the space between us. “Teorin, let go of me.”
“No.”
I push at him with both hands, my palms striking his chest, trying to force space between us, but there is nothing behind it. He shifts his hold without effort, one arm coming behind my back, the other beneath my knees, lifting me before I can brace.
“No—put me down.” I kick against him, my heel striking his leg, my hands pushing at his shoulders, trying to break free. “Put me down. Do you hear me?”
“We don’t have time for this," he repeats.
“You don’t get to decide that.” The words come faster now, pulled tight with something I cannot hold back. “You don’t get to decide anything for me.”
“I already have.”
The door opens and cold air cuts through the room, sharp with salt. The ship moves differently beneath us, the rhythm off in a way I feel immediately.
We are already moving.
I keep fighting him, twisting in his arms, pushing, trying to disrupt his balance, but he holds me easily, his pace unchanged as he carries me through the corridor. A few people glance up, drawn by the sound of my voice, then look away again as though they have already decided not to involve themselves.
When we reach the deck, the wind hits hard enough to steal what little breath I have left. The sea has turned rough, waves striking the hull with a force that runs through me where he holds me.
Another ship moves alongside.
It rises higher than Eravic’s, darker, the wood nearly black beneath the lantern light. The glow catches along the wet boards and the ropes, leaving everything slick and shadowed. Men stand along the rail, watching.
“No.” The word tears out of me. “No, I’m not getting on that ship.”
He steps onto the plank.
“Teorin, don’t—” I twist again, harder now, even as my strength fails to follow through. “Put me down. Put me down.” I am no longer trying to hide the panic in my voice.
“No.” His voice remains unchanged.
On the other side, a man stands waiting. I recognize him after a moment, not from any direct conversation but from seeing himstanding on the docks with Eravic and Junis. He clearly worked for House Vaelor. Perhaps he would help.
“Torphasyn.” My voice comes uneven. “You’re sailing this ship?”
“Yes." His voice is cold, irritated. His expression makes it clear he finds both me and the scene I’m making a nuisance.
“I’m not getting on it.” I look at him, forcing the words out with what remains of my strength. “I’m not going on this ship.”
He does not answer. He looks at Teorin instead. “Vaelor said she must be kept safe,” he says. “Do what you think is necessary.”
The word hits harder than anything else.
Necessary.
I know what that means.
